Another Edwardian Day Out: Steam, Teens, and Tours

After the success of Edwardian Day Out in May, the DFWCG scheduled another Edwardian Day Out for October 15th since the house tour tickets for Thistle Hill were also good for visiting another local Victorian home: the Ball-Eddleman-McFarland House (what a mouthful!).

The house is tucked up at the end of Penn Street and isn’t visible from the busier thoroughfares of downtown, so many people don’t know about it. Chris and I had actually discovered it by accident when we first moved back to Fort Worth years ago. We did a creeping drive-by of the property, but it’s not obvious at all that the property is open for tours (Indeed, even the historical marker, like so many Texas Historical Markers, is planted pretty deep into the front yard, so you have to park and tromp through the grass to read it. This is super awkward when you can’t tell if the property is public or private. Why, Texas? WHY?). We gaped, then drove away.

You don’t forget an epic porch like that, though, so when I saw the picture on the Thistle Hill ticket for the McFarland House, I was excited! We finally could tour the mysterious house on the hill!

Becky, Marcella, and I got dressed and drove out a little early to meet the group and get some pictures on the porch.

The house is owned by and used as offices for Historic Fort Worth, the area preservation society. However, they have a sign by the front door that says to ring the bell for tours at 1pm, 2pm, and 3pm. The event had been scheduled for the 2pm tour, but alas, as 2 o’clock inched closer, no other cars pulled up the quiet street and we wandered the wide, empty front porch alone, debating what to do. Well, we were already there, tickets in hand, so we rang the bell!

Mrs. Jackson, the docent on duty, met us at the door. I’m sure we made quite a presentation in our garb on a quiet Sunday afternoon! She guided us around the lavish first floor that was just covered in gorgeous woodwork from floor to ceiling surrounding luminous stained glass, and had stunning Edwardian light fixtures and 1940s wallpaper in every room. The brightest, most iconic room in the house is the lavish peachy formal parlor covered in flocked pink wallpaper and lit by 30+ individual lights in brass tulips, like an opera house! (I wish I’d gotten a better picture of them, but I was too busy looking around. There is this lovely photo by Peter Calvin, though, if you can’t tour the place yourself.)

The house had been owned by a succession of very wealthy families and each woman that owned the house had added her own touches to the property. It was interesting to see what each subsequent mistress added and removed. The exciting wallpapers throughout the house were added mid-century, but they suited the house so well that you might never guess!

We couldn’t tour the upstairs because Historic Fort Worth had converted all the rooms into offices, but we were assured it had been done so that the house could be returned to its original state should they change locations. It was a little disappointing to only get to tour the downstairs of the house. If you stopped by to tour the McFarland House before Thistle Hill and found out your $20 tour only covered a few rooms, you might be very disappointed at how little your money seems to afford you. However, since the tickets are good at both houses, the McFarland house is like dessert after a Thistle Hill dinner.

Despite the series of shortcomings, we made a good day out of it. The weather was just stunning: the right temperature for both layered corseted outfits and lighter fabrics alike, that happy medium between warm and chilly. Divine! Becky wore her new striped Victorian skirt, Marcella wore her 1912 outfit, and I wore my super-comfy 1990s-does-1910s polka-dot dress. The staff at Lucille’s restaurant was totally unperturbed when we walked in for lunch! Ah, the glory of October when costuming becomes more widely accepted in the everyday!

All-in-all, a good day out with the family! It would have been nice to have more of a crowd, but life is a constantly moving target. Sometimes everyone else’s arrow ends up going a different direction and an event doesn’t pan out. That’s why I am so grateful to have costuming buddies to take to events, so if something like this happens, we can still have a good time together!

—More Edwardian and 1910s Costume Adventures—

An Edwardian Day Out #1: Thistle Hill
Easy (Post) Edwardian / WWI Costume
Easy Edwardian for under $10 (1900-1910)

More Easy Edwardian (1913-1914)

 

 

 

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Exploding Roosters, Cloches, and Nellie Mae: The Best Hats Currently for Sale from Augusta Auctions

This is one of those “fluff” posts I love to write when I find something that just tickles me to death.

Augusta Auctions is a vintage/antique textile seller that always has tons of gorgeous stuff up for grabs. I drool over their gowns all the time! However, in their October 25th catalogue, it wasn’t the gowns that caught my eye, but something else entirely.

This latest sale has a superb selection of super-sassy hats and bonnets!

There are plenty of totally fab-o 1880s and 1890s hats with to-die-for trimmings:

Feast your eyes on all that glorious texture! Mmmmmmm…..

1950s and 1960s class and quirk:

Bill Cunningham hat, 1950s

Bill Cunningham Beach Hat, circa 1960
I’ve fondly dubbed this the “Rooster Explosion” hat. I need it. I have the hat basket to make it…

There are also some low-key-cool 1920s hats (with model heads that seemed a little embarrassed to be listed next to the Rooster Explosion) that would fit right in on the later seasons of Downton Abbey:

Two Cloches, circa 1920
So tight lipped! Grandma’s hat mannequins do not approve!

Going back even further, you’ll find the same bedroom-eyed gals modelling another pair of hats, this time from around 1915:

Pair of Blue velvet hats, circa 1915
Matching your eyeshadow to your hat: yay or nay?

And while all those hats are glorious and some are even grand, they are still not what caught my eye when I was scrolling through the online auction catalogue! It was not the stunning straw weaving or the elegant embroidery or even the Rooster Explosion that spurred me to revive my blog after months of total silence. It wasn’t even the sourpuss Bouvier Sisters display heads that made my day.

It was this face that suddenly flashed onto my screen and into my heart:

BEHOLD! Nellie Mae, the antique wax hat model with No Hecks Left to Give!

This is the orange, waxy visage of a Victorian woman who just cannot process the utter hogwash she just heard and is giving you Ye Olde Internal Eyeroll.

These are the eyes of a woman who has survived everything from face-smothering balloon sleeves to monokinis and greets each fresh fashion faux pas with “That’s…..interesting.”

These are the tired eyes of a Victorian woman watching a modern “historical drama” where everyone is complaining about corsets, there isn’t a hairpin in sight, and NONE of the women are wearing hats, but since she was sculpted without hands, she is cruelly denied the ability to facepalm.

This is the expression every woman wears when she’s seen everything, done everything, and had it up to HERE with all that heckin’ ballyhoo, giving that curt little smile every woman knows is reserved for those times where you have to be polite but, golly you just wanna be left alone/punch someone!

Is she angry? Is she sad? Is she happy? NO! After 100 years, she has transcended the realm of emotion to the blissful plane of blasé ennui.

Nellie Mae is that friend that’s all sweet tea, quiet conversation, and floral arrangements until you push her just a little too hard and BAM! The Southerners can hear the “Bless your precious little heart” that’s waiting just behind those pert little lips.

Nellie Mae: My new Hat Heroine!

I love her so much! She’s got so much personality and, dang, she has great taste in hats! ;)
The rest of the auction catalogue can be viewed here (there’s a pair of 1920s marabou robes that you simply MUST see!).

 

Bustling Through Boston: Searching for Mme Chesneau’s Dressmaking Shop

Last time I fell down an enormous rabbit hole, it was while researching this 1840s men’s neck stock from Philidelphia:

Click here to fall into that hole yourself.

I was not only about to find out where the stock was made, but all about the man who manufactured it! Through careful study, I was able to even narrow down the age of the stock to within 4 years– just based on the manufacturer’s stamp inside!

Anyway, this time around I have fallen down the rabbit hole with this skirt:

Isn’t the gold lovely? And that lace! The waist is bitty bitty: only 20 inches.

Some pretty little details to this deceptively simple skirt like floral lace overlay and tiny little knife pleats.

Unlike the stock (which I found in my favorite antique store and now own), this skirt is not mine, but an auction item on eBay waaaaaay out of my price range. I was just going to post a short little Facebook blurb about it because it’s so dang pretty, but then I looked closer at the pictures and found this:

Yes indeed! This skirt has a marker’s mark!

Fortunately, Boston is an old town, so there are plenty of maps available. Unfortunately, I didn’t find Mme Chesneau’s little shop deftly labelled as I was able to do for Mr. Ward. However! Her shop was in the heart of Boston– right off the Commons! The block she was located on is still relatively intact thanks to the presence of the Granary Burial Ground right behind it.

6 Beacon Street circa 2017

Today, the address belongs to a late Victorian building with a mix of offices, condos, and businesses inside. Here’s a realtor’s ad for the building (it’s a PDF, so it will download for you to open), if you are curious about the current interior. Sadly, very little, if any, of the original Victorian finishes appear to remain beyond the outside shell, but the street layout and numbers have not changed much at all (unlike poor Mr. Ward’s store locations which were both obliterated in the 1950s when Independence Mall was constructed). Mme Chesneau would also have been just up the block from the historical Tremont House when she owned her shop there in the late 1870s or early 1880s (judging by the style of the skirt). The Tremont House was a grand hotel built in 1829 and famous for being one of the first “modern” hotels with indoor plumbing, bellboys, and guest soaps:

I’m sure guests made off with all the free soaps just like they do today…and that’s a good thing!

Sadly, the Tremont House was razed in 1895 and the office buildings that now fill the block around the old burial ground went up in its place.

I didn’t delve as much in-depth with this skirt as I did with the neckstock, but here are some nifty maps from the 19th and early 20th century showing how much (and how little) the area where Mme Chesneau would have worked has changed:

This view is from decades before the skirt was made, but it shows you how little the streets of Boston in this area have changed! This is the view of 6 Beacon street from the Boston Commons. The spire belongs to Park Church and the trees behind it are the Granary Burial Ground. It’s hard to tell which side of the street the other buildings are on, but one of them to the left in the background would house 6 Beacon Street. The domed building to the far left is the Massachusetts State House, built in 1798.

The view of 6 Beacon Street from 1877–near the time the skirt was made! You can see the big dome of the Massachusetts State House in the foreground with the spire of Park Street Church right behind it. 6 Beacon Street would have been in or near the tan building to the left of the church.

This view of 6 Beacon street was made at almost exactly the same time as our golden bustle skirt: 1879. This view shows the dark outlines of some buildings, but it’s not a very detailed map. There are, however, 2 dark buildings at the corner where Somerset Street meets with Beacon Street at the turn. 6 Beacon Street would be located in one of these.

This 1885 map is a bit more detailed. In the center you can see the label for the Burial Ground in big letters to the right of the commons. If you look closely, you can see the label for the Tremont House (Tremont H.) to the right. 6 Beacon Street is in the white space just above it (on this map, white space doesn’t necessary indicate an empty lot, but just means there was nothing of importance to the cartographer).

Check out this nifty map from 1894: it shows the subway routes! In the 1890s, Boston began to change very rapidly. This is the year Boston’s first modern hotel was no longer modern enough for the growing city and shut down. The map still labels the plot “Tremont Building,”, but the outline looks much more like the office building the replaced it a year later…

Sad day! The Tremont House is no more on this 1895 map, but the giant Victorian office building that stands in its place today is still there. 6 Beacon Street is right on the other side of the little street leading to the Granary Burial Ground, Tremont Place. The building is labelled as being owned by WJ Otis.

One last glimpse of 19th century Boston and 6 Beacon Street. The building numbered 14 is the office complex that replaced the Tremont House 4 years earlier. Behind it is where 6 Beacon Street would be. I do not know if Mme Chesneau was still in Boston, but it is very likely that the building she sewed the skirt in was long gone by this time (I tried to look up the age of the current building there, but short of diving into tax records, I could not find it).

I could probably look Mme Chesneau up in Boston’s tax and business registration records, but I never thought I’d get so involved with an eBay skirt I could never hope to own! So unless I find a random pile of money to buy the skirt, I’m going to stop obsessing over something I cannot have for now.

However, the story of the skirt does not end with my trunicated quest or Mme Chesneau, the woman that made it. Someone bought and wore this skirt… but who? The seller themselves has a little theory about the owner of the skirt to add to the mix, making this skirt a nifty little diversion for a historical fashion, genealogy  and georeference fans alike:

We found 2 names associated with these clothes [there are other clothes available for auction from this seller]. A Miss D Hurd in a C 1915 dress and a calling card with a Mr and Mrs Ledyard Hart Heckscher. The older 1880s dresses may have belonged to Mrs Heckscher because their names are on a calling card with a note that states ” Fil de Main” Handkerchief sent to your grandmother Heckscher in 1869.”  The calling card looks of the late Victorian period. They may have been from Philadelphia or Boston / New York.”

A dress from a later generation, around 1912, from the seller’s other listings. If these are from a single family, you can tell the love of lustrous satin with netted lace overlay was passed down through the years!

This is what makes historical costume research so fun for me: the human element that leads you on a journey away from the seams and into the streets!

“Looking up Tremont Street toward Beacon Street, with the Granary Burying Ground to the left, taken around 1910. Photo courtesy of Boston Public Library.” – via Lost New England

Call the Fashion Police! I’m Wearing an Illegal Hatpin!

To keep my hats jaunty but secure at Edwardian events, I use one of my antique, pre-ban hatpins. Pre-ban? What’s that? Well, as silly as it may sound to us, in the 1910s, cities around the globe passed laws outlawing certain sizes of hatpins! Why would governments and police departments waste valuable time outlawing fashion accessories?
Until about 1970, hats were a major part of a woman’s wardrobe. They have varied in size, material, and decor, but one of the primary problems with hats is that, if caught by a gust of wind, it can easily escape from you! Ladies have employed a variety of methods to avert this: making the hat deep enough that it sit snugly on the head or using ribbons to tie them down, wire loops that grasp your head (many 1950s hats use this method), or clips and combs that grab onto your hair. One of the most popular antique methods we no longer use was the hatpin. Hatpins hold your hat on securely by attaching your hat to your hairstyle. That way, as long as your bun is secure, your hat can’t fall off or blow away in the wind! It also helps perch the hat high on your head so it’s not smashing your hairdo or hiding your face. To wear one, you position your hat as desired, thrust the pin through one side of the crown, carefully sliding it under a portion of your hair, and then pushing the pin back out the other side of the hat.

Sort of like this…
The closer yo can get the pin to your scalp, the better. But watch out! You don’t want to jab yourself!

Hatpins  started out as wimple pins used to hold women’s veils in place as far back as Roman times. Those pins were fairly small. However, as women’s headwear changed, so did the pins. It was during the late 18th century– when outrageous large hats perched on outrageously large hairdos–that hatpins first began to appear. Hatpins didn’t truly become common until the mid-to-late 19th century when hats overtook bonnets as the most fashionable form of headwear. A hatpin became an indispensable part of a well-dressed woman’s wardrobe. Victorian hats were fairly small for the most part, but as the turn of the century drew near, the hats grew larger and more elaborate…not unlike the giant hats of 100 years earlier.

Mary Boteler by John Hoppner, 1786

Publicity photo of performer Rhonda Ray, circa 1903-1907

Les Modes Hats, circa 1907

Hats and hairstyles in the Edwardian era were enormous, requiring equally enormous hatpins– often so long and sharp that they could not only jab you, but anyone that got too close to you. Indeed, at over a foot long and made of rigid steel, an Edwardian hatpin makes a formidable weapon! There are even poems, books, and songs written about women defending themselves with hatpins! Mugger trying to get your purse? STAB ‘EM! Pervert “mashing” (harassing) you on the train? EN GARDE!

Poke me, eh? I’LL POKE YOU!

Newspapers published many stories about women defending themselves with their hatpins– including in Chicago, one of the first cities to institute  hatpin laws. In 1902 the Chicago Tribune published an article about Jaunite Bonneau– one of the first female couriers for Western Union– defending herself with “Fists and Hatpin” against a group of young male attackers– and being completely blamed for hurting the lads that attacked her.

You can find even more Chicago Tribune articles about hatpins being used as weapons in their searchable archives. Most have a rather negative view of hatpins and the women wielding them, but there are a few articles that mention their use in a more positive light, including this 1898 blurb about Barbara Stack who “routed street car robbers with a hatpin” or this 1907 horror story about a woman defending herself from a kidnapping rapist.

The uniquely feminine weapon did not sit too well with men used to submissive ladies, so beginning in 1908, they began passing laws limiting the length of hatpins, usually to no more than 7-9 inches. Other cities passed regulations requiring safety caps for hatpins rather than outright banning longer ones. This seemed like a much more practical approach to the problem of accidental stabbings– a naked pin point sticking out of a hat could accidentally injure people around you– though requiring a cap rendered the pin much harder to use for self-defense, too. Other cities allowed longer, uncapped pins, but they could stick out no more than 1/2″ or you could face a hefty fine— including paying reparations:

From the Boston Sacred Heart Review April 12, 1913.
It is probably not a coincidence that the notice about outlawing hatpins as weapons appears just below an article about militant suffragettes in England.

Male lawmakers weren’t just making idle threats, either. Women vehemently opposed the laws and some ladies were even arrested for wearing long or uncapped pins in their hats, especially suffragettes. Yes, policemen would actually stop women to inspect their hats for illegal hatpins. For example, here’s a clip from a newspaper article about arresting women with long hatpins. At a fierce 13 inches long, my hatpin could have landed me in the slammer if I wore it without a permit after 1908!

Pre-ban Hatpin on the left, 13″ long circa 1900
“Legal” hatpin on the right, 7″ long circa 1890-1915
Somewhat ironically, the shorter hatpin is sharper. You could definitely still defend yourself easily with it!

Hatpins do require extra attention in order to wear them safely. Truth be told, a properly worn hatpin should not be noticeable at all when worn. It should hide amid your hat trimmings, showing only the bejeweled end if it has one. The sharp end shouldn’t not stick out more than an inch (unless it also has a decorative cap as some 1910-1950 hatpins do).  If you are like me and have a hatpin a bit too long for your hat, you must be very careful when giving hugs or taking selfies with friends, not to mention being careful not to stab yourself! However,  hatpins are incredibly important if you want to wear historical hats properly…or defeat hooligans.

Post-ban newspaper articles take a decidedly dark view of women using hatpins. Many reference the violent protests of women’s rights activists as proof that women could not be trusted with sharp objects, no matter how prettily decorated:

Whether the hatpin ban made women adopt smaller hats or whether the natural flow of fashion made the edicts obsolete, it’s hard to say, but as the 1910s progressed, hats changed to sit lower on the head and slowly shrunk in scale. By 1920, a decade after the hatpin laws passed, women had adopted shorter hair, shorter skirts, and close-fitting cloches that didn’t need hatpins at all. American women also got the vote so we could fight to wear what we want!

A fight for fashion is a fight for freedom!

I actually don’t know when–or even if!– places like Chicago, New Orleans, and Melbourne repealed their hatpin bans…for all I know, it’s one of those weird laws left on the books after all these years and I’m technically a criminal in some municipalities!

COME AND GET ME, FASHION POLICE!

Easy Edwardian Day Out – Thistle Hill House Tour with the DFWCG

Family, Friends, and Fashion!

My birthday was this past week, so when the DFW Costumers Guild scheduled Edwardian Day Out that weekend, of course I had to go! We visited Thistle Hill, a stately old house from 1904. It’s surrounded by hospitals and parking garages. Thank goodness they saved this old house from becoming another concrete car park!

Thistle Hill is a little patch of green in the middle of the medical district.
I’ve always been slightly confounded by urban Texas. On the one hand, Texans are fiercely proud of their history, particularly their 19th century pioneer heritage. On the other hand, they are capitalist to a fault and if a plot of land is worth more as parking lot than a historic house….hello new parking lot! Not many 19th century buildings are left and many that remain are in terrible disrepair. Dallas has lost the vast majority of its pre-1930 historical architecture. Fort Worth still has some of its older neighborhoods and storefronts, but many folks drive a few hours to surrounding towns like Waxahachie just to see Victorian houses! Thank goodness for for places like HFW and Dallas Heritage Village which have helped preserve historical architecture in the Metroplex.

I was going to wear my green version of Butterick 6093 again, but the week before, I found a lavender bridesmaid skirt at Goodwill that was freakishly similar to the one Becky owns!

In addition, I have a giant green tub full of *literal pounds* of Easy Edwardian stuff I’ve hoarded over the years, so I dug it out and settled on a modern cotton blouse with a fussy ruffle down the front and a vintage burgundy leather belt.

LITERAL POUNDS.

Turns out my giant tub of stuff would come in handy again: we invited Becky’s mother, Marcella, to come along for her first costumed outing. She found a lacy maxi skirt and needed a blouse and hat to go with it– and the Tub provided!

Marcella’s fabulous first historical costume. She made her coordinating drawstring purse herself!

Now, I won’t say definitively that I endorse costume hoarding, but by golly does having a variety of costuming pieces in a range of styles and sizes come in handy! It’s great for helping new-to-the-hobby friends or pulling together a last-minute outfit when nothing you’ve made fits or suits your fancy.

Time to check the Green Tub, girl! The Green Tub’s got you covered!

After being wadded up in the tub for months, my blouse needed a good pressing. To turn a modern collared blouse into a more Edwardian-esque shirtwaist, simply iron the collar flat to remove the fold. This will make it stand up like the high-collars of yesteryear! You can wrap the collar wings over each other and hide the wrap with a jabot or brooch, or do as I prefer and just fold the front tips back.

Thanks to the Tub, there was no last minute event sewing needed! It was nice to spend 2 hours planning and pressing an outfit rather than 2 days or 2 weeks frantically sewing. The most time consuming part– aside from doing my hair– was trimming my hat. Okay, so I guess that counts as sewing because I had to tack town the trimming…but it only took about 20 minutes!

This particular hat has been in my collection for years, but this is the first time I’ve had an outfit to wear it with. I originally purchased it from Dilliard’s. Usually their hats are SUPER SPENDY, but if you go at the right time, like a post-Easter sale, they mark down their hats a ton– I got this one at 80% off! However, it is still the most expensive hat I’ve ever purchased for myself. The fluffy puffball is the original decor. It’s not really Edwardian looking by itself, but the vintage brooch from my 1890s hat helped tame the goofy poof somewhat.

My belt and shoes were a purple-tinged maroon, so to *tie* the hat in with the outfit, I decorated it with a sliced-n-diced neck*tie* of a similar shade:

Ha ha! Puns.
Thrift store neckties are great for decorating hats. They’re another one of those costume bits that I hoard…

The tour itself was a bit expensive ($20) and felt rushed. The house is a popular event space for dinners and weddings, so there were tables and chairs out everywhere and the staff was preoccupied with clearing the space after a dinner the previous day. However, the house is lovely and the ticket allows you to tour another local historical home, too. The biggest surprise was that the ticket is also valid for a full year! So we can go back again as many times as we like! I think there are a few more Edwardian events in our future.

Check out the full Flickr Album here: Edwardian Day Out

And check out the DFW Costumers Guild website for more info about the group and future events!

 

 

Do My Eyes Deceive Me or Do Things Look a Little Different?

I’ve updated the blog, as you can see!

Many of you like to read on mobile and had reported that the Treba theme (the old blog’s background and layout) was sometimes hard to read on mobile thanks to the small font size and links. So I’m trying out something new for you: the Penscratch 2 theme!

old treba style blog theme

Old “Treba” Theme

New “Penscratch 2” Theme

The font is larger, as are the pictures and links; plus, there is a new header menu with quick links to the “About” and other pages! Hopefully this will make navigating easier for everyone. :)

Let me know what you think:

Find of the Month: Victorian Quilt Blocks (Part 1)

April 2017

Once again, I found April’s FotM at Maine Barn and Attic Antiques! Seriously….I may have an addiction….

This month’s find is small, not exactly in size, but certainly in price: $8.

 I actually did the official “finding” the very first time I went, but the antique shop only takes cash or check, so when it comes time to decide what to buy and what to leave, I always left these in favor of other treasures. Do you ever leave something behind only to have that nagging feeling of remorse that you can’t shake hours or even weeks later? Boy did this month’s “find” haunt me when I left them behind, languishing in a dusty basket ion the floor in the darkest shop corner all those months ago.

Who knew quilt blocks could nag?!

Yes, I bought a bunch of 19th century quilt squares even though I don’t quilt. Why? Well, I like the bright, happy, wild fabrics– and these are bright like new! Most look like they date to the 1840s-1860s to me, but I am not a calico expert, so any help dating them is welcome.

I made a slide show below of each one, front and back so you can see all of them. There are some great patterns!

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There are also some interesting highlights, including…

An apparently fugitive dye:

This block has three squares of this same fabric. One has all the stripes left, this one is fading, and one has no stripes at all left, just the flowers!

Awesome hand sewing:

All of the blocks are handsewn together. They have tiny seam allowances and use a mix of thread colors, but mostly red.

Lots of creative piecing:

I know quilts are literally pieced, but this quilt is like quilt-ception: it’s got pieced pieces in it’s pieces. This is the most pieced piece of the lot: this little 2X2 square is made up of 4 seperate pieces!

Evidence of a mishap that occurred during a previous incarnation:

One of my favorite fabrics is the “alien flower on a book” print. It is the most stained however, but when I was looking at it, the stains are only on the white fabric, not the surrounding fabrics! So the fabric was stained before it was added to the quilt. I wonder if it was part of a ill-fated dress…and what it’s stained with…

As it turns out, this wasn’t going to be the last brush with quilt blocks I’d have this month. Stay tuned for more!
(If you’re a bit fabric-crazy like me)

Other Find of the Month posts you might like:

Find of the Month: English Silver-Gilt Button

Find of the Month: Stuart Crystal Breeches Button