New Year’s Thoughts-I Write the Needle’s Praise
To purchase this wonderful book, visit https://hobbyhouseneedleworks.com or https://scarlet-letter.com
One of my favorite Christmas gifts this year was an exhibit catalog entitled “I Write the Needles Praise” from Witney Antiques in England. The exhibit featured fine needlework dating from 1630 to 1730. Take a minute and think about it. Work wrought by young women (as young as 10) survived the centuries. And we, in this modern world of women who can do anything stop to marvel at their talent and industry. These samplers are what remains of these long-lost sisters. Is this not amazing?
I have a favorite book on needleworking called “Threads of Life-A History of the World Through the Eye of a Needle”. It explores the role of needlework through the centuries. It talks about how the work remains as an echo in time to remind us that these women once existed. There are few records of women’s lives during the period of time the Whitney samplers were stitched. A name and age noted on the sampler itself may be the only scant notation that they were ever here. And yet, the Bayoux Tapestry, the slave quilts, and the numerous samplers are saying to us through the centuries, “We were here.”
Threads of Life can be found or many bookseller sites or consider visiting your local bookseller!
What does this have to do with window coverings? Probably nothing but as someone who might be reading this as a way to get to know me and my business better, you should know that first and foremost, I am a needleworker. This role in my business will likely shift as I look for ways to grow and increase my bottom line in this upcoming year. I might not be as hands-on. But I will always approach the work first and foremost as a needleworker.
As we turn the page on a new year, I’m thinking about my life’s journey and what led me to this point and this profession. The answer is so simple: I have always been drawn to sewing both for the home and for personal pleasure.
It all started when I was ten. Flipping through Better Homes and Gardens, I found instructions for constructing a “sausage chair”. It was like Ralphie and his Red Rider bb gun. I had to have it. Let me describe its construction: sew a long tube, close one end, stuff it, close the other end and then wrap it in on itself. When it was rolled, a portion of the sausage was stacked on top of the seat to create a back. The seat and back were secured with snaps. Think of a beanbag just not as comfortable.
In my imagination, that sausage chair was going to be my nook. The place where I’d read and moon over the future (hey, I was after all 10). So, I convinced my mother that I needed to do this. A violent purple and pink floral chintz was purchased. Mom’s trusty Necchi hummed as I worked on my one long seam. Voila! It was done.
This isn’t THE chintz. You can get the picture though.
As most home dec projects go, so did my room. The chair wasn’t enough. Oh no. I needed paint. A vivid purple to match the fabric was splashed on the walls. Oh, and we needed curtains. Again, purple cafe length with ruffles all around. Bliss!
Ok, it doesn’t sound like the greige reality we all face when we look at design blogs and mags. But boy do I remember how that room made me feel. I felt cozy. I felt secure. My heart squeezes a little when I think of it. The nostalgia for my old room is so overwhelming.
And from that project, a needleworker was born. Not everyone’s cup of tea, I know but when you find your bliss, you find it.
From there, I sewed a little more for the home and picked up fine needlework as a hobby. Then I did the next logical thing: I majored in Accounting. Let’s just say I wandered in the desert for a lot of years before I took the leap and made needleworking my profession.
Here I am all these years later still doing the same things ten-year-old me did and I still experience pleasure from the process. My window treatments are more than just a business to me. Knowing I have created the 21st-century version of the sausage chair for customers brings me joy. The cross stitch and crewel I do for pleasure are often given as gifts to friends and family. It’s so much fun to find the perfect pattern and stitch it up. I frame it and leave a note attached to the back to tell that friend what they mean to me and why I stitched it for them. Maybe some echo of me will survive down the ages.
This sampler was stitched for my garden gnome loving friend. A gnome for each member of the house and a little beating heart representing a yet to be named granddaughter.
On my 10th Christmas, I was gifted a copy of Little Women by my sister who was an English major and would go on to become one of the best librarians I have ever known. On the flyleaf she wrote the following inscription:
“For Dianne on Christmas 1970-
This was a very special book to me when I was a little girl and I still think it’s special even though I’m older. I hope you’ll love it as much as I do. Love, Donna”
Here is the flyleaf inscription. My version was illustrated by Louis Jambor. I treasure this.
Well, I immediately dug into the lives of the March sisters. I had to take a break when Jo turns down Laurie because the disappointment was too much to bear. When I took it up again, I got to the sad ending of Beth’s story. As her strength waned, she still managed to make up and give away little gifts to the children passing by her window. Then, Louisa May Alcott wrote a line that absolutely gutted me:
“It was well for all that this peaceful time was given them as preparation for the sad hours to come, for by–and–by, Beth said the needle was 'so heavy', and put it down forever.”
When needleworking is part of your DNA, the thought of losing the strength to take up a needle is heartbreaking. As I head into this new year, I pray the needle will stay light for many years to come. Whatever it is that defines your bliss, may it stay light for you as well. Happy New Year, 2023-let’s all strive to leave our mark.