Beyond Knitting
Scarcity Stitch
When my grandmother Mawmaw Ann Shreve re-married in 1971, she wore a polyester mini-dress with long lace sleeves. She said that was the style then: “Dresses came down to just below where your fingertips touched your thigh.”
Mawmaw, our Appalachian name for grandmother, was a divorced single mother working in the accounting office at the Sears Roebuck catalog store in Richlands, Virginia. Each day in the ’60s, she dressed stylishly for work in maxi skirts and dresses, which matched her earrings, bracelets, and necklaces.
But styles changed and she cut the bottoms off all of her skirts and dresses to make them into minis. Then she made her dress scraps into a quilt.
I am now the keeper of that quilt.
Recently, I asked Mawmaw Shreve if she had thought about throwing away her off-cuts and she exclaimed, “You wouldn’t dare!” I knew what she would say, but I wanted to hear her say it. I didn’t want to project an ideal of thrifty Appalachians onto my own grandmother. But I knew the thrifty mentality that she passed down to me was learned from her own mother, Narcie Smith.
Narcie Smith
Narcie and her husband Avery lived like many Appalachian wilderness families in a house they built themselves high up on a mountain ridge.
Avery worked in the coal mines and kept bees. Narcie cooked, kept house, grew most of their food on a steep hillside, milked the cows, made butter, and washed their clothes and linens on Mondays in washtubs on a wash board.
Narcie sewed clothes and quilts on her Singer treadle sewing machine in a corner of her bedroom. She made underclothes from bleached “chop sacks,” which had held feed for hogs and she made dresses from printed flour sacks.
Because she prized cloth, Narcie saved it. No scrap was too small or the wrong kind. Anything too small to make a garment she kept by her sewing machine to be saved for quilts.
Nine-patch front.
Narcie’s quilts involved inventing and improvising the overall quilt pattern as she pieced while also using known blocks like nine-patch, log cabin, and spider’s web.
Nine-patch back.
At the same time that my great-grandmother was stitching in Appalachia, the women of Gee’s Bend in Alabama were creating their own quilt language with what they had on hand.
“Basket Weave Variation.” Made by Mary Lee Bendolph (b.1935), cotton, polyester, corduroy, 84 x 75 inches, 1990, Gee’s Bend, Alabama. Quilt in the collection of Tate Modern. Photo by Jeni Hankins from the exhibition We Will Walk: Art and Resistance in the American South, Hastings Contemporary Gallery, 2020.
They, too, were led by the fabric to design different patterns and to use atypical cloth. Two very different cultures—one predominantly white Scottish, English, and Irish, and the other, Black with African roots—both made the cloth work for them. They both had to because there was simply no other option.
We can look further afield than rural America to make connections with people and traditions where cloth was never abandoned just because it could no longer perform its original purpose. Two traditions I’ve observed in person and in exhibitions are Bengali kantha (pictured above) and Japanese boro (below), which both respect the power of scraps which once combined become sturdy textiles.
Boro shikifuton. Late 19th early 20th century. Used to cover the mattress or as padding for a Futon, a traditional Japanese bedding consisting of a thin, quilted mattress that can be rolled up and stored during the day. Photo by Jeni Hankins from the collection of Karun Thakar exhibited at Japanese Aesthetics of Recycling, Brunei Gallery, SOAS, 2023.
I call this respect for materials and the ability to transform them “Scarcity Stitch,” which means making something durable and essential out of what others might consider disposable.
Scarcity stitch is practiced in traditions where there is an urgency about extending the life of cloth. In caste systems, in marginalized communities, in geographically and economically isolated communities, in war there is inherent scarcity—scarcity of materials and little or no money to buy any. What you have around you, even if tattered, is your greatest resource.
Though many of us reading here may not know the level of scarcity that my great-grandmother or other scarcity stitchers knew, we are experiencing a new environmental scarcity and it means our relationship with cloth must change. The more we can re-use, re-imagine, re-cycle, and re-fashion fibers, the more impact our needles will have. We can mend the planet one stitch, one saved scrap at at time.
After Narcie passed away, Mawmaw Shreve and I found a bundle of table scarves and aprons in her window box seat. Each one had been hand embroidered with flowers or birds and used until there were holes, stains, or fraying.
Mawmaw and I agreed that this precious bundle of material was one more of Narcie’s quilts waiting to be made. I’m now making that quilt because I know my great-grandmother wouldn’t want her cloth to go to waste. She taught me the price of cloth.
This is an abridged version of an article that Jeni has published in full on Substack. Follow the link where you can also find a free PDF download called Thoughts on Quilts. In the PDF you’ll find Jeni’s practical suggestions for making a tied nine-patch quilt in the tradition of her great-grandmother.
Want a little more procrastination? The MDK homepage is a total rabbit hole.
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Jeni, I always find treasures in your columns. But, these words are the most precious!
So much wisdom and inspiration passed on through your voice! I’ve spent the last hour reading both here and the full article on Substack, making notes on ideas, things I want explore further…. it’s been a rich hour! Thank you for sharing Narcie Smith and Ann Shreve with us.
What a beautiful and kind comment, Maggie. You’ve made my day. Thank you for spending your morning with my grandmothers and me. This means so much to me. I hope you’ll share what you make and your thoughts with me as they develop. Thank you, again.
This is great! And a good reminder of commonality among cultures. Thank you.
Thank you for reading, Joanne.
This is wonderful, Jeni. It reminded me how much I adore the quilts passed down to me from my ancestors. One beautiful blue and white one was so worn that my mother made it with much love into adorable jointed teddy bears for each of our family members. She also took a storied bathrobe that was a gift to me from my grandmother and made it into a large jointed teddy when it became very worn. Both greet me everyday in the family room where I knit.
I love when quilts and other beloved textile become teddy bears. I’m a teddy bear enthusiast and they are such kind vessels for holding our love and memories. Thank you for reading, Lynn.
Wonderful. I really enjoyed reading this.
Thank you for reading, Julia.
This is a wonderful article and being a quilter and daughter of a depression era mother I know about “saving everything “. She made all my clothes and hers and taught me the same. I have taught a granddaughter to sew and she made period costumes for plays at Va Tech while she was there. These quilts are priceless and I am lucky to have two shops in my area that carry these hand made quilts for sale. I recently made a quilt from feedsacks and it is one of my favorites.
I love your family history of saving and that you made your own feed sack quilt. I bet it’s gorgeous!
What a wonderful article. I love hearing about your family, Jeni. It’s interesting how much fabric of all types figure in the female history of so many of us. My grandmother sewed and crocheted. Her daughter – my mother – embroidered and knitted. I sewed and I knit – something from each of them. Got to see a Gee Bend quilt exhibition one year at the Indianapolis Museum of Art (we were there ironically for something for the guys). I made a beeline for the Gee Bend. Those quilts had a similar “feel” to them as your grandmothers’ quilts – that sense of “make do.” And all the more beautiful for it.
Thank you for sharing your family’s making story with me! It’s beautiful that we inherit this desire to stitch and create textiles. I have loved every Gee’s Bend exhibition I’ve seen. I only wish my great-grandmother could have seen them because I would have enjoyed the look of recognition in her eyes!
So enjoyed reading this tribute.
Thank you for reading, Vivian.
My Nana made all 6 of her grandkids matching PJ’s for Xmas and made all of us matching short outfits for end of school. When we all outgrew them they “disappeared” but would later show up in quilts, pillows, etc which we loved remembering the fabrics we had worn in our younger days. What fun for us! What a lot of love and work from our beloved Nana!
I LOVE how the PJs came back in another incarnation!
This is beautiful, and so timely…there’s a big pile of antique embroidered linens (it’s been collecting for years) in my sewing room closet waiting to be washed and made into just such a quilt. When my grandmas and aunts died, no one thought their linens were “good enough” to keep (and I was pretty young), so out they went. I want to make this piece in their honor. Thank you for bringing us this gem of an article!
I’m so excited that you are thinking about using your embroidered linens in a quilt too. If you’re on social media, I would love to see what you make.
I really enjoyed your article, Jeni,
My grandmother and my mother were makers. I have hand embroidered table cloths from my grandmother and my husband’s aunt. We use them often for Shabbat and other special occasions. And we feel their love with us although they have been “gone” for many years. I sewed my own clothes throughout high school and made my own maternity clothes as well. In the 60’s and 70’s, store bought maternity clothes had no style at all! I have made quilts and knitted baby blankets for our children and grandchildren. And now I give each grandchild a knitted afghan when they graduate high school. These blankets go with them to university, and they know they are wrapped in love wherever they go. I also make afghans for special birthdays, anniversaries and other occasions for family and friends. I feel so much pleasure as I create these blankets and quilts. Knitting and sewing and making are so good for my mental and emotional health. During COVID, I used up most of my stash knitting infinity scarves for family and friends. Thank you for getting my morning off to a wonderful start. Wishing you good health and continued strength in all your endeavours.
Ruth Ellen Greenwood
I love your comment so much and hearing about your sewing and knitting. And those blankets. My mom made my comforter and pillows for my bed at college and that meant so much to me. I still have them! As you say, even when the makers have departed they live on in the things made. Hugs to you!
Thank you for your very kind words. Going through a rough patch watching a very dear friend battle a very virulent cancer. Your article offered some consolation. The afghan I made for him for his retirement is keeping him warm and loved. May we all “make on” in love and hope.
what an inspiring piece of writing. I have a few braided rugs made by my great-grandmother and grandmother out of wool scraps from clothing they had originally made for themselves and family (c.late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries). My prized possession is a hooked rug made of wool scraps from the same source. My great-grandmother used it as a means to teach my then nine-year-old grandmother (c1901) how to hook. It now hangs, preserved and framed, in my home. My feelings when I look closely at these items – the skill, determination, and willingness to ‘make do’ are truly inspirational.
I love braided and hooked rugs so much. What treasures to have in your home. And to have known the hands that made them. How wonderful.
In the late 60s Sharon Rockefeller started the Mountain Artisan Project in West Va to preserve the art and craft of quilting while providing an income stream for these women.
In the early 70s Merikay Wadvogel began buying, cataloging and preserving old quilts. She along with another Tennessee resident and artist published a book on these quilts too.
I have a quilt made by an unknown relative for my father. It’s possibly from the early 30s.
Now we have Jeni preserving the personal family stories of her relatives. Thank you so much.
Aww, Lucy! Thank you. I’ve read that book about the Mountain Artisan Project. I think reading it made me realise that I needed to take notice of what was happening with Mawmaw’s quilts which were sometimes used to cover plants and porch furniture. I washed them and took them home thinking how I’d write about them some day. Hugs to you!
My grandmothers on both sides came from quilting traditions – both from German immigrant stock, in two very different places – one in the City of St. Louis and the other in the fields of South Dakota. I have a “picnic quilt” which has an older, tattered quilt inside it! When that quilt became too ragged for use, they sewed it into a fabric sleeve and made a new quilt. Effectively the old quilt became the batting.
I recently found the kind of quilt you describe in an abandoned house. A very tattered but beautiful poinsettia quilt in indigo fabric was inside another much simpler covering!
What a lovely retelling of your personal family story! I am the keeper of a very threadbare quilt made by my grandmother, who cross-stitched the entire top and then hand-quilted it with help from her nine sisters. My Grandma Grace taught me to sew, knit, crochet and embroider. I have long intended to salvage her quilt in any way I can and your story has encouraged me to make that a priority. Thank you so much for sharing!
I’m so excited that you’re inspired to salvage Grandma Grace’s quilt. It sounds wonderful. I wish I could see pictures of everyone else’s quilts!
Love the story and the reminder to be more thrifty!
Thank you, Joan!
Jeni,
Thank you! I want my husband to read this, but I doubt he’d get the message.
My Gram, MumMum, was also a hill country (Vermont) make-doer after being widowed at 36 (I think?) years old with 6 kids ranging from teens to infant, the depression still raging and WWII just about to launch. The family had been subsistence farmers before the accident took my grandfather. The farm struggled on for another year or 2 until my oldest uncle gave up and joined the army (lying about his age to get in ASAP). Gram had to turn to housekeeping to keep her family together. Never heard when the farm was lost, hopefully sold, but I do not know. They stayed in that valley though & I grew up summering there & knew which house was my Mom was born.
To this day, a root cellar filled with brightly coloured jars of preserved veggies, fruits and jams fills all my senses with a feeling of love & security. And yes, the thought of NOT saving fabric (mostly clothing) that may have a worn knee, a tear or a stain is utterly abhorrent to me. I seem to be the only one in my generation to have inherited this trait, but it keeps my Gram with me even though she’s been gone for 30 years. I so respect how that woman made her way through all the hard times she saw while loving her family the best she could and kept her dignity too.
She helped teach me to knit. I still do some canning and hope to be doing a LOT more in the near future. I’ve also taken that “waste not want not” ethic into new directions, most especially in reupholstering abandoned furniture. My hus band is a saint in so many ways! He totally gets my knitting stash, tries his hardest to accept my “lawn shopping” for furniture (it helps when he actually SEES it turned into new & usable pieces!) but my “fabric” stash… that is where he struggles.
And YES!! Gees Bend quilt exhibits are LIFE CHANGING! Got to see one at Boston’s MFA back in the 2000’s ang WGBH (public television) did a Gees Bend documentary based upon that exhibit. You just KNOW I bought the book while I was there seeing the exhibit!
So again, THANK you!
Thank you for these memories Diane and for your efforts to save, salvage, and repurpose! Knowing there’s a community of us like-minded savers out there gives me hope!
Oh Jeni. This story so beautiful in so many ways. I love the colors of the quilts and words.
And the quilt in the photo at the top is the one that Mawmaw helped me make for you and Charlie. I love you!
For those of us who didn’t grow up with these wonderful women as role models and teachers, did you know that you can go to Gee’s Bend for a private learning vacation with the quilters? It’s on my bucket list for someday.
https://vawaa.com/artists/loretta-marlene-quiltmaking-gees-bend-alabama
Oh!! Thank you for sharing this link!
This was profoundly moving. I agree with this mindset. I have bins of fabrics that I have collected and have fabrics from my mother and my grandmother. I have started to work on a scrap quilt. For those who are interested in doing this, there are some very good books on this subject. I love your perspectives and your writing.
I am really excited about your scrap quilt. I love how the fabric we have seems to create a pathway for what we make. The fabric leads us!
Wonderful story beautifully illustrated. Thank you!
Thank you for reading!
Heartbreakingly beautiful, Jeni. I grew up in Appalachia, and remember that use of precious resources very well.
Thank you so much, Robin. I’m glad that my letter has resonated with a fellow Appalachian.
Thank you, Jeni, for a lovely post this morning. I come from a long line of makers too and am fortunate to have a dramatic Lone Star quilt made by a great great aunt out of scraps from clothing my maw-maw made for herself when I was growing up. Maw-Maw shared her fabric stash with her aunt and every time I look at the quilt, I remember the outfits and the fun I had learning to sew from the women in my family.
Lone Star quilts are SO magical. How wonderful that you have one so full of family memories.
At the age of 72, I’m the proud owner of two quilts made by my grandmother and her mother and my father could identify many of the fabrics made from his old clothing. Unfortunately the fabrics are deteriorating due to age but I have taken very good care of them. They were made during the Depression when everything was scarce
I love the way that we and others can “read” family quilts.
I live in southern Appalachia, western NC to be exact, and have heard so many references to the kind of life you have described. Your very immediate and specific example of your grandparents and how they both lived brought it more to me than most other stories and references to life and living in the mountains during the late 19th century and early 20th. Thank you. As you can probably tell, I am not native to this area and grew up like many of us in a much more metropolitan area. My past 20 years here have very much enriched my life. Thank you, thank you for writing about this area and one of its making traditions which does seem to appear one way or another throughout the world.
What a very kind message, Amy. Thank you for the compliment. Your perspective means so much to me because it’s always been my wish to represent my Appalachian heritage with honesty through the real stories of people I’ve loved rather than creating a kind of general narrative. So, the fact that you saw the detail in what I write means so much to me. Thank you for reading and commenting.
My sisters and I have several of these quilts, made during the Depression by our late grandmother and other women of her generation. The fabric is very worn, and what we discovered is that the padding between the two layers of fabric is old newspapers. Truly a situation where everything was used and re-used!
Oh my goodness, Helene! I love knowing about the old newspapers in your family quilts. Thank you for sharing this insight into literally using everything.
I wish someone would advertise where to date items of clothing that could be repurposed, such as flannel and cotton shirts with worn necklines. Throwing away useable cloth bothers me!
Donate, not date.
Actually Jude, you can donate worn clothes to places like Value Village or Goodwill. The clothing gets sorted and anything worn (too worn) stained or torn gets sold by the pound to industrial rag makers.
Wish I’d have thought to donate an old flannel robe to Goodwill. I knew someone could repurpose the usable parts but didn’t know where to donate. I’ll remember next time. And I just remembered that pet shelters will take old fabrics, old towels & sheets.
Thank you, Jeni. I read this and your longer Substack and your special document.
Your ancestors’ quilts remind me of those made by my late friend, teacher, and collaborator Catherine Pickens Willmond, who died nine days short of her 100th birthday three years ago. (I miss her so much.) We worked together for more than 40 years (she was teaching me her native language, Chickasaw) and during that time I saw many of the quilts she made using the same techniques you describe that she learned growing up in a log cabin in rural Oklahoma. I have several of these (some she gave me, some I bought) and I treasure them. One technique she used that you didn’t mention is making yo-yo quilt tops from fabric scraps.
I have my own small collection of quilts made by my grandmother who died before I was born. My mother was born in 1919 in Buncombe County, NC. She was the youngest of 11 (all of whom lived to adulthood). My grandparents had a farm and my grandmother, apparently, ran the show.
Unfortunately, my quilts have to stay hidden because we have two dogs who run the show here. The quilts would not be safe. At some point someone had set aside some of the nicer quilts for the granddaughters. As the youngest , I had last pick, but I got a beautiful quilt that I was able to enjoy in my room as a teenager. We had others we used as everyday items when I was growing up. My mother grew up using them so that’s what we did. She later had some regret that one or two of them were worn out.
Now I have to educate my children about their value. Since neither shows any interest in textiles, I have my work cut out for me!
Thanks for your stories, Jenni. I also enjoy your missives from across the sea!
Jeni, I always enjoy your posts, but when I read your post early this morning, I was immediately swept away with your words and reminiscences…many of which resonated with me. I’ve thought about your post with pleasure off and on all day.
While I don’t come from a family of quilters, many years ago I made a crib quilt for the birth of each of my 6 nieces and nephews. The quilt I made for one niece became her security blanket, and I have a treasured photo of her holding on to it while it dried on the clothesline. So cute! I left quilting behind for many years, until I ended up finishing a quilt that my mother-in-law was unable to finish before her death. It was made from fabrics leftover from the many clothing items she had made for the little niece (her granddaughter) who loved my quilt so.
I dove further into the links in your post and was delighted to read your words about Lee Smith. She is one of my favorite authors, and lives in the town I grew up in (I now live about 40 minutes away). Fair and Tender Ladies and On Agate Hill are my favorites. I also love music, especially singing, which I’ve never done professionally or even in public, but is a source of joy. My husband and I have spent time in traveling in southwestern Virginia. And I’m something of an Anglophile, and of course a knitter! So you can see why your words resonated with me in many ways!
Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful stories…I look forward to reading more!
Great article. Something from nothing is my favorite. String and needles, flower and water and yeast.
It is so inspirational to see a reawakening of past crafts that were necessary for living. We found 13 quilts made by my husbands great grandmother. These were in various states of disrepair but we were able to revive them and pass them on to all the female members of the family. We are all so appreciative of these timeless gifts.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you!! I was reminded of my mom who made most of my clothes, and her own, when I was growing up. She made shirts for my dad and even made her own evening gowns. They belonged to a dance club and she made beautiful gowns that she would remodel every so often into a new, unique gown. I sewed my own clothes for years, but never to her level. Thank you for reminding us all that we are connected to one another, worldwide, by our common crafts, arts, thrift and love of making things. Let’s keep sharing those things and handing them down to the next generation. My yarn stash will someday go to my wonderful daughter-in-law who is a crocheter.
Jeni, you are a gift to your Mawmaw, your family of origin and to your family of crafters who get to bask in your gorgeous words.