Elf Collection | Pristine Condition | Designed by Robert Simpich
Nobody has ever enjoyed a chore this much.
Wisp is sweeping his own doorstep, and the face he's making about it is the face most people save for good news. Eyes squeezed shut into deep crow's feet, cheeks up, mouth wide open in a laugh you can almost hear — the whole head is creased with it. Turn him around and there's a thick sculpted ruff of white curls at the back of his neck, worked as carefully as the front, on a spot that faces the wall.
The broom is not a prop. It's a real besom in miniature: a thick bundle of broomcorn bristles, bound tight with green twine, mounted on a length of split cane still showing its grain and its splits. It's the working shape — the same one people have been tying together for a few hundred years — just made small.
He's dressed for cold work at an early hour. A red knitted cap, ribbed at the brim and rolled up once, with a long soft tail that flops over on itself. A black tunic cut in points at the hem. Red mittens closed around the handle, one high and one low, in the grip you'd actually use. Red leggings, sculpted brown clogs, and a heavy plaid scarf in brown, black and cream — the softest, woolliest scarf in the group — wound twice around his neck and left long down his back.
The knitted cap is worth a second look. Every other elf in this batch wears cut and stitched felt. Wisp's hat is knitted, ribbed, and finished like real hosiery. It's a different craft answer to the same problem, and it gives him a silhouette nobody else has.
His sole still carries the gold foil label: Simpich Elf · Wisp · Handmade — the shop's own name for him, right there on the piece, which is why there's no guesswork about what to call him. There's an impressed mark on the sole as well, running alongside the label.
Cast from the original design, then hand-painted and dressed in hand-sewn clothing in the Simpich doll shop.
Elf Collection | Pristine Condition | Designed by Robert Simpich
Nobody has ever enjoyed a chore this much.
Wisp is sweeping his own doorstep, and the face he's making about it is the face most people save for good news. Eyes squeezed shut into deep crow's feet, cheeks up, mouth wide open in a laugh you can almost hear — the whole head is creased with it. Turn him around and there's a thick sculpted ruff of white curls at the back of his neck, worked as carefully as the front, on a spot that faces the wall.
The broom is not a prop. It's a real besom in miniature: a thick bundle of broomcorn bristles, bound tight with green twine, mounted on a length of split cane still showing its grain and its splits. It's the working shape — the same one people have been tying together for a few hundred years — just made small.
He's dressed for cold work at an early hour. A red knitted cap, ribbed at the brim and rolled up once, with a long soft tail that flops over on itself. A black tunic cut in points at the hem. Red mittens closed around the handle, one high and one low, in the grip you'd actually use. Red leggings, sculpted brown clogs, and a heavy plaid scarf in brown, black and cream — the softest, woolliest scarf in the group — wound twice around his neck and left long down his back.
The knitted cap is worth a second look. Every other elf in this batch wears cut and stitched felt. Wisp's hat is knitted, ribbed, and finished like real hosiery. It's a different craft answer to the same problem, and it gives him a silhouette nobody else has.
His sole still carries the gold foil label: Simpich Elf · Wisp · Handmade — the shop's own name for him, right there on the piece, which is why there's no guesswork about what to call him. There's an impressed mark on the sole as well, running alongside the label.
Cast from the original design, then hand-painted and dressed in hand-sewn clothing in the Simpich doll shop.
