Blasting Off for the Past

I really wore this?

The other day, I switched the summer clothes in my closet for the winter clothes in the attic.  Out with the cotton gauze, in with the corduroy; out with the shorts, in with the fleece.

While in the attic, I was also scouting out possible storage spots for the plethora of quilted wall hangings now gracing my dining room table.  They can't stay in the dining room indefinitely.  So, what about this little dresser?  Could I use that for storing some of my quilts?

I opened it up to see how much space was available.

And look what I found:

This is my college gym suit, circa 1967--1971.  Do students even wear gym suits any more?  Or bloomers, like the one that came with this gym suit? The label said "Wright & Ditson--No Iron, Wash and Wear."  Wright & Ditson--I looked it up--is still operating in Buffalo Grove, Illinois.  Bet there aren't a lot of buffalos left in that grove.  How did my gym suit end up in this almost-empty dresser?  And what am I going to do with it?  Do you think the Smithsonian would want it?

Next to the gym suit, in the same drawer, was this stained and saggy item:

I did date a few Yalies when I was in college, particularly one Joseph Rubin, of Silliman College, whom I married in 1974, and with whom I conceived three daughters, one of whom also went to Yale.  Wow.  I'm afraid to find out whether I can even still fit into this thing.  Much less the gym suit.

 In the next drawer, another blast from the past:  the first two scarves I ever knitted:

The acrylic wonder on the left has more pills than a pharmacy.  I learned the hard way that if you make a scarf too long it curls in on itself like a big tube.  Sometimes I think that the hard way is the only way I ever learn anything.  The scarf on the right--now, that was a marvel, because I knitted it in seed stitch, which was a tremendous step forward for me at the time.  My college roommate, Rosalie, who taught me the stitch, was knitting one for her boyfriend Patrick at the same time I was knitting this. At one point Rosalie found a mistake and unraveled at least a foot of her scarf.  I admired her sense of perfection, especially since Patrick wouldn't have noticed the mistake.  Mine has a few mistakes, which I left in.

Meanwhile, downstairs in my sewing area, I started catching up on some housewarming presents for friends and family, and that project was another blast from the past, as I fell back on the geometric simplicity of traditional log-cabin piecing.

These potholders and hot pad are for my middle daughter, Leah, who recently moved into a new apartment in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, and who, now that she's found she's gluten-intolerant, will be doing a lot of her own cooking.

 

   

These are for my almost-daughter, Meg, who recently moved with her family to a fairy tale Craftsman-style house in Guilford, CT.  Meg loves the provencal combination of blue and yellow, and I know these will look great in her kitchen.

This pillow cover is for my oldest daughter, Julia, who recently moved to a new apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn.  She asked for pillows that would coordinate with the mosaic-tiled frame of the mirror over her fireplace.  This pillow cover is one of two, and a great stash-buster:  everything in it came from my stash, including the cording which I covered to make the welting around the edge. 

As I made these, it sure felt good to get back to some of my old techniques...as opposed to the sometimes-scary art quilting that occupies most of my time right now.  When the second of these two pillow covers is done, it'll be back to the scary and unknown.  Meanwhile, I'm having a blast in the past.