How a Family Tradition Ignited My Lifelong Passion for Antique Textiles

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As soon as I learned to walk, my grandmother had a sewing needle in my hand. In her opinion, keeping my hands busy with tiny stitches was a better alternative to making mud pies in the backyard or pulling petals from her prized roses—situations I often found myself in during the summers spent in Sheffield, Alabama. My grandmother had been a sharecropper growing up, spending her evenings sewing with her sister. They did it partly to pass the time, but most importantly to make the quilts and clothes they could not afford to buy otherwise.

Spending weeks in this small southern town with nothing to do became something I looked forward to in the summer. In August, the hot summer sun made it too hot to play outside, so there was nothing better to do than sit in the air conditioning and make something of my own.

My grandmother had a collection of small bits of fabric stashed around the house ready for when just the right piece was needed for my craft projects or her intricate quilts. Nothing was wasted. Everything was used and had a purpose. As I grew older and continued to sew, I also kept fabric scraps ready at hand. Thank goodness my parents were patient enough to keep boxes and boxes of old fabric from thrift stores in their basement.

A whole world opened up to me after learning how to actually design and make textiles in college. While I still loved the everyday quilts and embroidered hankies, I honed a love for ikats and pre-Industrial Revolution textiles only made with natural dyes like indigo. Ancient goldwork and antique Flemish tapestries enthralled me. These were made by people like me, my tribe—the stories of their hands enduring decades or centuries.

These days the flea market is my museum wherever I travel, unearthing the rips and tears of textiles loved and used every day. My favorite piece however is not from a trip to Jaffa or Paris, but something my grandmother gave me not long before she died. She handed it to me, confessing she believed I was the only person in the world who could love it.

She was right about that—my mom almost threw it away once not realizing its significance. It's an old quilt she made in her younger years, with spots ripped to shreds and telltale rust stains flowering along the grain sack backing.

Peaking through the layers of bedraggled batting and thin cotton is another quilt made of tiny pieced pinwheels, tattered beyond recognition in some areas. My grandmother had used a quilt her own mom had sewn as batting because even though it was no longer useful, she couldn't bear to lose that piece of her mother.

I keep it in a chest, pulling it out every now and again wondering if I'm worthy of it yet. To add my own hidden story in its interwoven threads. Perhaps a few more years yet.

It's hard to display a collection of textiles in a cabinet or on a mantel. Sure you can frame them, but they are meant to be lived with and used. Hang them, spread them across a bed, or make something new of them. Below are some of my favorite online sources for finding the most unique antique textiles.