This is the 15th year of continuous daily publication for 365Caws. All things considered, it's likely it will be the last year as it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to find interesting material. However, I hope that I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world with my natural history posts, or encouraged a novice weaver or needleworker. If so, I've done what I set out to do.
Friday, March 6, 2020
Vintage Crocheted Apron
Day 145: "Copyright 1946 by The Spool Cotton Company, price 10 cents." That's the stats from a book of patterns "Featuring 14 New Pineapple Designs" which was gifted to me by a member of our Morris dancing side. I paged through it briefly at the time, more intently once I'd arrived home, and knew as soon as I saw it that I simply would have to make this dainty, delicate little apron for entry in the Washington State Fair. I reinterpreted it slightly, using black ribbon instead of white for the trim to bolster the suggestion that it would be worn by an upstairs maid. Maybe I've been watching too many Victorian dramas lately, but I love lace despite what my rugged, outdoor persona might suggest. Even as a costume, I couldn't pull off the look for longer than thirty seconds holding perfectly still with my mouth arranged properly by having repeated, "Prunes, prism" three times before the sitting. I can't disguise my stride or body language; sooner or later (sooner, most likely), years of wearing boots and plodding uphill shows through. The appreciation and construction of lace (the more delicate the better) are what I refer to jokingly as my "pink and fluffy side." Sometimes it peeks through the angular greens and browns of my root lifestyle. So what purpose will this vintage re-creation serve once its Fair days are done? I do not know, but as long as it is in my possession it will serve to remind me of the highly romanticized but gentler and more courteous times of my grandmother's era, and how vainly she tried to instill in me the deportment appropriate to a lady. For all of having missed her mark in that, her skill at lace-making and her love of lace transferred at least in part to my hands and heart.
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