How To Make An Heirloom

Heirlooms are losing their value... 

Not the monetary value, the intrinsic value that comes from tradition, memories, honor and love.  With the loss of Sunday lunches at Mom’s or Grandmother’s house, comes the loss of knowing her table will be graced with fine white linen, carefully washed and ironed, the loss of snowy white cotton napkins at each place, her china and crystal beautifully set. We’ve lost seeing her bustling about in a serviceable but lovely apron to cover her good church clothes while she prepares the meal. Each step of preparation completed with a sense of tradition, love and family and the incredible value of effort.  At some point in our busy lives, convenience became more important, we needed to make the next game or prepare for the next work day, see the next tv show or rush out to meet friends. We moved to paper plates, take out lunch and throwaway utensils. 

I miss the tradition and the treasures of that bygone era. I love the memories seeing them provokes. I enjoy finding such treasures at estate sales and imagining their use and value – judging by the way they’ve stored, their condition and their place in the home.

So many of those treasures fall into our hands, but a few are a little damaged through age, use and general conditions.  It would be good, we thought to create new heirlooms and hopefully help bring back a bit of their lost value.

Over the months we have accumulated a laundry basket (or 2, maybe 3) of what the Middle One refers to as ‘Franken-linens’. Her term for pieces that are mostly whole, but have a small amount of damage that prevents them from being sold.  Why couldn’t we turn them into new heirlooms, but do so in a manner that would echo the period they originally came from?

We could embrace reduce, reuse, recycle!

I purchased a 1940’s apron pattern, used another apron or two we had acquired as a pattern and set out to see what could be created.

For the first attempt I found a sheet made in the 1930’s.  What wonderful cotton they used! These were meant to last. They were meant to withstand hard scrubbing, harsh lye soap, starch and irons heated by the fire.  I honestly don’t think you can find fabric like this anymore.  To decorate these aprons I gathered all the lady’s handkerchiefs that had a small hole (or a big one), and my box of vintage buttons and added them to the pile. It wasn’t smart to trust vintage thread so that had to be new, as did a bit of binding.

It’s a shame to see so many very lovely pieces go to waste so if we can create something new, practical, beautiful and worth saving, it can only be a good thing right? Now, I’ve never sewn anything to sell. I’ve bartered with it a little, and done a few favors, and I sewed for myself and my girls when they were younger. But this is a whole new experience for me.

Battenburg Lace Half Apron

The sheet became the body of the aprons, the handkerchiefs the pockets, and the buttons for accent. A single beautiful tablecloth became an apron and then two pockets for other pieces.

This week I added my first creations to the shop, Estatelyladies, and I’m sharing them here with you! We chose to list them as created by Mimi's Estatements to separate them from true vintage items. If these go over well there will soon be pillows, Christmas stockings, and who knows what else!

Full Apron   Advance Pattern 7856 from the 1940's - Body from vintage sheet, lace pocket from vintage lady's handkerchief, vintage yellow pearl buttons and buttery yellow binding and now raw seams!

Full Apron     Pattern made from a vintage apron that was beyond saving. The body is from a vintage sheet, the pocket and bib are decorated with a lady's handkerchief damaged in one corner. Bright blue piping accents!

Half Apron  designed using measurements from a 1950's apron. The body is from the same vintage sheet as above (it was a very generous sheet!) and the pocket is a cheerful lady's handkerchief!

Mommy and Me set - dimensions from a vintage apron. The body is, once again, a crisp vintage sheet, the pockets are from the battenburg lace tablecloth and the all is set off with bright spring green binding!

Steam, Starch and Time

 This week I rediscovered ironing. 

Yes, yes, I know. No one irons any more. Today’s fabrics frequently don’t need it, or wont even take it. But, yesterday’s fabrics are a different story.

At the last estate sale I found a veritable treasure, 28 absolutely beautiful, vintage, lady’s handkerchiefs.  Now, there were many more, but a search through an entire box yielded only the 28 prettiest, in the best condition.  Some are printed, some are embroidered, a few are monogrammed. Some have never been used, their original tags still attached, some are a little worn but clearly loved. 

So how did this find become a nostalgic afternoon?

After a good washing and careful inspection, they were nothing more than  a large pile of wrinkled squares of clean, fine cotton and linen, and potential.  

In order to make them presentable, they had to be ironed. 

In all fairness, this necessitated buying a new ironing board – apparently they only last about 25 years, and my last one was leaning precariously. On a cold, wet afternoon I found an old movie on TV, set up the ironing board, pulled out the spray starch, and plugged in the iron. Immediately I missed the sprinkle bottle that sat by my grandmother’s ironing board. You may remember such a thing – a Coke bottle with a cork inserted in the top and an aluminum sprinkling head attached.  I may have to find one and order it (if I don’t luck up on one at an estate sale. Also, I know I’ve seen them on Etsy)

As soon as the hot iron slid across the first corner of the first handkerchief, I knew it was going to be a good afternoon.  You see, when a hot iron, steam and Niagra Spray Starch mix on fine, vintage cotton, magic happens.  Press a button and a wonderful cloud of steam and nostalgia wafts up. Time seems to stand still.

Each piece starts out as a wrinkled wad of cloth - fine cloth, but certainly not presentable. As the iron moves over it and the wrinkles disappear, beautiful details emerge. Some of these linens are so fine that they are almost sheer. They are delicate and feminine. They are small works of art. As each piece is carefully pressed I begin to imagine who might have bought such a thing in the past and who its future owner might be. 

One exceptional treasure is very fine cotton lawn, sheer but strong. In one corner a large shadow work S has been monogrammed with elegant but simple detail. As the wrinkles smooth away it’s apparent that the shadow work embroidery might actually be a very pale shell pink. The color is almost indiscernible. This is an exquisite piece for a bride, or a cherished friend or family member.

Another has tiny flowers embroidered along the border. One has a cluster of flowers carefully worked in each corner. Still another has tiny initials GSM

in white embroidery on an opaque white field.

Watching the pile of wrinkled cotton decrease and the stack of pristine linen grow, the realization also grew that for the last hour I was relaxed, lost in memories of watching my mother or grandmother iron. I reveled in the aroma of steam and cotton and starch. While this task requires care, it does not require deep thought. My mind was free to wander. The satisfaction of seeing all of the beautiful work done year and years ago once more glow was incredible.

Now let no one get carried away and suddenly decide that dropping off your linen at my door step will be welcome.

The Major will tell you that his (not my) Sunday morning job when our girls were small, was ironing church dresses. Still, I enjoyed the afternoon. I accomplished a great deal, and Im looking forward to the rest of the ironing needed for the shop.  Tea towels, pillow cases, cloth napkins, tablecloths, aprons and doilies. Ok, the doilies are tedious.  And I have to wonder, why don’t we have these amazing fabrics any more? When did we let the satisfaction of a quiet afternoon’s work become drudgery.  For me that afternoon’s ironing resolved a couple of common dilemmas.  

A chore was accomplished that needed doing. 

Time was found to relax and enjoy an old movie 

(one of my guilty pleasures). 

My heart was touched by the memories of my mother and my grandmothers completing this same task, knowing the same scents and the same sense of accomplishment. 

And it's been confirmed, newer is not always better.