About a week ago, I was roaming around the internet viewing blogs and allowing myself simple entertainment. I came across the blog of Ann Wood. It is worth a visit when you have time. In November, Ann visited the Fortuny Showroom in NYC, and she may collaborate with this company and use their incredible fabrics to make some of her designs. How exciting for her and what a perfect match for her creations and the textiles. I am hoping this becomes a reality. I would greatly anticipate Fortuny in her designs.

I have featured these pieces in another post, but while I talk about Ann I thought I would show them again in order for you to connect with her inspiration. Unfortunately, I do not have any photos that I could share with you or articles about her, but if you go to her site you will be so amazed. She uses old and shredded and worn antique clothing, deconstructs them and saves what she can to use in her birds, spiders, and owls. On one post, she hung one of the most beautiful antique dresses and featured the fragility and beauty of its state before she cut into it to salvage the elements, buttons, lace, trims, and other silks and cottons and linens. These photos are works of art in her suggestion of ephemeral beauty and a once elegant past.

I believe she lives near NYC and has the most amazing apartment that she shares photos of in one of her posts. I love the fact that she uses old bits and pieces of clothing and gives them new life in the most creative and wonderful way. She is certainly one to watch in the future.

Now I intend to change the subject here as it is time for other things on a blog that is supposedly textile-related, the huge subject that often consumes my life too.

I have several skirts in my closet that have needed a little help, so about two weeks ago I started adding some embellishment to the hems. This one has a velvet ruffle and I added a crinkly rayon ribbon to it.

My next skirt was a silk one that had cotton lace on the bottom. I added some French metallic trim as well as some crochet pieces that I had dyed about two years ago. I still need to iron this, but I like the way the colors turned out on this one.

The next skirt was a purple one that was way too long, so I shortened it and added a simple narrow ruffle of silk taffeta.

And finally I took the lining away from the bottom of the wool skirt that I had made of this old jacquard throw awhile back. It hangs much better and is now ready to wear for winter.

My next project has to do with chalk paints. More on that later in the week.

Last Thursday, I took a small road trip from Mendocino through the Anderson wine country and ended on Hwy 101 driving south just a few miles. I stopped and washed my car in one of those quarter-consuming, do-it-yourself washes, hand-dried it with old towels and then headed into the town of Healdsburg. This is one of those towns with a square in the center that used to be common and quaint and now has become very upscale and chi-chi with an expensive hotel, restaurants, and resort-style clothing stores. I miss the old Healdsburg, but at least it has maintained some of its antique and collectible shops on the outer skirts of town. I found this lonely applique square in one of those shops. I think the work is near-perfection and the fabric right out of the thirties. I am not a huge fan of this era for fabric, but when I see a piece like this it is hard to resist. I think it is quirky that the applique is not lined up to fit the square and has barely a quarter-inch allowance on one side.

There were 24 of these squares, each 6″, and I was pleased that there were an even number because designing with them will be easier. They seem destined for a quilt, a small one.

Everything I discovered that day was of this vintage, the 30′s or 40′s, and from two different dealers. This apron had an odd story to it that I discovered later when I started to disassemble it. I loved the design with the princess seams in the front, but I did not like the cheap polyester red bias tape that I guessed might have been added later. Or perhaps someone bought or had saved the fabric from this era and made an apron and added the bias as well as sewn the seams with invisible plastic thread on one side. I ripped out the seams and made a pattern of the apron for future use. I intend to sew the apron back together with cotton thread and then add a binding that is similar to the era of the fabric.

Early tomorrow morning I head back to Portland. The weather is very mild, overcast, and pleasant today in Mendocino. The weather today in Portland is 98+ degrees, so it looks like I will be heading back to the heat of the summer again. It is time to go trim my roses and return to my sewing room in the basement. I have many projects in mind, and the basement will be a place to escape the late summer heat.

Mendocino as seen from a distance….

In less than an hour I will be driving to San Francisco in order to get up early for the outdoor market in Alameda tomorrow. I will be home late afternoon the same day. I have read your comments on my last post, and I have to say they have given me so much to think about. I am so attached to all of you in so many ways. All the comments were thoughtful, wise, and strong. What an incredible group of women you all are. I can hardly wait to sit down and respond to each of you individually. Thank you so much for reading this lengthy post. I will try and get back to all of you this evening. I feel so fortunate to know all of you. You are a true inspiration in so many ways!

Sometimes I wonder where my energy went. Am I just getting old and thinking I have the energy of a twenty year old? Possibly. After my sale on Saturday, we went snow shoeing with our neighbors the next day. Yesterday, I simply collapsed in a heap of exhaustion. After New York, then staying up late every night talking with my daughter, getting up early to work on the sale, and then out in the snow all day Sunday, my body said “Enough!!” Today I am feeling more civilized and alert. Thank heavens for periodic breaks even though I seldom listen to the warning of fatigue.

I had only five people show up for the sale, two women who walked by the house, two neighbors, and a friend who knew in advance that I was having it. I thought the lack of attendance had to do with the beautiful sunny weather. Then later in the day I looked at the posting on Craig’s List and realized it had been dated the 16th, not the 20th. So I am leaving everything as is and repeating the sale this Saturday. I hope to get some fliers out as well in a few stores around my house.

I did serve some cake, brownies, and candy. I nibbled my way through the afternoon washing windows and folding laundry in between buyers.

At some point during the sale, the sign blew down. I think the sale was meant for another day. If my attendance is slow again, I will put the things away and do it later in the summer outdoors.

After we finished snow shoeing, we made two snow people. The weather was beautiful and we had breathtaking views of MT Hood. Today it is raining and our snow people I am sure are being covered in snow.

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!

The last week I have spent refining my space, myself, and my goals. In the process, I decided I wanted to keep only the most cherished textiles, trims, buttons, books and magazines in my workspace. It fits with my new model, a transformation that is slowly growing within and without and is promising to be more self defined. Therefore, the last three days I have been going through all of my new and old textiles, books, magazines, vintage clothing, and vintage textiles. I am clearing a path so I can better see where I am headed in the weeks and months ahead. It feels completely cleansing as if my body has been on a fast but instead it is my creative room and storage that have been purged…..in a good way. So I am having a sale the third Saturday of February. I am going to serve tea and cookies and cake and offer my things for sale at a fair and enticing price.

All this sorting has consumed the better part of my days. How could I have accumulated so much STUFF?? But I have been sewing for nearly 43 years and never thrown anything away. Now it is time to save only what speaks to me.

Some vintage textiles piled in a chair….

More vintage pieces piled on stacks of magazines…..

Decorator pieces….

And a box of solid-colored cottons I have had since I first began quilt making many years ago.

When the last of the tea has been served and the cake and cookie crumbs cleared from the plates, I intend to sit down in front of the fire and celebrate.

Symphony in White No. 2: The Little White Girl
1864 Whistler

It has been nearly a year ago that I began this blog under this name. Jude at Spiritcloth noted me in a post, and then it seemed to be a process of growth, the blog and my own. Previously I had a blog for a year under another name at Typepad, but it was not really going anywhere, and I was a bit frustrated. Now, after a year, I think I have finally found my voice. It is this I would like to address in this post. First, I will wear my heart on my sleeve as I recount some steps this year. Second, it will be the only time I will be willing to be so honest and candid with my personal life. So please bear with me as I reveal a little of this painful path.

We Are Not Alone
Allison Friend

A few months into my new blog, it had been noted that there was a sadness coming through my writing. I had not been aware of this, and was a bit jolted by it. This was not the image or the message that I wanted to convey. I decided to do my best to extinguish it, but what I discovered was that it was a feeling too prevalent in my life to erase with the help of a computer keyboard. Every time I wrote a post, I felt as if I was essentially hiding behind the photos and the words. I began to feel like a fraud, and I wanted to be forthright above all.

Illustration by Edward Robert Hughes

I decided to seek some counseling to find out why this sadness was so pervasive, and quite honestly, it had become a part of my daily life. When I went to see the counselor the first day, I was apprehensive and suspicious that this was even the right decision. Yet, I felt unable to figure this out on my own. When I entered his office I felt as if I had entered someone’s art studio. I felt immediate comfort and safety. The room had a sense of soul as well as a magical touch. I could not seem to absorb enough of the visual richness that I found and felt. When I caught sight of a framed picture, the exact one above, I decided there was much to discover here in this space, and that I would allow myself the time and energy to reside here for awhile. The uncanny thing is that I had framed this picture in a room that I had created many years back in San Diego at a time when my creative drive was at a peak.

After a few meetings and much inner exploration during this time, I decided my sadness most likely began during this time of my childhood, when I was barely six and in the first grade. It had been an awful introduction and beginning of school. I could not focus or concentrate. It was assumed I must need glasses, but my struggles continued and so did my inner turmoil, lack of confidence, and increasing shyness and introversion. It was during this year that I remember being always sad and confused and afraid. It became my persona, one that never ever left me. The only time in my life I have been at peace and felt safe was when I could get lost in a book. It was also the only time I could focus for any period of time.

The Artist’s Wife in the Garden
Peter Severin Kroyer

Reading became my connection to dreams and worlds beyond my own inner pain and frustration. I became a collector of books as well as many dreams, and this is where I have resided all of my life.

Postcard: “Thorton (Wilder), Mitchell (Kennerley), and Christopher (Morley) at the Gotham Book Mart and Gallery also known as Cats at Work by Rhonda Gray & Stephen T. Robinson

When I was about to leave for college, my mother made me an offer. She said if I would sew all of my clothes for my first year of college, then she would buy me any pattern or fabric I would need to complete this task. So during the summer before I was to leave for college, I spent my days and many nights at the machine perfecting my skills and building my sewing confidence. Essentially, this knowledge became an inherent part of my creative outlet as well as a gift that I have never been without my entire life since that time.

But sewing and reading are solitary pursuits, and over time I realized I was less inclined to become engaged in any social diversions. I was becoming more introverted even in the last few years. And I was becoming more depressed as a result. Going back and exploring painful scenarios is never easy, but I was finding a pattern in this. My blog had been a way to connect with people and share a little of myself. I felt at times that I was all over the place with subjects and ideas and plans. I thought my direction was to get back into making quilts. This had been too many years ago that I had followed this course. I did not realize it was really not my first love or dream now. It has taken me nearly a year to understand and define what it is that yearns to be my focus, and in the process my sadness and depression have dissipated if not totally disappeared.

I have a renewed focus and an energy and joy, something I have not felt, perhaps, ever. For those of you that have followed me and felt a little frustrated with my hopping around, I can truthfully say it was a definite expression in my posts. And since quilt making will no longer be my focus, I feel inclined to say that those of you who have put me in their blogrolls as one to follow in this particular pursuit, I will understand if you feel a need to take me off your list for this reason. We need to create the blogs that match our interests and personal goals, and I know from this point forward that I will be solely concentrating on antique and vintage textiles and relating these primarily to clothing design, textile history, and quilt-related history.

This has been a struggle in some ways to write this post. Who wants to admit that they have had to deal with depression or inability to focus, but I also feel that we live in a world of much sham. I do not want to pretend my life has been something other than what it is or has been. I will not discuss this again on my blog because I want this blog to be about creative pursuits, fulfilled dreams, and questions about life that relate to these goals. I think now going forward into my second year as mendofleur, the format will somehow seem cleaner and sharper and straightforward. And I just might be found dancing in and out of the lines as I write.

I must credit Sue from England for the term “up-cycling”. I like it because it is updated from recycling that covers so many different items in our culture. I want this term to be exclusive to clothing in this blog.

This is a used sweater that I want to update. I like the fit and the design, but was not too happy with the gathered fullness at the sleeve cap. It seemed dated.

I also felt the line of the armhole was a bit off, so I am going to restructure this so it has a closer fit to my shoulders.

I liked the styling of the back, but I did not want to repeat this fullness in the sleeve.

My idea is to cut some of the fullness out and then re-sew a new seam to fit the cap. When I complete this I will post the results.

The wrap skirt is on hold for a few days. I started thinking about how I would clean this after I made it and decided I needed to wash it in a delicate, cold-water wash before cutting it out. It had never been cleaned and, further, I would like to be able to wear it and care for it in the same manner without the need of a dry cleaner.

Having spent more time than usual in shops looking for something to wear to my daughter’s wedding, I had a chance to do some serious thinking about the way I dress, what is important to me, and how much that is being marketed and sold is uninspiring and uniform and dreadfully constructed. I guess what prompted me to delve deeper was when I was told in a bridal shop that the majority of shoppers had no idea about whether a garment fabric was silk or acetate and did not really care. They only wanted to look good in whatever they selected. I find this troublesome. What I also find disturbing is that this market will pay an equal amount for acetate as they will silk. Am I a fabric snob? Perhaps, but I think we need, as consumers, to take a hard look at what we are purchasing. I tend to be very selective in buying anything. It has to be well-made. The fabric has to be exceptional. The style has to be unusual. In this current market, I do not think any of those prerequisites fit into my expectations when I walk into a shop. I purchased this book out of curiosity, wondering what the author was saying about vintage clothing, a term that can surprisingly range from true antique to the 1990′s.

I have always loved vintage clothing because of the unique style as well as the workmanship in the majority of the garments. I started collecting some of these pieces many years ago because it would grant me the wish to dress in a very unique and memorable way. I was always drawn to Victorian whites, lace pieces, designs from the 20′s to the 40′s. Now I guess vintage includes clothing made up through the ’90′s. Too bad I gave so many things away. But I am digressing.

The author of this book, Melody Fortier gives solid advice on all sorts of vintage purchases. I especially respect and confirm what she has to say about new versus vintage: “…with today’s insatiable demand for cheap plentiful goods, manufacturer’s have had to cut corners. The result in not only diminished quality but a decline in style and innovation. For those who crave a wider palette from which to build a wardrobe, vintage is a fabulous resource.”

As I am thinking about all the dispirited racks and racks of sameness in the department stores and the malls, I reflect on Bloomsbury artist Vanessa Bell, sister the famous Bloomsbury writer, Virginia Woolf. Vanessa has been a muse of mine for many years now. She sewed many of her own clothes. She wore clothing that represented her strong character, her individuality. She loved color, design, simplicity in form, and she chose to reflect this in her style of dress. When she went to France, she always bought fabric that she could use for her clothing.

I think it is important to think about how we purchase our clothing. Are we buying without care or thought? Do we need all this stuff? My hunch is that if we were more discerning, we could have more fun with our looks and be better consumers at the same time.

I have some ideas I would like to explore. I have some very unique textiles and I would like to try using some of them for clothing. This wool jacquard piece above is a throw that I purchased in Lincoln, Nebraska when I went there for a conference on quilts and their history. I found this in one of the local antique malls. It was one of those “heart” purchases. I actually left it and walked out of the store only to return and purchase it a few minutes later. So please bear with me and do not despair, but I intend to make a wrap skirt with it. I think Vanessa would agree that it would be most suitable for this and that its languishing anymore in a back corner of my cupboard is simply not doing either of us any good.

The reverse side is on the right and could be used as the outer part of the skirt.

The fringe around the edge has all kinds of possibilities, perhaps even part of the hemline. I am dancing around so many ideas that are not letting me go. This is the beginning…..I want to explore this in depth, the re-purposing of vintage/antique textiles into unique and quality pieces that will hopefully be timeless and unrivaled in quality. It is an experiment, but one with possibility and promise I think.