We blew up.

May Hem, here.

So after the success of the Big Bomb (I will share just a few of the links below to some of the wildly generous coverage we received after our Central Parkway operation in September - and thanks to many friends for posting photos to blogs and Facebook - a few above), we were all a bit startled by our new-found fame. Some of us went underground, some of us took a break, and some of us couldn't stop stitching.

I chose the second strategy and decided to head south for a little break on the beach with a male companion whom I will call "George Clooney" so as A: not to reveal his real identity, B: to describe his crazy good looks, C: because it makes me happy to be able to Google May Hem and George Clooney and find a link, albeit my own, that connects us together, forever, in virtual reality.

So we were lying on the beach in our fancy cabana and "George " was rubbing my tired hands because I had complained just the tiniest little bit about how all my intricate stitch work and blogging gave me carpal tunnel issues and therefore it was hard for me to even lift my drink! As you can imagine, this was distressing news all around.

So while "George" massaged, I recounted the Big Bomb success and the wild paparazzi filled aftermath and you know what he said?

"You blew up, baby."

I was all like "You mean like Snooki? Or Kim? Or Bethenny?"

And he was all like "No better than that."

And I was all like "Ha ha. Like who then?"

And he was all like "Dude, you are like way more  Debbie Harry or Gaga. You are using sex appeal ironically, right? You are using your sexed up identity and cute, craftsy materials sort of subversively, right? What's next? Reality show? World domination? Museum show? It's cool that all of those things are in the domain you've created. You own it, babe."

And I was all like "Where's the cabana boy?"

I excused myself and went to find cell service under a palm tree to call Pinky Shears to report on what "George" had said.  I was in a panic. Was I ironic? Was that a good thing? Why was "George Clooney" acting so smart?

Pinky laughed. "May, we are a bunch of women who know a good thing when we see it. We want to have fun. We are smoking hot. We work hard. We are wildly talented. We like to do things in the community that make you look twice and think about what else is possible. If that is ironic and subversive, then that's okay by me. Tell him we are working on a plan and that a BombShell doesn't reveal future plans to anyone, even if it is George Clooney."

So I did. And 'George Clooney' seemed to be fine with that, especially because we, well, you know. We did some subversive and ironic things.

What's next for the BombShells? We can't tell you EXACTLY what we are doing, but know that we are going to have a very busy end of the year and 2012 is going to be off the hook.

If you want to be in the know every single BombShell second, "Like" the BombShells of Cincinnati on Facebook ... that will keep you super up-to-date. Like on our amazing bombing at the Cincinnati Art Museum this week.

And now, here are just a few links to our friends in the media, including some amazing bloggers we love.

VisuaLingual Blog

Soapbox Cincinnati

Bright Earth Studio

Metro Bus photos

Our Big Bomb sponsor revealed! ArtWorks and the BombShells.

We love Channel 9 News.

5chw4r7z Blog

My Knitche blog.

AND MORE! See all on our Facebook Page.

You don't get a boss like Pinky Shears every ol' day.

In the next couple of days, I will be adding loads of photos and links to mucho news coverage and more of my snaps of the BIG BOMB. But before I sign off for the night, on behalf of all the BombShells, a huge thanks to Pinky Shears - the best BombShell ever.

The Big B is Like the Big O only BETTER!

May Hem here. And your faithful loyal correspondent is actually a little misty eyed sitting here in my media perch reporting on the BombShells at work on the BIGGEST YARN BOMBING IN THE HISTORY OF YARN BOMBING. (We believe this to be entirely true at this very second.)

Get off the couch and come on down to Central Parkway and put on a platinum wig and join the BombShells as they cover the entire median from Broadway to Central. Not to mention the Metro Bus and a rad bike and a pig.

More soon. I'm going to let these early photos of a grand night of yarn insurrection in Cincinnati, Ohio speak for themselves.

Go BombShells! Go Pinky Shears!

And thanks to ArtWorks and our other supporters (full listing to come) for helping make this a grand summer of knitting, crocheting, connecting and loving up our city and each other the BombShell way.

Give me an "A", give me an "R", give me a "T" ...

... give me an ... oops. Nope. That's all you get for now.

You can see we are up to something and this time it is big. Really big. The biggest of the big. Like world-record yarn bombing big.

And it's coming up this week. Wednesday to be precise. You may want to mark your calendar for a very special evening downtown with a bunch of babe-a-licious beauties known as the BombShells. We can't tell you any more than that right now but know we are about to reveal the fruits of our labor in a mega-uber-super-grandiose-blow your mind-public art sort of way.

What's it spell?

You'll see. Wednesday. Stay tuned for details. "Like" us on Facebook for up-to-the-minute info on our status. (MayHem's status is single, btw).

Take me out to the ball game.

Ever since I did the "tango" with a certain White Sox player I have been drawn to the curious sport of baseball.

So when the BombShells mentioned a chance to visit the Cincinnati Reds, I checked out the roster, noticed a certain Joey Votto and said, "Hell yes!"

Here we are doing the Seventh Inning Stretch and warming up a few of the players with our own sweet BombShell moves.

Curious how it worked out for a certain BombShell and a certain ball player?

Well did you see the fireworks after the game?  

That's how it worked out: MayHem style.

Operation Haring Daring

Well la dee dah.

Not only were we invited to a CAC gala, we got to warm up the building with more than our smokin' hot good looks.

On Saturday night, we BombShells showed off a month's worth of work by a baker's dozen of our gals. And 4400 yards of yarn later, we got to adorn Zaha Hadid's smokin' hot building during the Contemporary Arts Center's annual gala.

We hope Keith Haring would be proud of us. Cuz we were sure honored to be a part of such an esteemed art institution's party plans and silent auction. And that is no joke.

Thanks to honorary BombShell Jaime Thompson, CAC's Curator of Education and one of our BombShell idols, Director Raphaela Platow for opening the door for us. 

Now excuse us while we put away our high heels and party dresses and we get back to the thousands of yards of yarn that it's going to take for us to really knock your socks off this fall.

NOTE: All photos are courtesy of our own Orson Welles.

One Night, One Craft, Ten BombShells

What do you get when you cross One Night, One Craft and Ten BombShells?

YOU GET A NEARLY SOLD OUT MONDAY NIGHT EVENT AT THE CONTEMPORARY ARTS CENTER, THAT'S WHAT!

Cincinnati BombShells will be on site at the CAC from 6 to 8 pm at the final One Night/One Craft event showing you how to be crazy sexy and cool while making pom poms and cozies and felt doo-dads.

The BombShells may be a little worn out from their super top secret weekend operation (which by Monday night will be artfully evident to all!) but we can assure you that you will not see one platinum lock out of place nor one tired gam at rest.

No, no. We will be there to teach you our BombShell ways.

Hurry hurry and make your reservation now. $5 gets you a pom pom or two but bring a few extra bucks for a cocktail. We will not mind if you buy us one. Or two. Hint hint.

Monday, August 29th
6-8 pm
Contemporary Arts Center 6th floor, UnMuseum.
RSVP to tours@contemporaryartscenter.org

Give me a B! Give me an O! Give me an M! Give me another B!

Etc.

What's it spell?

I said WHAT DOES IT SPELL?

Yes, dolls. That spells BOMBSHELL.

And here is a sneak peak at some of the things you might see if there was such thing as a SECRET BombShell meeting to prepare for a SECRET BombShell operation in a SECRET location for a SECRET coming-soon event.

 

Can you do the conga?

Do you love art?

Can you ride a bull in stilettos and not mess up your hair?

Can you work in secret, tirelessly, avoiding sleep and social engagements because you care about fiber art and making the world cuter, one stitch at a time? Can you???

Oh, just you wait. We are coming soon to all your favorite locations.

And if you like us, be nice to us and maybe, just maybe, you can grow up to be a BombShell too.

Toot toot hey beep beep. Toot toot hey beep beep.

I'm going to say it straight up. This is all a bit of smoke and mirrors and sleight of hand while we work on some massively exciting BombShell bombs. You think we've been out just martini-ing it up this hot ol' summer? No way, doll. We've been up to no-good/for-the-greater-good projects.

Just you wait.

Until then, a little summer song for you.

Friday night and the strip is hot
sun's gone down and they're about to trot 

spirit's high and they look hot 

do you wanna get down 

now don't you ask yourself, who they are? 

like everybody else, they wanna be a star.

Toot toot hey beep beep. Toot toot hey beep beep.

Can you hear it?

So one of our BombShells goes by Toots. And while she claims to be a down-to-earth, mudcloth, hoarder-o-fiber, down and dirty sort of gal, I'm not so sure.

I took some double-top-secret snaps of her double-top-secret work for our next double-top-secret bombing and, well, check it out. It seems pretty black and white to me that Toots has a double life. She says "earth shoes" and we see stilettos. She says "hand-me-downs" and we see vintage sexy.

All I'm really sayin' is that what you think you know about us, think again. And look at the quiet woman next to you at the coffee shop. Think of your mother or your sister or your daughter. Do you know for SURE that they aren't a secret BombShell?

It's not all black and white.

Until the next BombShell delight ....

I say Wip it. Wip it good.

Oh no, darlings. We are not dormant. We are getting ready in a stealthy stitch-by-stitch manner for some wild business of the fiber persuasion.

But we don't want you to forget us so I may be profiling a few BombShells, on occasion, when not with my man on Fire Island (or the other one in Gatlinburg). It is August, after all. And no civilized BombShell actually WORKS in August. We travel. We knit. We cocktail. Hurray!

So, without further ado, meet Wip, Pinky's right hand BombShell.

As you can see, she is a trickster. Her demure manner, her sweet dresses, her bows and baubles, they are smoke and mirrors I tell you. Smoke and mirrors.

Because Wip is the one who whips up little rat babies to place around town. They are pretty cute but don't be fooled. Cuz a rat is a rat is a rat. And Wip knows RATS. As do all BombShells. In fact, that was going to be a part of the manifesto (history of hanging out with scoundrels and/or dancing on bars and/or attendance at Burning Man) but we nixed all that for our all-fiber creed.

So that's our Wip. Sweet. Like burnt sugar. Like spiked juice. Like cotton candy in the carnival house of mirrors. Especially fond of Arnold's Bar and Grill. Especially keen on their Vodka Lemonade. Beware, beware, beware. If you find yourself falling for her southern charm, if you find her hand on your knee while you are sitting at Arnold's bar, know that she is plotting her next Rat Bomb.

There. You have been warned.

So that's all for today. I got the ocean singing me a song, the sun on my back, a man with a handful of oil standing beside me, and a margarita to drink.