Yesterday I was at an antiques fair drooling, as is my wont, over piles of vintage and antique linen. Some of pieces I saw left me speechless… I stared in awe at patterns and stitches, trying to imagine what these women’s worries and thoughts would be. It strikes me time and again just how much time and effort used to be invested in a crocheted bedspread, a table runner, even in a moderately sized doily.
Those times and those crocheters are long gone.The aesthetics of their work is alien to us, the frame of mind and work ethics enabling such feats of endurance are beyond our grasp. With our busy – and far more fulfilling – lives we barely have time to whip up a hat or a pair of mitts, to experience a short-lived high of handling a ball of yarn, an exquisitely turned wooden hook, of watching a flower grow in our hands out of thing air and a strand of fibre.
Yet whatever we do is built on these unknown women’s heritage. We still use the same patterns and stitches, applying them to modern funky designs, translating them into new aesthetics, adjusting them to fit our busy lifestyles.
I’m not in the least nostalgic, but I’m infinitely grateful.
Everything is as it should be.
quantumcrochet 