A Pleasant Present

While Gladys was on vacation in Asheville, she went fabric shopping and brought back this reproduction pattern because it reminded her of me. See why we are friends? Although the glory days of me wearing anything that exposes that much skin is long gone, if they ever existed, I couldn't help weaving a fantasy or two around this dress.

Fantasy #1

The Dress is sky blue satin. I am wearing pearls, standing on the veranda of the chateau.

"No, Henri," I say, "it can't be. It just can't."

"But, darling........" he protests.

"No, Henri. I can't. I won't. Our time together was special, but it is over now. There is nothing more to discuss." I withdraw my hand from his. Henri begins to speak, but I silence him with a raised finger.

"No."

He turns to leave. I watch him without expression. I know he will rejoin the gala and soon there will be another candidate for Duchess. A soft breeze rises up from the Loire Valley and I wonder where it will send me next.

"Greece," I murmur to myself, "Greece." A villa on the Aegean, the perfect backdrop for my next adventure. I will begin packing in the morning...........


Fantasy #2

It is the annual Christmas party at my city house. There is music and dancing. The chandelier lights glint in the diamonds I am wearing with The Dress, this time in a smoky garnet velvet.

"Elise," the British ambassador says, "the Nazi storm cloud grows darker every day. You are the only one who can help us in this endeavor."

I laugh gaily. "Ambassador," I say, "do not be so serious. Surely we are being watched." I gesture to the Gauguin on the wall.

We drift over to the painting. Pointing to one of the figures in the painting, the British ambassador says, "So you will help us?"

I sip my champagne. Gazing at the painting, I remark, "At great personal risk to myself?"

"You are a resourceful woman," he responds.

"Surely you must know, ambassador, that the Germans have already approached me." My eyes lock on his.

"As surely as I know your family has not retained its great wealth over the centuries by picking one side over another," he replies.

"Then, ambassador," I laugh, taking his arm, "we understand one another. Do not contact me. I will make all contact. And now, I must rejoin my guests."

The National Museum of the American Coverlet

Yesterday was a sunny spring day. I had no appointments. I had paperwork that needed done. I did the only sensible thing; I gathered up Gladys and we took a trip to Bedford to the National Museum of the American Coverlet. (I tried really hard to make a clickable link. However, cut and paste http://www.coverletmuseum.org )

We expected this to be an interesting little place to add to our agenda that included stopping at Nothing But Purses, a few antique stores, and a nice dinner afterwards. We did have the nice dinner afterwards, but the museum turned out to be far more intriguing than we had anticipated. Coverlets, if you are unfamiliar with them, are woven bedcovers that evolved from home production on basic four harness looms during the late 18th century/early 19th century to the elaborate and incredibly beautiful jacquard woven coverlets. In the picture above, you'll notice that there is also a jacquard woven carpet on the floor, known at the time as Scottish carpet.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by Melinda and Lazlo Zongor. The museum is based on their personal collection of coverlets and Melinda has authored several books on the subject of coverlets. Lazlo's department is charm, and he gave us a personally escorted tour of the museum.

We learned that most of the jacquard weavers were from Germany, England, and the Netherlands and you can tell which state the coverlets originated in by the design. Germans were very fond of including red and the British weavers loved the classic indigo and white combination, but this is by no means exclusive. We learned the jacquard coverlets were most extensively woven in New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. The Zongors are currently working with the Indiana State Musuem in Indianapolis, assisting them with their coverlet collection. Many weavers wove their names, a date, place, and the name of the person the coverlet was woven for into one of the corners. The home weavers were women. The professional weavers were men. If there is a female name woven into the design, she is the owner, not the weaver. In the early 19th century, most of the buyers of woven coverlets were successful farmers who wanted a way to demonstrate their prosperity. Professional production of coverlets slowed considerably when the Civil War started because wool and cotton production went to soldiers' uniforms. After the Civil War, the railroads made consumer goods more available and the production of handwoven coverlets ended. I loved the older, home produced coverlets and the museum has old photos of women at their home looms. I try to imagine growing, spinning, dyeing, and weaving everything needed for a coverlet while cooking meals, raising children, undoubtedly doing some farm work, and cleaning house.
















The museum has a little collection of old looms and spinning wheels. I have tried my hand at weaving. Warping a loom is a two person, all day affair. I can appreciate the difficulty of warping a loom and passing each warp thread through those twisted strings on the loom above.

This coverlet was one of my absolute favorites. The old indigo dye colors are so beautiful and this design just flows so nicely. Coverlets were woven in two sections and sewn together in the middle. If you look at the far right of this picture, you can see the weaver cleverly designed this coverlet so that there is a nice stripe up the middle instead of having to match horizontal stripes.

Windham Fabrics has produced a line of quilters' cotton based on designs from the coverlets in the museum's collection. The museum shop has this collection as well as some other reproduction prints. I couldn't resist these two.


There is so much more fascinating information on coverlets. If you can't make it to the museum, check out Melinda Zongor's books, Coverlets and the Spirit of America: The Shein Collection and Coverlets at the Gilchrist: American Coverlets 1771-1889.

If you do make it to the museum, I hope you get the chance to talk with both of these fascinating people. Tell Lazlo I said, " Jo napot."

Fashion Fusion

My niece lives in Chicago and my brother, on his way from Florida to Pennsylvania, took a little detour to visit her. While he was there, they visited my niece's favorite vintage store, Fashion Fusion, and I got some vintage sewing patterns as a gift.

I like old sewing patterns. They're nice to collect because they don't take up a lot of space and are relatively inexpensive. I've used some of them to make clothing, but you have to be careful when you wear or sew vintage. You run the risk of looking like you are in costume, or maybe an extra in some period movie. But here are my prizes:


1. From the 1950's, we have a nice skirt pattern. You can bet there are several petticoats under those skirts. There are 3 yards of fabric in each skirt. I rather like the top shown with the yellow skirt, which is not included in the pattern. I could troll the vintage pattern websites for a pattern for a similar top, but where's the thrill of the chase?


2. Might as well get the embarrassing part out of the way. I confess: I knowingly bought this pattern in 1969, made the shorts, and WORE them. I made them in a cute little blue floral print with white rickrack on the suspenders. Very Tyrolean. I don't know if you can see in the picture, but someone wrote "no" with little zig zaggy arrows pointing to the knee socks worn with the yellow skort. Sound advice that I, in 1969, did not take.




3. This one is my favorite, a nice A line dress from 1970. I think I will make this one. Might need to do a little work on the armholes and I'd prefer the neckline to be a little looser, but this one is a keeper, a style still wearable 39 years later.


4. I am trying really hard not to squeal embarrassingly, but look at this one. I want to make this and wear it SO bad!! Don't you love the stand up collar on the jacket? With the cape, it is just too much. This groovy darling is from 1968 and the only thing stopping me from making this one is that I don't have a hat like that. I'm seeing it in red wool gabardine with the top stitching in red sewing silk. Black patent leather shoes and a purse. I'm there. I am so there.