Many years ago, I found this old narrow reversible quilt at my old favorite thrift store. I loved that it was made from scraps, improvisational, hand and machine-sewn, and the fact that it was just plain old, and I like old sh*t.
I sewed a sleeve on the opposite of what I considered the more public side and hung it in my bedroom to ward off the cold seeping through the walls in my old apartment – I loved that place too because it was old – but damn, it was also cold.
It’s tufted with knots of white, blue, and reddish-pink (perhaps formerly red?) wool yarn. The interior might be filled with wool as well as it’s just a mass of somewhat disgusting clumpy lumps now, but I’d need to perform a little surgery to find out.
(And I don’t think I really want to see what’s in it in case it’s nasty).
The reverse has a pinwheel and some nice fabrics not seen on the front. This pinwheel got into my deep brain and caused me to make many half-demented pinwheels last summer, or maybe the summer before… I think I probably have enough to make something from them… I should find them.
I like this squiggly block.
The back has a few stained blocks, but were stained in their former life perhaps as clothing, as the stains were sewn over.
A few faint splotches look suspiciously like blood, or a really robust coffee mixed with a hearty and delicious red wine.
(That is also part of the reason I chose the other side to display).
And there are some lovely hand stitches too.
I also love that delicate blue pattern on the left side.
I can’t date it – there are definitely some old fabrics in it, perhaps from the 1910s, and the red, white, and blue color scheme could place it in WWII times, but some of the other fabrics have a 1950s and ’60s vibe? Though the shape is also older – long and narrow – somewhat too big for a crib and too small for a twin bed. It would probably best fit one of those narrow cot-like beds (don’t they have a name???).
But it seems that it could have been made from old clothes from a number of members of a family perhaps for a notable baby or a soldier – as a memento, or a comfort for someone leaving home.
But things are rarely as they seem, right?
When I was trying to pare down my things after I moved to N’s house, I gave it to him to give to one of his family members who was having babies at the time – I thought it would be nice for a wall in a kid’s room. But he wanted to keep it, though we didn’t get around to hanging it up then.
Or in that apartment of late of which I’d rather not speak or remember.
And we still haven’t put it up in the new house (or anything else yet until the painting is done…
rather, all of the repairs that need to be done to the walls before I can even begin to paint them).
But I rescued it from storage a few months ago, and I’m really glad I still have it.
And I love hate love hate love hate love that he enables me in the keeping of old sh*t.
ASTITCHMATISM 