Patchwork pieces

 My daughter has been sorting some of her boxes and came across a few hexagons that were going nowhere, and said I should have them, since I have dived into patches as an armchair occupation.

 Oh my goodness there is one of THAT print. A piece of fabric that I found in Billingshurst, in about 1980. It made a nightie for me, which I was wearing when I had the third baby, and a rather sweet little blouse for the first.

 The reason I leapt on the fabric is because I had seen it before. This dates from 1960, when my Mother made me a beautifully cut dress and bolero to wear to a wedding. She used a Vogue pattern; the skirt was beautifully cut, I loved it dearly, and then something cropped up and we were unable to go to the wedding. Sadly, it was late summer, and I was about to do my main growing spurt over the winter, and by the follwing spring it was impossible to get the zip done up. So it never got worn properly. But there was a certain amount left and it found it's way into my Mother's patchwork, which is a total memory box.

 This was another dress that I loved - one of the many cut-out-ready-to-sew offers from Woman magazine that my Mum did. This dress had a broad boat neck with a collar front and back, and it was the first time we had encountered iron-on interfacing, I can remember hanging over the ironing cloth while she bonded it. It was a woven fabric, and looked as though it had been sprinkled with caster sugar. I found that magic.

This from about the same age - ten-ish. A gathered skirt - nothing fancy, but I was horse mad and forever grateful for being allowed to have that print. I was quite a rarity in those days, in that my Mother allowed me a lot of say in what I had to wear. She like to allow me choice of fabrics, from an edited selection, and always consulted me on the detail of each garment. Most girls my age just had to do with whatever was chosen for them - a lot of it was pretty poor quality too, as so much ready made stuff was.

 I was allowed to choose this fabric myself at about eight or nine. I can still remember being in "West End" - one of the drapers in Penzance, and having the bolts of cloth laid on the counter so we could feel and see them close up. The dress was simple, button front bodice, with a sweetheart neckline, gathered skirt, with patch pockets, which had keyhole openings, edged with blue rick-rack braid.  When I grew up, I wanted to work in that shop, so I could snip the selvedge, and tear it across. Then I could put the invoice and the money into the wooden barrel, attach it to the top thingy and pull the handle to make it whizz across to the cashier in her little cabin in the middle. The only thing was I didn't want to be wearing a black skirt and cardigan all the time.

 This one and the next go back further. Nighties, both of them, and both rayon by the feel of them. Mum and I could never ever decide whther the spots on this one were brown or purple. I am still not sure.

 I think this is the one I was wearing when I had measles, and remarked to Mum " If I am sick again, I won't have any more clean vests, will I?" That puts it at before I was five, since the measles were over before I started school.

 Mum used to get a little catalogue every spring, for "Miss Muffet" prints. This and the next one were from the same year - it was always the same - let down last year's dresses for rough wear, and have two new one for being polite.

I was never very happy with the green basketwork print, but I dearly loved this one.

This one has a sad ending. It was a snippet given by my Mother's dear friend, who died much too young. She was a lovely lady - a keen birdwatcher, an enthusiastic gardener, and a craftswoman. Now and then she would borrow one of my cut-out paper dolls, get out her watercolours and some nice cartridge paper, and make a collection of new dresses! Just to please me!