Last week’s post on being held hostage by my scraps and my brave deed of consigning some of them to the dark inners of a draft excluder generated lovely comments from you, dear readers, and got me thinking some more about scraps. I did not confess that I had saved the small slivers when squaring off the blocks for the blue scrap quilt. I then converted them into thread fabric. The following photograph is dedicated to you, Laura.
Confession number two: I collect threads in bowls — one beside my hand stitching couch and one beside my machine — and have converted some of them into thread fabric. Here’s the photographic evidence:
It has struck me that these threads contain the history or traces of the projects I was working on. I have plans to continue turning the contents of the thread-holding bowls into bits of fabric and to collate them into a book.
Then I also collect really special bits in bottles — one for shiny fabrics, one for bright cotton bits and yet another one for threads and cords.
Since last writing I have made another draft excluder and in the process of stuffing them both I did rescue some exceptional scraps. Here they are:
It has struck me that the word “scrap” has mostly negative connotations. Off the top of my head: to scrap is to fight; to be given scraps is to be given the dregs of the meal; to produce a scrappy piece of work is to show lack of care and effort. Of course I had to consult my trusted OED and was reminded that the word can also refer to a waif. The dictionary confirms that the word is usually used “in negative contexts”and refers to “useless remnants”. Ha! I beg to disagree.
Finally, in preparation for the class on Kantha stitching that I will be doing at the National Quilt Festival, I unearthed a bag of silk scraps that was kindly given to me a while ago. Just look at this treasure trove! (most certainly not useless remnants).