A "Crazy" Story

When we first started our blog and set up our Through the Needle's Eye website, our hope was to invite others with stories of their quilts to share. In fact, on the home page of our website, there is a form asking you to share stories you may have about your treasures. We were absolutely delighted to receive this email a few weeks ago from Kathleen Barden. Her story was so fascinating that we asked her permission to share it with you. She has kindly accepted our invitation, and thrilled us further by sending pictures. Thank you, Kathleen! And readers—enjoy!!

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The end of the story is that I have three exquisitely embroidered crazy quilt panels with four 12.5-inch blocks in each panel. Plus another four-block panel that lacks embroidery over the joined block seams. Plus eight more 12.5-inch embroidered crazy quilt blocks waiting to be sewn together. Plus two 21-inch blocks with some embroidery and theorem painting in the centers. I believe the blocks may date back to late Victorian times. I'm looking for information about how to honor the history of these blocks while creating a finished quilt. 

The middle of the story is that I have already spent approximately 15 hours removing the three intact, completed panels from a brown Velveteen dress made in the late 60's and worn in a high school student play. She was an excellent seamstress, making fashion forward clothing until a few weeks before she died. 

The beginning of the story is that, for helping a friend downsize her sewing room, she gave me three boxes of her favorite fabrics. She had owned an upscale fabric shop in an exclusive suburban area from the early 1960s to the mid 1990s. As I was in the midst of packing to move as well, I sealed, then labeled the boxes and put them with the others to be moved to my new guest/sewing room. Recently, anticipating overnight guests, I have been cleaning up my sewing room. Stored under the bed were those three boxes. One box contains her favorite blue and white batiks from her travels in Indonesia. Another box is full of glorious yards of jewel-toned silks, satins, taffetas, and velvets. The third box held that dress she'd made for her daughter from parts of a crazy quilt, and all the rest of the intact, leftover crazy quilt blocks. The next chapter is mine to write/sew.

Here are some pictures you might like to use, along with my story. 

One of the lessons learned from all my efforts with this project to date is the critical importance of documentation for everything I do and create. I had a habit of labeling my "really good stuff." Henceforth, everything is getting labeled!

Just in the last two weeks, I "unearthed" an address for one of my benefactor's daughters. She informed me that, also in the mid 1960s, her Mom made a brown velveteen skirt and a vest with crazy quilt blocks for her younger sister. Neither can remember what happened to those garments. They both believe that their Mom either won the blocks in an auction or purchased them in an antique store. Although their Mom had the ability, neither remember her adding any embroidery of her own to the blocks. 

I am more reluctant than I was, to add any details of my own; keeping all that I have original to that talented woman whose name I shall never know but whose work I want to honor. It's becoming an awesome responsibility to own these beautiful pieces of another woman's history. I'm thrilled that her lovely work will live on and be appreciated well after she is gone.

Thank you. I look forward to reading the comments that your followers will add and to learning more about crazy quilting in general.

 ~by Kathleen B. Barden

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If anyone has any information or suggestions for Kathleen as to how she can "honor the history of these blocks while creating a finished quilt," please give her some feedback in the comments below. We would all appreciate any suggestions you might have. Again, many thanks to Kathleen for sharing her story with us all; hopefully, our group effort here can offer her some ideas about how to preserve these treasures.

Labeling the Past

Collecting antique quilts, quilt tops, and blocks has become somewhat of a hobby for me (Kara) in the past three years. Before I started actively searching for antique quilts, I inherited a beautifully made Turkey Red Snowball variation quilt. This beauty had been in my family for some time and was passed down to me from my aunt, along with a funny story that you can read about in Seeing Red and White.

My Turkey Red quilt

We can only suspect the maker based on some family genealogy, as there is no label or signature.  Unfortunately, the lack of knowledge about the maker and why the quilt was made is the sad story for most of my antique quilts. When the quilts were appraised, I gained a little more knowledge about the materials, construction, and age of the quilt, but it's a guessing game as to the rest of the story. How I wish that the makers of the past had labeled their quilts.

True confession time: I am a repeat offender of not labeling my quilts.

Not knowing a lot of the information about my antique quilts has been frustrating. So as not to frustrate someone in the future who ends up owning these quilts, I have been motivated to be more diligent about labeling my own quilts—the ones I make and the ones I acquire. I was asked to show my modest collection at our next guild meeting so I thought it would be a perfect time to get my act together, put my money where my mouth is, and get some labels made. 

I am in a couple of Facebook groups that focus on antique quilt fabrics and quilts, and I asked for their advice as to the best method of labeling. Based on their wisdom, it seems simplicity is the key, so I will start with the basic information of what I know and get that down first. I researched a few tutorials on the internet and here are a couple that were helpful: Label the Old and How to Make a Quilt Label. Plain muslin seemed to be a good choice for a simple label, so I cut some muslin pieces, gathered my appraisals and a micron pen, and got to work.

All set to get some labels done

Unfortunately I don't have any freezer paper at the moment, which might have helped my handwriting, but the goal was to start, so I did without. I made a lined template out of ruled notebook paper and a sharpie. My appraisal reports from Phyllis Hatcher gave me most of the information I needed. I tried to keep it simple and only include things that weren't readily apparent by looking at the quilt. I used an archival-quality micron pen for the writing, and my template helped me keep my lines straight (sort of).

Ready to be stitched onto the quilt.

One of the interesting things about this quilt is that it was damaged by bleach at some point, and my aunt—fearing her mother's wrath—fixed it with a red permanent marker.

My aunt's fix was a permanent marker!

Once the label was finished, I heat-set the ink, turned under the edges and then carefully attached it to the bottom corner with a whip stitch. It struck me as I was stitching that I was stitching on a quilt possibly made by a relative; someone who took such care with her quilting stitches. It was a bit mind-blowing. Who was this woman who hand quilted so perfectly, and why did she reverse the color on one of the blocks?

It's not fancy, but the information I have is now on the quilt.

I'd like to say I made labels for all my antique quilts in one sitting, but in the interest of full disclosure, I didn't. Starting the process was a huge step, and by next week I should have them all done. Feel free to comment and ask "Kara, did you finish your labels?" We all need a little accountability in our lives.

Do you have any tips or tricks for your quilt labels? Please share so we can all be more diligent about labeling the fruits of our labors for the generations to come.