Valentine’s Day Ride About

I made this using my newest sewing room toy, a needle-felting machine. I felted the wool heart to an old quilt remnant, then to a bit of vintage ticking, then to denim. More to come on that new tool.

On this glorious February 14, we spent the day celebrating things and places we love.  We did some antiquing near Fayettevile and in Woodbury, traveled backroads all the way, had lunch at The Blackbird Cafe.

Vignettes with hearts were on display everywhere, whetting my appetite for things I’d like to do next year.  

One antique mall had hearts cut from old quilts just lying around everywhere! And, most vendors there had items 14% off today.
This has neither hearts nor blue in it…but don’t you love these neutrals?

I found a few treasures to inspire me…most of them blue and brown.  No surprise there. Brought home a few of them, you see.

A few ceramic blue pots.
A brown transfer plate filled with sewing treasures…I’m loving those vintage laundry pins!
I found quite a selection of printer’s blocks… I can’t wait to make images on fabric using these.
And in another store, my initials were in a printing drawer!
I made this little heart garland to add to our kitchen heart collection this year…cut bits of a vintage quilt that had been for a swim in the indigo dye pot.

I hope your heart day was wonderful, too.

Old Fabrics and a Cow

We went to Lakewood last weekend and I found a few vintage treasures.

Some delicious homespun fabrics and a cow came home with me.

The definition of homespun fabric is fabric made at home; fibers spun and/or woven at home.  Synonyms include plain, unpolished, unsophisticated, simple, rustic.  Well, those words fit the life I love.

The simplicity of design is part of their appeal, I think.

The wear and the stains in these fabrics speak to me of people who used them in their everyday life.

These homespun fabrics were in Shelby’s collection.  Shelby’s son and daughter-in-law were delighted to sell them to me, seeing that I appreciated these pieces of history as Shelby had.  I didn’t know Shelby, but I like her.

Who else do you know who would delight in finding that the vintage fabric they bought was patched?  I was thrilled to discover this … more stories in the cloth.

And, this worn French tea towel came home with me, too.  Look at those vibrant stripes after washing a gazillion times!

Kristine was not at her booth yet – we were early browsers – but her treasures spoke to me

old clothespins in a BLUE bucket…what’s not to love?

I came home with more than the fabrics I bought, though.  I always find ideas to send my brain spinning…doors, buckets, buttons, even a beekeeper….

I’ve written about visits to Lakewood before: The button lady post is here. Why I love beekeepers is here. And another cow is here.

On the Road Again

Once the Covid vaccines were in our bloodstreams for two weeks, Jim and I headed to an antique mecca.  We went on a weekday, took a picnic lunch, and distanced ourselves from people.  

But we didn’t distance ourselves from the joy of antiquing.  Seeing items like these toys trigger memories and lead to writing forgotten stories for the next generation.  

Seeing color combinations and delicious fabrics always stimulates my quilt design.

Before Covid hit, a favorite old cotton mill filled with antique booths had closed.  We were saddened by that, but delighted to learn that it is now occupied by new owners, filled with upscale decor items and some antiques.  The exterior is spruced up, too, making a visit there a new kind of thrill.

You know I love blue and brown.  You know I love toile.  You know I love nice bows.  Well, who knew I would find them all in one place?

This sweet little train case was waiting for me…a brown case lined in a toile with blue accents, and a beautiful bow.  It had to come home with me.

Now it’s ready to be filled with indigo overdyed fabrics and trims to complement the lining.

Margene’s Tablecloth

Margene was a master seamstress.  She made clothing for herself and her daughters.  She made a shirt for her husband once, but decided they could afford to buy men’s clothing.  So the husband and son wore all store-bought clothes.

Margene made her kitchen curtains, recovered chair cushions, pieced worn out clothing into quilts.  Most of this stitching, like the girls’ dresses, was done on the sewing machine.  It was faster, more efficient for the necessities of life, but Margene needed handwork to keep her busy after the supper dishes were done.

She did a little knitting and crocheting, but her real love was pulling a threaded needle through cloth.  That rhythm soothed her soul.  Embroidery met this need.  She could buy a transfer kit with a design on it, iron that ink onto her own fabric, and stitch away.  Or she could even buy a design already stamped on table linens or dish towels and get right to business.  The local five-and-dime sold cotton embroidery floss by the bushel, and even had some of the designs she liked.

This tablecloth was one Margene started, but never finished.  She was in the midst of it when she got the news that her son was killed in a car accident.  She tried, but could never bring herself to thread the needle for that project again.  After a long while, she did do other embroidery projects, but every time she picked this one up, her hands trembled, and her eyes filled with tears.  If she couldn’t see the design, how could she stitch it?

All the above is imaginative.  I don’t know anything about this project except I bought the unfinished tablecloth after looking at it in a favorite antique mall booth for months, maybe years.  At $17, it’s beyond what I normally spend on linens to cut apart and reuse, but the soft colors, the nice stitching, the possibilities, kept beckoning to me.

Here is the tag the vendor included with the piece.  Her linens are clean and pressed, and packaged to stay that way while on display.  I could see through the cellophane that there were traces of the stamped design that had not yet been stitched.  I could read between the lines of the tag that the vendor thought someone would buy the piece and finish the embroidery. 

I could do that.  I would enjoy doing that.  I might actually do that.  But it’s likely that I will include it in a quilt project with the design left as “Margene” stopped.  An open-ended story – so many possibilities.

The portrait is a discarded photo I found in a bin at another store.  I thought this lady had a story or two to tell.  Turns out, she had a tablecloth.

Since I’m sharing this again in honor of International Women’s Day, if you are a new reader, you might want to read about some of the real women who’ve influenced me:

Spinster Sisters is the story of two of my ancestors whose stories impacted my life from the day of my birth.

Quilting Sisters introduces you to two women who still influence me today. A site search for “Joyce” or “Hilda” will yield more stories of these women.

Come On In

An old favorite haunt of ours has reopened this summer.  A warehouse in town where a construction firm once sold architectural relics is now new and improved.  A new generation of owners has made these treasures available again.  It’s even better than before.

What we once visited as Second Chance is now 7th Street Salvage.  Oh, never fear, there are still ample choices awaiting a second chance!


Catherine has an eye for detail and has glorious displays everywhere.  In addition to the warehouse holding years of accumulated doors and windows and stair railings, there are delightful vignettes of small treasures. Catherine has searched out more vintage delights and combined books and chairs and jars and hinges in the most unique ways. Her husband Brent is her partner in the endeavor.

The organization of bits and pieces is amazing.  Even the most OCD of us would love the cataloging of salvage pieces here.


I appreciate the old and dusty, and sometimes rusty, elements that are abundant in these places.  In some places we visit, a mad jumble encourages me to walk away.  That’s not a problem here.  Everything is grouped and categorized with clear price lists displayed.  The simple quantity of things like doorknobs and hinges and backplates and keys is astounding, but the organization is amazing.  Eat your heart out, Container Store.

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Look – tiles organized by quilt block usage: Half-square triangles and trapezoids ready to go!

And, who knew how educational such shopping could be?  Did you know chickens needed laxatives?  

This display of doorplates had me spellbound.  I bought a couple and included one in a fabric collage about home.  And I learned a new word: escutcheon.

This amazing place is 7th Street Salvage in Macon.  Their schedule of open weekends is on facebook (https://www.facebook.com/7th-Street-Salvage-1903699043183111/).  The architecture of Macon is glorious.  To keep the elements of its historical beauty available to include in newer homes is a public service.

Here is the piece I am making using one of the doorplates I bought.  I used vintage linens and a house key from our ancestral past atop an overdyed quilt remnant to showcase the escutcheon.  It’s all ready to mount on a 16’ x 20” canvas here.

 

 

 

 

 

It looked bare.  So I’m auditioning edges.  What do you think?

Update: Here is a later post about the wall hanging once it was finished: I changed the name to Safe Haven.

As Is

I love to find a vintage textile marked “as Is.”  To me it means the price is discounted.  There may be hole in it – giving me an excuse to cut it up and reuse it, or to patch the hole with appliqué. There may be stains on it, meaning i am free to dip the piece in the indigo dye bath, making it beautiful and blue.

Elegantly presented and pristine linens delight me.  I sometime buy them to use just as they are and I do appreciate the dealer’s work in laundering them and packaging them so nicely.  But there is a special thrill in digging through a basket of miscellaneous bits of cloth and finding the treasure that is 100% linen.  Or a towel made from huck cotton. 

Of course, the value is not only in the eye of the beholder.  Most dealers know that even a worn faded sliver of barkcloth will sell for a pretty penny.  But occasionally I find a piece that was just recognized as old and worn.  I don’t squeal with delight until after I’ve paid my pittance for it.  Oh, I do love a find like that.

A worn cotton petticoat that has tucks and lace holds all kinds of potential to become part of a rescued remnant.

Here is a worn dresser scarf with a hole and a stain and a tear in the trim – all signs of use and deposits in some girl’s bank of memories.  There were other pieces in the set; some with more wear, some with less. 

One of the bluebirds flew from a tattered piece and became this heart. 

This heart was made from the intact embroidery from a tattered pillow cover.

And another came from some very very worn curtains.  This corner was bright and colorful.  I love how the old fabrics keep their brilliance!

See why I love “as is”?  I love giving those surviving elements a new home.  Some woman loved these fabrics, either because she stitched the embroidery herself or maybe she selected a color combination to brighten her kitchen.  Now her work survives to brighten someone’s day again.

 

A Sewist Died


While touring a favorite antique mall of ours, I saw a booth with a new basket of sewing goodies.  Patterns, thread, buttons, were all gathered together for my plunder.  There were handmade wooden buttons and needlebooks distributed as advertising media, too.

This booth’s owner must have gone to an estate sale where the remains of a sewing stash were discarded.  The old wooden spools with their richly colored threads are still beautiful and the vendor must have enjoyed corralling them artfully in jars and vases.  As I studied the bits of an unknown woman’s history, I thought of the line I’ve recently seen, “our children don’t want our stuff.”  That headline advises us to clean out, get rid of that stuff (the jars and vases included), so our children won’t have to.

Now, I don’t want my children to have a burden to clean out my stuff, but I don’t want to get rid of it now!  I’m loving my stuff, just as Ester, or Mildred, or whatever this woman’s name was, loved hers.  She bought those patterns and planned clothes for her and her children and grandchildren.  She selected the threads and buttons to make those dreams a reality.  And the leftover pieces are now there for me and others to cherish, repurpose, or just see and remember her pleasure.

I still have bits of my mother’s and my mother-in-law’s sewing treasures.  I use some of them every day.  Others, I just enjoy their presence as I sew.  And, though I didn’t buy all of Mildred’s stuff today, someone will.  And, Mildred’s selections will become part of another stitched work of love.

Often when I buy these fabric treasures, the clerk at the counter will ask what I’m going to do with them.  It seems everyone loves them but, “no one knows what to do with them.”  When I explain about my art, sometimes showing them a photo, I get mixed reactions.  Some say, “oh, no, you’re going to cut it up?!!”  Others say, “That’s good.  It will continue to live on.”  That’s my hope.

Note:  I know “sewist” looks awkward in print.  The first image that comes to mind when you read “sewer” is not of a person pulling needle and thread through fabric, now is it?  Right.  So, I embrace the word sewist.

Lakewood Treasures

It started outside…I was inspired from the get-go by someone else’s embroidery and button designs in white frames on canvas.  Napkin rings were made from silver-plate forks bent into an oval shape.  There’s an idea!

And, color!  The display of Fiestaware shown above is an eyecather by anyone’s definition.  I don’t collect this dinnerware, but I certainly admire the pure saturated colors.  This palette could be mimicked with solid Kona cottons in any modern quilt project.

This was the same day at Lakewood that I met Kristine, the Button Lady I wrote about recently.  I promised to share more of the treasures and stories from that adventure.

So… I was gathering inspiration before I even got in the building.  And, I bought things outside, too.

My first purchase was a couple of vintage cross-stitched pieces and a small black embroidered pillow from a vendor named Kathleen.  As I gave her my $15, she said, “Thank you.  You just bought two bags of feed for my horses.”  She further explained.  “I have retired race horses at my home in TN.  My husband said, ‘If you want to keep them, you have to find a way to support them.’  So doing these markets is how I keep my horses.”

Inside, I found a lovely old tablecloth with lots of blue cross-stitch.  The proprietor wasn’t there, so I hid it inside a cabinet so no one else would buy it before I got back.  “It is damaged,” she said, when I returned to retrieve it and make my purchase.  Yes, it’s damaged.  I still love it.

Then in the ribbon emporium, I found sari silk, hand-dyed french silk ribbons in all widths, sparkly threads, glorious new printed ribbons with feathers and swallows, and some irresistible rayon.

Other booths inspired me with ladders laden with vintage cotton tablecloths, lots of blue and white displays of china, blue and white linens,   If there was a color combination for the day, it was blue-and-white.  That could be true of any day for me, because I gravitate toward that pairing whenever I see it.  But there really was an abundance in sight this day.

I photographed Laurie’s booth filled with baby delights.  Soft colors and fabrics in blankets, toys, and clothing for tender skin of babes and toddlers.  As we chatted, I told this entrepreneur about the imaginary granddaughter that I conjure up when I want to sew with girly-girl colors. I learned that Laurie doesn’t have grandchildren yet, but she has a “Grandma’s hope chest.”  “Maybe that’s what I should call my booth,” she exclaimed!

I visited with Ginnie and bought napkins and towels to use in the kitchen (or use in sewing projects). I bought a runner made from salvageable bits of an old indigo and white quilt and a length of blue lace with bunnies in the design.  She had lots of tatting and trims, as well.   Ginnie doesn’t have granddaughters, either.  She has sons and grandsons (and three daughters-in-law that she loves).  She feeds her love of feminine delights by buying and selling linens, old quilts, and trims.

Believe it or not, there are things I see and like but don’t buy. I passed on a $14 barkcloth bag – colors not in may comfort zone.  Later I bought this piece of barkcloth ample to make several bags.  A bargain at $15 and in colors I like to use!

There was a lovely linen tablecloth with purple morning glories.  If only they had been blue!

I wasn’t the only one having fun looking and visiting with old and new friends – I took Missy’s photo in front of the Minnie Pearl booth!  That’s what she called it, anyway.  I think the expression on her face tells the story of what fun is to be had junking with the experts!

The conversations I have on days like this with strangers who are friends are unique.  Some of these vendors are people I will see time after time, others whose paths won’t cross mine again.  But for a few moments, we shared bits of our stories with each other. We share a love of things with a history behind them.  And we relish the display of simply beautiful objects dancing with each other.  I will remember these bits of conversation after we go our separate ways.  Their ideas and wares will impact my thinking, my fiber art, and my own story as life goes on.  I guess a part of me may go with them, too.

 

The Button Lady

On a recent trip to Lakewood 400 Antique Market, I met Kristine.  Kristine has buttons.  She collects buttons, she plays with buttons, she sells buttons.

Kristine knows buttons.  I spent $24 at her booth, but the knowledge I gained is worth much more than that.

 

 

 

I’ve seen collections of buttons before, but Kristine ‘s display tops the list.

Kristine had bone buttons, china buttons, wooden buttons, bakelite buttons, glass buttons, beaded buttons.  There were buttons on cards, buttons in jars, even buttons made into decorative floral arrangements.

In the past, Kristine sold at the Brimfield market.  When other dealers found out that she loved and sold buttons, they would sell her their button finds. The years have grown her collection, and her knowledge base.  Kristine encouraged my questions.  When I asked about horn buttons, she showed me what to look for, talked about romper buttons and the use of those buttons by Civil War re-enactors.

There were other sewing accoutrements, too.  Belt buckles, rickrack, snaps and hooks and eyes.  Fascinating, intriguing, mind-boggling; all words that fall short of describing the sense of enchantment with such a simple notion as a button.

I frequently include buttons in my quilts, so I must regularly add to my collection.  What a pleasure to do this with Kristine’s treasures.

Kristine was one of several women whose wares and stories intrigued me on this Lakewood trip.  You don’t want to read it all now…more posts will follow.  Suffice it to say that two hours at Lakewood inspired many days of creating.  The colors, the textiles, the combinations, and the people, all inform my sense of appreciation of the world.  What fun!

Lace Day

Yesterday was Lace Day.  It’s not on your calendar as an official holiday, but I’m proclaiming it.

 

 

 

 

Sometimes when I’m out shopping buttons call to me, other times it’s tattered linens who beg to be cut up and sewn back together.  Yesterday it was lace.  Everywhere I looked I saw lace.

There was white tatting, crocheted edging in white, black, and beige.  Technically, these may not be lace, but they are lacy and perform the function of lace in some of my projects.  All in today’s hunt were bargains.  Most were handmade.

If it’s stained, I will dye it.  If it’s not stained, I may dye it.  But I love giving a home to someone’s pieces with a memory.  I keep it out of the landfill and get to add more history to a  photo on cloth, or just a collage of vintage remnants.

I love walking through antique malls.  I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating.  It soothes my soul to see old things.  Memories surface at the sight of roller skates like I once owned, a towel in a stripe like my Mother had, even a can that held a ham.  The can may still hold a ham.  I didn’t want to know.  But when have I thought of those Sunday menus?  Ham from a can and orange macaroni and cheese from a box.  My Mother grew up wringing the chicken’s neck for lunch, so she embraced all the convenience foods available to her once they moved to town.

Inspiration comes in many forms.  The color palette here suggests a touch of black with some neutrals and that green.  Wow – that green.  If you subscribe to Julia Cameron’s advice in The Artist’s Way, to take your artist self on a date each week, this is the kind of thing she’s talking about.

I didn’t buy all you see in the photos.  Displays in the antique malls are inspiring, even if I don’t always make a purchase.  The way the pieces are displayed in a drawer, or old suitcase, or in a basket make me smile.

 

I bought some home with me.  Here is the pile of treasures.  I love the vintage bias tape and seam binding in the original package.  100% cotton, unstained.  At 25? each, I didn’t buy them all, but I did add to my supply.  And even the basket came home with me.  I love the double-handled  baskets for storing and carrying projects in progress.  The Longabergers are so sturdy.  I never bought them when people were having parties; I missed that boat.  But when I find them for a song (this one was $14), I grab them!

I don’t know what these finds will become.  But I know they will find their way to a project filled with memories.  Memories that include the fun time shopping for them and memories unknown to me but stored in the fibers of these pieces with a past.