The Yellow String Quilt

On the eBay pictures, the quilt didn't look quite as ratty as it really was in person. The box came and I opened it quickly in anticipation of my 'clean Florida vintage quilt.' True, it was clean. The seller was proud of the fact that she'd washed it prior to putting it up for sale. 

The quilt's condition proved that washing a vintage quilt in today's washing machines might be a mistake. It certainly was in this case. The cotton batting was  gathered in small hard lumps throughout the quilt. If it hadn't been machine-quilted in straight lines all over the piece, the quilt would have come apart completely in the wash. 

The string/Log Cabin blocks are sewn in sweet pastel prints from the 1930's. Each was outlined with either soft orange strips or dark navy strips. The navy-outlined blocks were the lucky ones as the orange-outlined strips were beginning to wear through everywhere. At last count, there's 42 repairs to be made on this quilt. 

The wide yellow border on this quilt makes the composition cheerful and gets it to bed size--in this case 64" wide by 84" long. The lines of machine quilting go right across this border and the batting clumps are evident. 

I'm thinking this might be an intergenerational quilt. The navy and orange strips around the blocks, the wide yellow border and even the thin floral flannel used as backing scream 1950's. And it's confidently machine-quilted. But the pastel prints are 30s and 40s--maybe Mom's work?

Maybe someone found or inherited the vintage blocks? And then decided that they'd complete the quilt with a modern up-do. But vintage/modern don't always co-exist well as the uneven wear shows in this quilt.

It's still welcome in the collection-repairs or not. I'll just keep it safe for now.

But it's a clean quilt--as the eBay seller stressed several times. Very clean.

Nothin' New

The buzz word of the the quiltmaking world is "stashbusters." This means a quilt that doesn't require you to purchase new fabrics. You use only what you have and thus "bust your stash."

For the four people left on the planet who might not understand the term: quilters have taken the word 'stash' (Dictionary of American Slang defines it thusly: "...a hoard of drugs.") and adopted it to mean their supply of fabric. My generation-Woodstock, tie dyed, smokin' Boomers-is responsible for equating drugs with the perfectly innocent concept of fabrics one might save for quiltmaking.

Quilts that use up scraps are nothing new. The photo here is a detail from a stashbuster quilt to be sure. A Spiderweb String Star from the state of Kentucky, this quilt was made between 1880 and 1900 and was one of the very first quilts I collected. It is frail and seldom travels to lectures unless I can pack it in my personal luggage. Some of the fragments are tee-tiny. This may be beyond stashbuster status-perhaps a "shnibble" quilt. Schnibble-Pennsylvania Dutch for itsy-bitsy.

A Double What?

One quilt pattern, the Double Wedding Ring, really took quilters' imaginations in the 1930s. Mountain Mist, a batting company, even printed it inside their quilt batting paper wrappers. The pattern was so unusual and challenging that many folks rose to the occasion, including one farm wife in Ottumwa, Iowa.I was teaching in Ottumwa and during downtime after class, strolled the local flea market and discovered this absolutely scrappy Double Wedding Ring quilt top. I can imagine the lady now, unrolling her quilt batting and discovering this novel quilt pattern. She evidently couldn't afford the six yards of white fabric recommended in the pattern so she improvised--with feedsacks! I love this piece. You can sense the quiltmaker's determination-" I am going to make this quilt, even if I have to use every scrap of fabric in the house!"

If 'Ottumwa' sounds familiar, remember it was Radar O'Reilly's hometown on the TV program Mash.

Oh boy, a quilter friend from Iowa has checked in and reports that things are not always what they seem in the great Mid-West...in other words, don't fall for any characterization of Iowan farm wives as simple rural folks. She also says she loves it in Iowa and then sends this report:

You can be ticking right along with someone, admiring her flower garden, her herb garden, her vegetable garden and her clothesline, praise her canning room and drop to your knees when you see her gold-painted meditation room adorned with only a mat, a candle and her yogi’s photo. You’ll be nattering along with a farmer about how his yield was last year when he’s interrupted by a phone call from a stock broker in Japan. Someone says, ‘Let’s get together for a wine dinner this weekend,’ and afterwards the elementary special ed teacher host and her bus driving hubby say bathing suits in the hot tub are optional.

Who knew Iowa was such a wild state?