Tag: antiquing

A Birthday Outing

It was my birthday…and a trip down memory lane.  Jim did a facebook post with lots of photos from the 40 years he’s had me in his viewfinder, and we visited places that triggered even earlier memories.  

We headed out the door with no particular plans in mind except maybe to visit a new-to-us antique mall, Planter’s Walk in Locust Grove.  Before we even went inside, I saw a garden sculpture that sparked the day of reminiscing.  And as we walked through the vendors’ booths, more and more memories surfaced.

The phrase “seeing your life flash by” is usually reserved for one’s final moments. But walking through this antique mall brought that phrase to mind. I’ll share the specifics with photos.

A little girl pulling up the hem of her dress reminded me of my sister. 

In this and many other photos, Jane was showing off her chubby little legs. She was teased a bit about this pose in years to come.

I had skates similar to this when I was a child.  We lived on a dirt road, so my skating was done on a concrete floor of the front porch, 10’ x 15’, I’d guess.  It was a big surface to me though.

Corning Ware cookware was a big part of my kitchen life in the 1970’s.

My mother had a set of these glasses.  I can still taste the orange juice when I see these small ones.

A butter mold exactly like the one my mother used.  (I have hers.)

The tag on this one said “folding milking stool”.  I don’t know if that’s its true purpose, but I had one as a child…just like it.

And here s a view of it folded.
Here I am sitting on my stool feeding my baby doll. Yes, those are barkcloth curtains in our living room. 1957 or so, I’d guess.
Clocks…lots of clocks were displayed here and there in this antique mall.  The WestBend with dark face is like one that sat on my Daddy’s bedside table and woke them every morning.  Well, it was set for that purpose, but Daddy usually woke before the bell rang.

Masks like I wore in fencing class in college.  Yep.  Fencing.  I made an A.

My mother had a jewelry box exactly like this.

I usually see an item or two in an antique store that prompts memories, but I don’t recall ever seeing as many as on this day!

And, then, if that wasn’t enough nostalgia for a day, we went to the grounds where I attended camp as a child and as a teen. Now known as the Georgia FFA/FCCLA Center, I visited for several days several times in the years between 1960 and 2000.  First as a camper (4-H in elementary school, FHA in high school) then attending state meetings of GALA (Georgia Association of Library Assistants) in high school, and finally with a group of educators working on curriculum in the 1990’s.  Another trip there could be in my future.  Quilters sometimes have retreats there….

The new dining hall building has a timeline of the camp over the years. This section is devoted to the first admission of women. My sister Jane would have attended FHA camp there in the early 1950’s.

There are changes that have taken place over the years, but a lot of the buildings and grounds are still familiar to me.  Especially the dining hall.  Wow.  As I walked inside, I could hear the shuffling of feet as hungry kids lined up for delicious food.  I could also remember the hush as a leader offered a blessing before the meal.  A new larger dining room exists now, but this one has been kept as it was, furniture and all.  It’s now sometimes used as a meeting space, but I bet others with memories as long as mine recognized how important it might be to revisit.

The original dining hall complete with original furniture. I’ve eaten many meals here.
Here I am in 1968 with a fellow GALA member. That organization was nerdy before nerd was a word, I guess. But I fit that description and reveled in going to meet with other like-minded teens in this glorious outdoor setting.

The campground has grown and changed over the years, as have I.  It can now house up to 1200 people with abundant opportunities for attendees to grow and change, too.  To revisit a place that was such an impactful part of my growing up was powerful!

This is the cabin I stayed in during my visit with math and science colleagues in the 1990’s. Different memories, but fond ones nevertheless.

The antique mall we visited was Planters Walk in Locust Grove.  More information is here: http://www.planterswalkantiquemall.com/

The website for the Georgia FFA/FCCLA Center is here: http://www.georgiaffacamp.org/

Hot Hot Summertime

One of our favorite pastimes is going shopping for antiques.  Now the words thrifting or junking are more popular than antiquing…but whatever you call it, Jim and I enjoy doing it.  

One of our favorite haunts is Monroe, GA.  It’s the birthplace of my partner in crime, so the route there and back is filled with stories of his childhood travels in that part of the state.  So as we travel to find treasures, we travel through time, too.

On our most recent visit, we took along a quilt.  It’s made with brightly colored fabrics using a pattern by Tula Pink called Birdseed.  I followed her suggestions for background fabrics in shades of gray, and pulled bright prints from my stash for the orange peel and flying geese blocks.  

I love quilts that combine applique and piecing, and this simple design gave me some handwork to do in front of the tv at night with minimal preparation.  In fact, to decrease that prep time even more, I used my Accuquilt cutting device to cut the melons.  The size die I had did not match Tula’s template size, so I resized the whole quilt.  I don’t know how many units her pattern specified; I just made them until I thought I had enough; put them on the design wall and moved them around until I was happy.  Then I sewed them together.

I pieced brightly colored fabrics for the backing, layered and pin-based the whole thing, then put it aside until this spring.  Quilting it was fun.  I played with different free-motion designs in each area enclosed by the melons.  As I finished this project, the daily high temperatures were three digits.  The vibrant colors in the quilt said, it’s Hot Hot Summertime, so that’s the title.

Several of the antique malls we visit in Monroe, Ga (throughout the state, actually) are housed in old textile mills. In front of Hodge Podge are some old techology relics.  We posed Hot Hot Summertime in several spots on that property.  Her vibrant colors are a nice contrast with the dull rust machinery; her soft texture pleasing against the hard surfaces of brick and stone.  

The entrance to another shop there provided a nice background for the quilt, too.
The quilt’s finished size is 46” x 55”, perfect for a napping quilt.  Yes, I’ve done that!

A vintage coaster (purchased on an earlier trip to this antique mall) serves as the label for the quilt.

Linen Luxuries

I went shopping and brought home some linen treasures.  They are all glorious to look at.  I can’t wait to stitch on them, piece with them, and maybe dip one in the dye pot.  The textures, the colors, the glorious weaves inspire me.  

Yesterday’s haul included four linen tea towels from India, a vintage French tea towel (the checked fabric in the photo), a white on white woven towel, and a pristine square linen tablecloth.

I can’t know all their stories.  But I can imagine…

Some have memories of India in those huge indigo vats where they dip linen to get this rich vibrant color.  These textiles are new.  Woven and dyed to sell to someone.  How many middle men shared in my money before I got them home? I don’t know, but I know I love all the hands that brought them to me.  And I can’t wait to stitch on them.

Those indigo tea towels were so gorgeous, I bought all four that the store had to offer. I hung three of them in the kitchen so that I can just enjoy their beauty before cutting and sewing with them…I might even use them as tea towels…

One has memories of France.  In whose kitchen did this towel do its work?  I can imagine it hanging on a wire hook against a stone wall in a kitchen with a brick floor and copper pots all about.  This is the kind of textile that inspires the French General collection of fabrics from Moda.  I’ve loved making things with those reproduction fabrics, but there’s nothing like the real thing to stir my soul.

I couldn’t resist pairing the “new to me” French towel with some other things already in my stash…awaiting the right companion.
This bit of wool applique (from a Maggie Bonanomi pattern) is waiting for more companions to make a new quilt…it’s coming together with this new acquisition.

And a woven textile of white on white – I’m not sure of its origin.  It has stains to show it’s been a worker, but the beauty of the weave caught my eye.  I might have been hesitant at the price until I saw the “S” monogram.  Yep, it came home with me.  This one might get a bath in a dye pot.  The stains would disappear, and the weave would become more pronounced.

I love imagining the places these fibers have been.  And I love imagining the possibilities of what they may become in my hands.  I’m not certain of those outcomes yet, but I do know that when I see them, or parts of them, I will remember a glorious day of strolling, shopping, browsing, antiquing, lunching, languishing over coffee with my soulmate.  There’s nothing more beautiful than that.

Is it a coincidence that the fabrics I bought yesterday are red, white, and blue?  I think so…but it’s certainly a good time to share them.  Another red/white/blue story is here…and some of the Moda French General fabrics are in the quilt here.  The blue and tan quilt in the background of some photos is described in more detail here.

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.