I really wanted to make some more Minnie and Chicken Potholders for the Open House this morning, but the idea just weren’t coming. So I warmed up by filling some potholder orders. An Independent Hen, Minnie in the Garden a few others. But when I finished these, instead of more potholder ideas coming to me, I kept glancing at my floor where I’ve had the beginnings of two scarves laid out since last week. I suddenly knew how I wanted to finish one of them off and knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until I did. The combination of lace and hankies and doilies, that I couldn’t get to work on Thursday, came together easily.
I’ve been using doilies in my work for years. For my MFA show I unraveled tons of doilies and crocheted them around stair railing, wove them into carpets and dropped them in squiggly piles on the floor. I even framed an unraveled doilies, the memory of what it used to be evident only in the kink of the yarn and the tradition of framing doilies.
Most of the doilies I unraveled, belonged to my grandmother. There was something powerful and cathartic about the action of undoing what she had done and reshaping it. Like being able to dismantle the past and and rework it into a way that suited me. I’m not saying I achieved that, but I liked the idea of it.
So, here I am, 25 years later, still working with doilies, I think the two I used in this scarf are the last of my grandmothers.
To make this scarf, I used a layer of hankies and a layer of lace and doilies and sewed them together. I had a couple of people ask me for lace scarves, so I see if any of them what this on first. If not, I’ll offer it for sale.