Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Are We Seeing a Pattern?

A couple of posts ago, I posted pictures of handmade toys and guessed that my Grandmother had made them.  I do not have difinitive proof, but I have more evidence.  While digging through the bins with her things in them, hoping that my new, sterner resolve would let me release a few, I found these.


The pale one on the bottom, left, is the dog in the other post and the one on the on the right is the rabbit.  As I say, not complete proof, but suggestive. 

Those were not the only patterns in the bin.


The page in the upper right is an invoice and the yellow envelope has the address of a craft supply company on it.  Several people have mentioned that she earned money doing crafts while her children were small.  I've only seen two or three invoices, though.  And as thourough as she was keeping other things, that may be telling.

She kept the patterns, though.

She kept lots of patterns.  Those little, cup-shaped envelopes each has a pattern.  Sometimes more than one. 

Shamrocks.  Dogs.  Scimitars.

The larger patterns may have been for toys, but the little patterns in the envelopes were for making felt jewelery.

I don't know how big a fad it was, but during the Depression and WWII, it was something that you could make if you couldn't afford real jewelry.  She obviously bought some of the patterns.  And some of the labels say they were her own design or that she had modified the design.

 
Some of the patterns are on scrap paper.  You can tell this one used to be a paper bag, that one was a cardboard shirt facing. 
 
Some of the jewelry patterns were a bit flamboyant.  Others were more restrained.  Embroidery, sequins, and beads were used to upgrade the felt to jewelry status.  She also kept samples.
 
 
 
As you can see, political correctness was a concept that was decades in the future.  Sometimes it's good to be reminded.
 
I've already recycled the paper patterns.  I may be able to sell some of the toys and jewelry at an antique shop where I've seen similar things.  I'm also ready to try to sell the baby blankets and baby clothes.  And if not, maybe the thrift shop.
 
I don't know why the thrift shop seems a little less respectful than the antique shop.  It does, though.  Maybe it's because it will take more effort.  The thrift shop has a drop off area.  I wouldn't even have to get out of my car.  I will have to talk to the owner of the antique shop.  We will have to look at the pieces together.  It will feel more like saying goodbye, I think.