Red, white and blues

I don't know about you, but I'm finding all this British jolliness a bit wearying. Red, white and blue is a cheery trio of colours and I've as fond memories of the 1977 Silver Jubilee as anyone else. We had a lovely street party, the sun shone and I remember being made very welcome by the ladies who were pleased to have a young volunteer for buttering sandwiches before we all tucked in to a vast picnic.

But 1977 was a full 35 years ago and there ought to be some more relevant cultural signifiers than Union Jacks being enthusiastically waved and its familiar motif being spattered across anything able to take a print. The good old red, white and blue is having a dreadful effect on fashion, as a stroll down the aisles of most high street retailers proves. Bed sheets with elongated Union Jacks, floor length and with enormous armholes at the sides are neither maxi dresses or beach cover ups. They're just dreadful.

Last week I witnessed the daubing of the Union Jack right across both windows of one of the most prominently placed pubs in the Leicester Square/Covent Garden tourist zone. Sure enough, when I walked past the next day, not only was the view from the windows completely obliterated, but a giant fry-up and a call to come on in for some Great British Grub was superimposed over the top. We have a tough enough time convincing sceptical overseas visitors about the excellent cuisine to be found in the UK, without reminders of such unhealthy examples. Ok, I'm being a bit of a snob here, but I do think we're playing up our dear old stereotypes when there's no need.

This year's Jubilee is also responsible for an outbreak of bunting - and here I'm guilty of encouraging it as I thought some simple garter stitch pennants in bright colours would be the ideal project for a knitting workshop I'm helping run as part of our local community arts festival.

There are numerous examples of kitschy flowered fabrics snipped into shape and finished with crimped edges - perfect if you want to put on an afternoon tea and serve it on your lawn or in a summerhouse to ladies of a certain age with pressed curls, faces powdered and defiant red lips. I'm afraid I don't know many ladies like that and I'm just as fed up with the tweeness as I am as the giant flags adorning every surface.

Luckily, bunting doesn't have to be kitsch or monarchist - it simply signifies celebration. So while I'm sticking to bunting for its conveniently small size and speediness to create, I'm also slipping in a few non-traditional motifs of my own. After all, Her Maj is Queen of the Commonwealth, which currently comprises 54 countries. That gives us an awful lot more scope than simply red, white and blue.