On my early morning walks, I have become accustom to listening to audio books. I was finding that I was not working through and reading the list of books I perpetually use as a guide, so I decided to borrow some audio books from the library. This morning, I finished listening to Azar Nafisi’s book Things I Have Been Silent About. It has been a fascinating experience especially after getting to know her a little after listening to Reading Lolita in Tehran. Toward the end of the audio this morning, she describes her mother’s habit of collecting and hoarding, and as she ages, it becomes worse. Nafisi talks about collecting, in general, and why people are drawn to certain things. She does not criticize the habit, but she points out that when collecting becomes hoarding, and you no longer know what you have or never integrate it into your life, then it becomes a rather negative, burdensome practice. I have been thinking about this a lot all morning. My mother often never used special things like dishes or table linen or perfume or body lotion because she was going to save it for just the right time. Often that time never arrived.
So after sorting through more boxes with patterns and some stray textiles yesterday, I discovered this piece, long forgotten. I set it aside thinking it was quite special and I needed to do something with it. I bought it from a dealer awhile back and had forgotten it. Then after listening to the book this morning, I wondered, was I becoming like Azar Nafisi’s mother? Could I not remember what I had anymore? Was I a hoarder and no longer a collector?
My initial goal yesterday was to look for a pattern for a wrap skirt that I could use for my vintage jacquard wool. A brief search turned into an all afternoon dedication of organizing and categorizing all my patterns. I do integrate these into my life and use them. I never save them for a perfect time or day. Then I found these patterns that belonged to my mother and suddenly I was reliving the past, her love of sewing and fashion, and her desire to always be frugal. When I was growing up in the 50′s, my mother dressed like all women did when they went out. They always wore hats and gloves. My mother made so many of her hats, and I remember these patterns as well as the hats she made from them.
Next, I found her wedding gown pattern. I find it amusing that she wrote across the front in red ink that we should remember this was the pattern she had used, and if we were curious, the wedding gown was in the cedar chest.
She could not afford silk satin or charmeuse, so she chose a synthetic with a close resemblance.
It had a modest train in the back, and when my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, my mother walked down the staircase into the hall holding up the train with the loop and creating a dramatic entrance for all to see. She was so proud that she could still wear her wedding gown after all these years.
I always loved the tiny loops and covered buttons in the back. A strange occurrence took place at my daughter’s wedding with this dress, only known to me. At the last minute, I had grabbed the dress and literally thrown it in my suitcase in my rush to get to the airport. I intended to iron it and hang it in the room where my daughter and her bridesmaids were to get ready. I don’t know why, but I guess because I am always sentimental over these family events that seem like milestones in our lives. The morning of the wedding was hectic. We were all so busy setting up the room for the reception and thinking of so many things. I had left my mother’s gown in the hotel room thinking I would iron it later and bring it over when everyone was getting dressed. I never managed to get it there. In retrospect, I feel a little badly about this, but now as time moves forward, I am inclined to think, I wanted my mother at the wedding. I wanted her to see her last grandchild wed. Honestly, I think she was there in spirit in so many ways, and I find this very comforting.
But now I must be alert to my habits of hoarding versus collecting, another reason to be vigilant in my quest for refining my stuff!
Hmm… hoarding implies an unwillingness to share. Collecting does not. Saving something for a special occasion, that’s a hard habit to break but I think a good one to work on. Never know what tomorrow will bring….
I love that you took your mother’s wedding dress to your daughter’s wedding.
Great insight! Hoarding seems to imply an unwillingness to share while collecting does not. Just the word “hoarding” seems negative to me.
Morning Phyllis, just sent you an e mail and also will be sending letter by surface mail. Have logged on to your blog and read your post about your mother’s wedding dress, which I loved and found very interesting. All that you write about rings bells for me! My mother did not sew clothes, but spent her entire life knitting garments for me and my children, and lots of other family members. She did do embroidery and teach me, which gave me a love of sewing and not knitting. I was brought up in the fifties with the concept of ‘best clothes for Sunday’ and new outfit for Easter, good china, and even a best front room that was only used on special occasions.
When my mother died and I had to sort out her stuff, it struck me how other people’s valued trinkets can appear like tatt to a stranger, yet those items hold all sorts of memories, and almost have a life of their own. Only two weeks ago I parted with a few of her clothes which I had been keeping, thinking it really was silly to havethem lying at the bottom of my wardrobe gathering dust. But I could not part with a couple of her scarves and a particular hand knitted yellow cardigan which she wore quite a lot.
Thank you so much for your post and your shared thoughts. I will read this author now, add her to my long list! Kindest regards, Valerie
These are the stories that I love to read. How we grow up and what influences seem to guide us in our lives as adults. Your mother loved knitting and you turned to sewing as an expression. Since I was brought up in the fifties as well, I could relate to the Sunday best as well as the “new outfit for Easter” and the china as well. I am trying to use my best things on a regular basis because whenever I do they seem to make the day or the event special, and I love that.
I think it was dear that you kept your mother’s clothes as long as you did, and then kept the sweater that she wore a lot. When I cleaned my mother’s house out with the rest of my family, I found it intriguing, too, how we were all drawn to keeping different things that meant something to each one of us, and yet the “tatters” were unanimously ignored. Maybe these were the pieces, however, that told more of the life story in a more mysterious fashion.
there is a fine line between hoarding and collecting… i too have been thinking much about this…
My guess is that you might be right about this. How to find a balance….it always seems to come down to this. But what I am finding is that whether we hoard or collect, it all takes time to manage it.
Oh, I love your story about taking your mother’s wedding dress to your daughter’s wedding ~ so sweet! I picture the two wedding dresses intermingling, having a conversation with one another. And even though the dresses might not have ended up in the same room together, I have no doubt that a great and ongoing conversation is taking place amongst you, your mother, and your daughters, at all times, in all places, about all things. There is hardly a day that goes by, after nine years since my mother died, that my whole body does not turn to reach for the phone to tell her something. It comes with a jolt that I do not need the phone anymore, I can just speak aloud, or silently, wherever I am, and she will hear. xo Kari
I love your thoughts about not needing to reach for the phone to call your mother, that you can simply express something to her in that immediate space and time and know she will hear. So I guess when a solution comes so quickly and I had no idea how it arrived, perhaps it was my mother speaking to the moment and being present in my confusion. What a nurturing thought. And, yes, there must have been many conversations taking place the day of the wedding. I do think she was present in all her finery.
You really learned to sew from an expert. The rest of us kind stumbled along. Wow, that dress is amazing.
It is the most difficult to separate myself from pieces of fabric. I find that I still have fabric from the clothes I made my son. Sentimental, I guess. But, I think, that fabric and the possibilites are what keep me from giving to good will. I will pass on to another sewer but I Must feel their pure intentions.
I absolve you of all the dire meanings of “hoarder”!
Your thoughts on your keeping your fabric, especially the pieces that were used for your son’s clothing, makes all the sense in the world to me. If I do not have a connection to a piece of fabric, I find it easy to sell or recycle. But if it takes me back in time with a memory, there is something so sacred about this. It seems these pieces have a little bit of soul. I guess this is why so many women used to make a lot of their quilts from pieces of family clothing, memories stitched to preserve time and loved ones.
Thank you for your absolution!
What a lovely story and what a beautiful dress. Your mother was an expert so to see. I’m sure she was there, in that dress and overlooked the whole situation.
XXXm
She was the angel in white hovering above the celebration and sprinkling a dusting of love. Thank you for returning!
I grew up with a hoarder so I understand the feeling. I have to admit I do hoard fabric and embroidery yarn. I am always worried I will want to make something and not have the fabric(I’ve gotten slightly better as of late). I love the story of the wedding gown, it seems the perfect ending as you said your mom always seemed to save things for a special day and that day never came, so it was a wonderful tribute to both your mom and your daughter that the day came and the dress didn’t! Blessings to you.
I am beginning to think we should not use the word “hoarder” for our special collections! I guess it is all a matter of perspective and naming too. Thanks for the thoughts too on the dress and the memories.
I’ve just found your blog and am nourished by your attention to being honest about who you are and what you need to say in such a public forum.
Blogs do give us the opportunity to express something very honest and true. Yes, you can gloss up your narrative with the photo quality and leave out what doesn’t make sense, but I feel that they have become a way of writing that is close to a letter, you feel one on one with your reader and also close to a journal in that you are keeping a record of your own thoughts over time.
Your thoughts about whether we are hoarding or collecting are provoking. I have inherited old dishes, linens, silver and photographs. What else to do but to hoard them – they are part of family history?
On the other hand, I work with vintage linen in some of my work, and am often given plastic bags full of domestic embroiderery from women who have hoarded it for long enough. They are thankful that they can give it away – but now, what do I do with it?
Thank you very much for your wonderful blog. I shall revisit.
I am so happy that you have visited and made a comment. I have been to your blog and think your work is peerless. All the stitching that you do and the “slow cloth” honoring of a piece. You have great patience and a sense of beauty for these remarkable works that you produce.
I was raised by parents who were very private people. Everything had to be kept close, never shared, as this was inappropriate and in poor taste. I find as I get older that I don’t want to keep everything “airtight”. I want to be honest with myself and with others, and I guess I feel that if someone does not like what I disclose, it really is there issue, not mine. Too much unnecessary secrecy in this world.
I am using my best things now for everyday: my mother’s china, my silver, my cherished odd pieces of Limoges and hand painted plates that I love. When a collection of very old porcelain creamer and sugar sets came crashing to the ground from an antique shelf whose hanger broke, I decided then and there that nothing was too precious to not use and enjoy every day.
My one all-time weakness happens to be very fine lace. To say I hoard this is quite accurate. I will probably keep collecting this until I die. I know no discipline in this regard! So in reading of your collections, I find comfort in my own. And you use your vintage linen in such an exquisite way, so one never knows when you will need that very special piece. So better to keep all!
I really like what Deb wrote about “hoarding implies an unwillingness to share. Collecting does not. ” That sounds
right to me. You strike me as a woman who is willing to share
and I know for myself that I try to only keep what I know is useful to me and what I intend to use. I like the idea of listening to books on audio.
It is so touching that your mother made her wedding dress and wore it another time! I am sure your mother was with you. The patterns are fantastic.
I liked Deb’s comment too. I like to share especially when I know I have something that someone might enjoy more than I would. This kind of sharing feels so right to me. Why keep something that is not cherished or usable in the future? Sometimes I would love to give some things to my kids too, but they all have such different taste. I am sure you know this well with your children too. Thank you for your always generous and gracious comments.
Oh dear. I think I am both a collector and a hoarder… However, what I collect and hoard is constantly changing, so every now and again I have huge clear-out sessions, and then the process begins again! When I was little, the first thing I can remember falling in love with was stationary, you know, pads and notebooks, unused, pristine blocks full of potential. I used to spend all my pocket money on these objects of desire, I was quite arty, and would draw and paint in some of them, but it was wonderful just to have so many… in a pile, treasure indeed. Sounds a bit odd, I know, but I have always done this with things I like. Vintage clothes, antique toiles, wool & fleece when I used to spin and dye for my own weavings, even bags and bags of feathers when I was a mask-maker for a while! There’s no hope for me, I’m sure! xx
Lois, please be a collector as well as a hoarder because, of all people, you manage to come up with the most wonderful textiles and related items. Your ongoing stash is our dream. Just reading your comment confirms what a creative and artistic person you are in so many different areas. Look at all the things you have done! I really hope you will share some of the wealth of information and beauty on your blog. I think you are a little reluctant to share this, but you have such an incredible eye! Share with us your art! I think you are amazing, Lois!
Hello again Phyllis, re your reply above, I am intrigued to explore some of the creative paths that have led me to where I am at the moment, one of the major ones was costume-making & wearing during the 80s & 90s for 15th & 16th century historical displays, I have just posted a little about it. xx