This photo of Mola cheater cloth was taken by Linda Lane Thornton in Colon (with an accent on the second “o”), Panama. She reports having enjoyed my article in The Quilter, about the topic of cheater cloth, in the March edition. We always love to receive updates from readers, and thought this one to be particularly interesting. As Linda says … this kind of cloth could save time!
Patricia L. Cummings
Gleefully, I purchased a very small piece of 1870s cheater cloth, recently. It was stuffed into a too small plastic baggie, and it was full of wrinkles. Being that old, the cloth also felt very dessicated. I wanted to press out the wrinkles, but thought it might be helpful to add some plain water to the cloth first, by spritzing it on with a house plant sprayer.
All was well, or so I thought, until I moved the fabric to reposition it on the ironing board. It was then that I noticed red color all over my new ironing board cover. I’d splurged last summer and bought a wide ironing board that is more square and a lot better for pressing backings for quilts.
I realized what had happened. The red in the print was not the “Turkey Red” colorfast color that we love in nineteenth century quilts. Instead, it was some other cheap dye. I should have known better. In fact, I do know better. I just wasn’t thinking. I wish that I’d at least put paper towels under the cloth, to help protect the ironing board cover.
I still love this piece of cloth because it represents a certain time period. The dyes were cheap in the 1870s, partly because the country was experiencing an economic downturn. I think the color combination is cheerful and the design is interesting. What you see above represents only a portion of the piece I have. Ever since my article about Cheater Cloth came out in The Quilter magazine, I am beginning to see it mentioned in lots of places. Before now, it has been like a step child, often overlooked. I’m happy that I could help to raise awareness because I think that this kind of imitation patchwork has its place.
Have a good Friday!
Patricia Cummings
Old aprons today catch our fancy. They speak of bygone times when it was a hardship to do laundry and when good dresses were kept clean for best. Of course, in those days, women did wear dresses, not pantsuits, jeans, or a blouses and slacks. The amount of time and effort put into making a pretty apron is sometimes mind boggling. For me, the whole subject of aprons will require more study. Last summer, I washed and pressed 80 old aprons, so I guess you could say that I’ve seen them up close and personal. Here is one of them.
Notice the triadic color combination of red, yellow, and blue in the cheerful-looking apron seen above. Unlike old quilts that sometimes have tags on them, more often than not, former owners of aprons are not identified. Look at the fancy edge lace, the gathered waist, and the long ties.
I know of one person who asked for her grandmother’s aprons and then cut out the good spots to make a quilt. That is certainly one way to remember grandma.
Since they are used less today, aprons from the past take on more significance, pointing to a time of more domesticity when supper was not at a fast food chain or other eatery, but homemade and served hot on the kitchen table. I love old aprons whether they are appliquéd, have pockets, are smocked, are over the shoulder kinds, or are the old fancy and delicate pinafores. To me, they are important “pieces of the past.”
Patricia Cummings
Recently, I was in the mood to buy some reproduction fabrics. I was specifically looking for fabrics that would have been made at about the time my home was built, in 1821.
I was absolutely delighted to see that on the selvages of fabric, manufacturers are now stating when the fabric was first made. The dates of what I bought actually ranged from about 1835-1875. I may not use them in the same quilt, but it’s nice to have them.
With early (reproduction) fabrics, I notice a tendency toward madder prints. The madder root traditionally yielded various colors, depending on the mordant used.
There is something fascinating and charming about old fabrics. I can’t get enough of them. One of the reasons I like seeing more information printed on the edge is that if the strip is saved, along with a swatch of fabric, it will be easier for quilt historians to identify the pieces and match them with an exact date, in the future.
Some people have various ways of saving selvages, including sewing them into a quilt of their own. Others glue swatches into notebooks, particularly books with acid-free paper.
I have not cut into a piece of the fabric yet. I have all the fat quarters rinsed, pressed, and ready to go. Don’t tempt me. I may have to “pet” the fabric a little longer. After all, isn’t that what any self-respecting quilter does?
Patricia Cummings
