Cheers for a Gloomy Day

Summer sure is not going out in a blaze of glory around here. It's cool out, typical to season, but cloudy and rainy. Gloomy. With the dreadfully hot summer we endured, we weren't really treated to beautifully-blooming gardens bursting with color or lush green grass. Now, with Fall making its entrance tomorrow, I feel like I am missing flowers... Missing the Summer that lives in everyone's mind... perhaps a reminiscence of childhood... of riding bikes, playing in the sprinkler, watching mothers in the garden... Of being just plain outside, with nature, allowing ourselves to simply breathe and be. Enjoying beauty on the most primitive and fundamental scale. Nature. Creating memories, not aware of it at the time, but fleeting instances which would be recalled in adulthood.

Today, to brighten myself up, I bring out some photos of Summer - and of the blossoms and general beauty I did see... These photographs were taken at the Olbrich Botanical Gardens in Madison, Wisconsin. As you can see, lushness and the vibrancy of life abound. (I'd hate to know what their water bill was this summer!) They have multiple themed gardens (rose, perennial, herbal... you get the idea) and a spectacular Thai Pavilion, from Thailand itself as a gift to the city. It is the only such pavilion in the United States and one of only four pavilions in the world outside of Thailand - indeed a very special piece of architecture. The gardens are fastidiously maintained and are extremely well done. In fact, Olbrich Gardens is rated by Horticulture magazine as one of the top 10 most inspiring gardens in North America. Well worth a trip. Visit their website here. I could go into detail about the pavillion as there is quite a bit of interesting history to it, but it can best be read on Olbrich's site here.

So farewell Summer, Bonjour Autumn. May you bring beauty into our lives.

Oh, and by the way, aside from cropping, my photographs are not Photoshopped in any way. Although it is a common and accepted practice for many, I am against it in that I prefer to have my work be the result of my own efforts and not a computer program's. With Photoshop and other programs, anyone can be a star photographer. I'll leave the false perfection to those who feel it is needed and strive to achieve perfection on my own... always a work in progress.

Enjoy the beauty... Cheers!

This is a multi-colored pepper plant... Count the colors!
Yes, that's all one plant, I promise.



The Thai Pavilion



Light streaming through large, delicate ferns



Butterfly resting on milkweed



Swallowtail on butterfly bush



Awesome orange zinnia



Let's go to the circus... this dahlia looks like the big top!



Did this dragonfly's wings get dipped into gold?



Waterlily

Water captured in the middle of a bromeliad



A tiny lavender blossom breaks the surface of this reflection inside
the pool of water caught in this bromeliad



Light streaming through gigantic tropical leaf...
Notice the swirling design within the veining...

 



Sunlight hitting the water lilies




Not sure about the name of this flower... I just could not pass up
its color and shape. Truly exotic and wonderful!

 

Summer's Last Rummaging Finds

Morning finds..... some real beauties!

 Autumn is two days away, and this morning the weather was positively perfect for a nice morning of rummaging. Sporting my comfy Coach tennies and cozy Burberry cashmere scarf bunched around my neck, I was ready to enjoy the crisp morning air. I realize this is not the best choice of attire when rummaging as I can't get the sympathy "pathetic look" discount, but too bad - I like to look stylish and put together when I'm out and about. Who cares if I don't get the $2 off I otherwise would if I were to appear in sweats and a tee? There is something called pride in life.....

This morning featured a multi-family sale at 5 houses... all within walking distance of each other which was nice. I arrived a shade after 9 and the streets were lined with cars. How, you ask, since the sales were advertised to begin at 9? Answer: early birds! I found a parking spot, hopped out of my car and started in, still having hope that not all the fab finds would have been already snapped up... I may not have been a true early bird but I picked up beautiful things.... some pretty romantic and shabby chic finds: two Cabin Crafts chenille bedspreads, an antique silk pouch, some icy-blue glitter mini Christmas trees, marble and quartz hardstone eggs, a great vintage wire bicycle basket... 

 

Enjoy the pics.


Orange and coral-toned morning glory printed vintage tablecloth
and turquoise coffee tin showing people picking the beans. Neat!

Antique silk pouch with metallic boullion snaps opens to reveal a
pretty pink quilted silk lining

Pair of Cabin Crafts 1950s chenille bedspreads with flowers and pretty blue bows

Amazing old handmade, handcarved box with foliate ornamentation
and Asian hardware

Ice blue glittery Christmas trees tucked into a
handmade white porcelain planter

Whose move? Marble and hardstone eggs battle
the Christmas trees. Who will win this holiday game?

 

 

 



 

The Mayhem of Marghab II

Set of Marghab Knight cocktail napkins

Yesterday I admitted I am a linen nut. And when I see Marghab linens "out and about" priced ridiculously low, I get a little crazy. I will do anything, regardless of how pathetic or ridiculous I look, to make sure they leave with me lest physically steal them from another's pile/cart (which I have had happen to me multiple times at estate sales).

A few weeks ago I went to a huge antique/vintage textile and linen sale. Huge. Aisles and racks of vintage and antique linens of all kinds. Quilts, wool blankets, every type of table and bed linen, old tribal kilim face bags - everything. And all heaped upon each other with no real organization. It was every woman for her own. The sale began at 9 am; I arrived at 9:45 and was thinking that "all the good stuff" was probably already snatched up by the dealers who had been waiting in line to get in at 9.


Various Marghab patterns, clockwise from top left: Mallard,
Knight, Jacaranda Tree, Topiary, Greek Key, Sweet Pea 

So to make a long story short, there were, on the bottom rack of one of the aisle shelves, little bins where sets of napkins, etc... had been put into plastic bags and priced so that they would not get separated in the shuffle. There were four of these bins. I made a cursory dig looking for the low hanging fruit my first time around but didn't want to waste too much time rifling through these little bins when treasures could still be lurking elsewhere.

I eventually made my way back to the bins to do a little more in-depth digging. I was on my third bin or so when another woman came down to the bins to search what I had just gone through for herself. I sort of kept a curious eye on the things she pulled out which I had discarded and noticed out of the corner of my eye in her hand all of the sudden - A SET OF MARGHAB KNIGHT COCKTAIL NAPKINS. For $3.50! Enter: rush. Major, major blood rush. I HAD to have these napkins. It was, as I mentioned in my previous post, a collector's dream to find these in THIS exact situation.

Did she know what they were? I hoped the hell not. I was hoping she'd toss them back into the bin thinking they were just stodgy old knights on horses and who liked that kind of thing. Did she appreciate them on their own simple merit of possessing absolutely exquisite embroidery? She did - and that is why she LEFT THEM IN HER PILE! NOOOOOOOOO, my heart was silently crying. NO! HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED THEM in that bin? I was at once furious with myself, sad knowing that I probably missed out on them, pissed that someone else got to them and thus jealous of them.

Who knew old vintage linens could bring out these types of emotions - all at once?!



Detail of expert embroidery on the beloved
Carrots and Peas pattern

So, this is where I get pathetic. Even though I was essentially done digging (and how could I concentrate on ANYTHING other than the Marghab now?!) I lingered around those bins like a lost puppy, waiting for her to decide what to do with the Marghab. I mindlessly looked through what was in front of me over and over again, feigning interest in ridiculous pieces, looking over bins of crap for all I was concerned at that point and a rack of tea towels for what seemed like centuries, keeping an eagle eye on the Marghab in her pile, waiting to see if she returned them to the bin.

Well, the lady took them along with some other bags back to her cart which was heaped high with linens. (I have to say here that I did NOT consider this to be a "lady" at the time... more like something which rhymed with "witch"). My heart broke. She was obviously a dealer yet I could tell she did not know they were Marghab and that really infuriated me. She did not deserve them, I was convinced. She was there with her mother, and after she had placed the pile in which the Marghab was included onto the heap, she went back for more searching. I lingered around her cart, watching to see what she would do with the napkins. I did some serious searching all the while upon the shelves around me, but my heart and mind were all about the Marghab.

I wanted to be there in case she for some reason decided against them - which I was sure she wouldn't at this point - but I was glad to take her hopeful Marghab discards. However, I realized that other treasures still buried deep within the linen shelf piles were still to be had, so I gave up. I left the Marghab alone and went where? Back to the little bins. Maybe there was more Marghab there. Another set! Yes, maybe!

Close up of a more uncommon pattern, Wild Rose.
This is a breakfast set, 1 placemat and 2 napkins.

So as I settled back in, down the woman came with who knows what: a pile she was getting ready to put back in the bins. And guess what was on top of her pile? The stodgy old knights and who likes anything like that! Being the so gracious and civil linen woman I am, I kindly offered my hand to hers and said, "Here, let me put those back in the bin for you. I'll take them." She handed them to me thinking she was getting rid of worthless stuff. But I got the last laugh.

I GOT THE MARGHAB!

The Mayhem Surrounding Marghab

Marghab patterns clockwise from top left: Carrots & Peas, Under the Sea,
 Jacaranda Tree, Knight, Mallard

If you focus any of your time collecting/searching for vintage linens, you most probably know the name of Marghab... You may not know the intricate details of the history of this most coveted name - but you know it represents quality. Quite simply it is the finest quality embroidery out there, rivaled only by firms like D. Porthault's with their character beauvais stitch. When Marghab pieces are set alongside pieces not bearing this royal linen provenance, it is quite evident even to an untrained eye that the Marghab is hands-down superior... thus why it is so coveted amongst collectors and dealers.

Marghab linens were produced by Vera Marghab in the mid-1900s. Vera sourced the linen upon which her embroidery would come to fame from the finest Irish mills. She then went to the global hotspot of embroidery at that time: Madeira, Portugal. Here, on this island, only the most skilled embroideresses would have the opportunity to work on Marghab's patterns. They were paid by the stitch - and on each piece of Marghab's work there are thousands. Marghab embroidery is absolutely elegant in every aspect, and the colors used and expertise of the embroidery work leave little room for comparison; it is simply the best of the best.

So... people get a little crazy around Marghab. It is, if you will, what every linen/textile collector or dealer hopes - no, dreams - to uncover on a day of searching, of scouring. "Perhaps here, now, I will uncover a set of Marghab" one's mind plays as one enters some sort of sale... And if, IF, one ACTUALLY does see even a tiny fragment of one of Marghab's patterns peeking out from underneath a pile of stuff - well, suffice it to say that the rush felt is probably akin to what some sort of drug will create. If there are others around you who might also see that tiny fragment... well, then, a bit of subdued mayhem erupts. Civil mayhem, of course, as we are talking linens here. But everyone gets fired up about this - and everyone wants to be the one who walks away with the prize.

I will admit here that I am a complete and total linen addict, as I have said before (and I am not ashamed of this, mind you). I know Marghab patterns, as you may as well, and I know when I see them. So when I tell you this story of how completely and utterly pathetic I have become in regards to "getting" these linens, of being the one who walks away with the prize, if something similiar has also happened to you - you will absolutely laugh. And if it hasn't happened to you, just wait. It will. When you see these linens which command premium prices priced at pennies on the dollar - you will enter the state of Marghab Mayhem.

Tomorrow I tell my story. Stay tuned!

Addicted to the Needle... of Ayrshire Whitework Embroidery

I have collected vintage linens for some time now, and although at a seemingly - well, very - young age (late-30s) to be into this type of thing, I have become not only increasingly obsessed (as my husband will attest to) but have expanded my reach of collecting which I hear happens to many. It took me years to even "admit" my linen passion to myself; so once I somewhat gave into it about five years ago, I began, though reserved, collecting printed tablecloths and towels from the U.S. from the 30s to 50s. I had stepped into vintage linens with the first foot... not knowing what would happen eventually...

As time progressed and areas of my closet became stacked with linens, I began to notice a trend of embroidery and needlework pieces showing up more and more in my purchases. Not the embroidered linens on a typical table runner or dresser scarf with the typical motifs, etc. but fine embroidered pieces. I saw these pieces amongst the prints and my heart would just get a bit more excited... and I would note that I would pass many of these up at estate sales and such for the prints as it seemed more "acceptable" to collect that "type" of vintage linen in the 21st century. Why was it so hard to admit a passion for this type of thing when it was clear what my heart was after?! I was in denial.

Well... I eventually gave in - and I gave in big. I have admitted to myself that I am a helpless linen addict with increasingly complicated tastes. I have given in to "the needle" if you will, relenquishing the quest for printed cloths and the like to others, and focused on procuring fine needleworked pieces from any age and culture in history which I find interesting; I do not discriminate.

Of course I have Madeira and Marghab, Italian work, embroidered and monogrammed damask, Hungarian Matyo cloths, embroidered silk Canton piano scarves, some society silk and exquisite Arts & Crafts pieces, pieces bearing embroidered royal cyphers... I've crossed into different regions to acquire Indian zardozi jeweled cloths, Ottoman embroidery, Suzanis, South American embroidered textiles, embroidered Russian and Palestinian ethnic clothing, needlework samplers... Yes, yes, and more yes. Tablecloths, towels, bed linens, table linens, napkins... yes, yes, yes - everything! No country preference, no style preference. If it's beautiful and has needlework, I am interested... A global connisseur of antique embroidered and/or needleworked pieces if you will.

And as this interest expanded, it inevitably lent me down the path to lace and whitework. So this is where I live, sifting through piles of "old junk" as my husband calls it, at sales, antique shops... perusing eBay and wishing, searching the 'net for interesting pieces... hoping to find the breathtaking. I have found some true gems such as a 2 foot by 15 foot swath of handmade Brussels and Point de Gaze for a song, a stunning blouse front composed of 17th-c. Italian lace for a DIME and others.... Little does my husband know that this hoard of "old junk" can be considered part of a retirement fund....

But one of my true loves has come to be whitework embroidery.

I have drifted from my post topic, which could be expected as I am talking linens and lace here, and if I'm like you - or you're like me - getting distracted when talking linens or textiles is normal. But back to the topic: I love whitework especially because it is void of color - and this requires the needlework to necessarily be exquisite enough to hold the piece up on its own merit of artistic design and execution. "Lace" is busy as it is an entire surface with net in most cases, and with brides whereas whitework embellishes portions of surfaces in most cases with exception to baby bonnets and truly magical works of textile art. Whitework requires one to hold the textile up to the eye and inspect the stitches, the minuteness of stitchery, the meticulousness of line, the artistry in choosing certain stitches for certain design aspects - and the sheer amount ot time taken to produce a white work of art that's purpose was to simply be adornment of something. Can you imagine someone painting a white painting? It would be interesting, no?

Of Scottish origin from the shire (town) of Ayr, Ayrshire embroidery began to show up in the early 1800s. It was introduced to poor Scottish women by an Italian merchant and it quickly took hold and was sold throughout the world. It embellished bonnets, christening gowns and the like. As it was produced on cotton muslin, in the mid 1850s when the US stopped exporting cotton during the Civil War, it was no longer possible to produce the quantity of Ayrshire pieces to meet demand, and the demand thus started to decrease. Additionally, as styles of dress evolved and as dresses were not as ruffled, etc... the simple desire for this type of work essentially fizzled out after the Civil War.

I recently discovered two massive Ayrshire panels on a jaunt to an area antique mall. The panels were stuffed into a small basket of other linens (equally fine and which I also purchased) which sat unassumingly atop a wooden chair behind a rail at the top of a staircase. This basket was perhaps a foot wide by 5 or 6 inches deep, so it was nothing obvious. Only a piece of the Ayrshire showed, but having "the linen eye" I spotted it immediately upon coming to the top of the stairs.

One panel is roughly 6 feet in length with the embroidery measuring roughly 7 inches wide. The other panel is roughly 10 feet in length with the embroidery measuring about 10 inches in height. The panels were most probably taken from a dress. They have a stunning boteh motif throughout, dating them to the early 1800s when the love for anything paisley was great. The work is so immaculate that, although when I first inspected it and was looking at the backside, I was taken away. Truly expert work. Exceptional on every level of linen collecting. No damage. Breathtaking and a delight to hold in the hands, run over with the fingers, rove with the eyes - a delight to literally feel the beauty in the heart.

Again, if we are alike, you will, like me, feel your heart stop upon sight of the photos I've posted of these pieces. Go on, let yourself go. It's o.k. to give in to this type of needle... There is no looking back once your heart feels the race of encountering such beauty in Ayrshire embroidery. You've fallen - and fallen hard, no doubt. Enjoy!