Many of us would associate doilies with our mother or grandmother; beautiful pieces of fabric and lace on display around the house. It’s likely we would have seen a gorgeous doily on display around our parents’ house. You might even be like me, who has a collection of them passed on from my mother.
I have lots of old, wooden furniture that needs polishing. Rather than storing these doilies in a cupboard to collect dust, I make use of them to protect both the furniture and the precious China or other such things that I place on the surfaces. You don’t see handiwork like this very often, so why not make the most of it and show it off.
I still have a lot of what were called ‘Duchess sets’. They are a set of hand-embroidered fabrics made by my mother for her ‘glory box’. She and Dad were married in 1947, so many of the sets I have are more than 70 years old. Vintage by today’s standard.
I was recently ironing and noticed that the crocheted edge on one of the doilies was coming undone. If I approached it with today’s ‘decluttering’ mindset, I would have tossed it away. Then I looked at the hand-embroidered flowers and thought of my hope-filled Mum, waiting for the end of World War II and the chance of getting married. With the rationing during and after the war, a great amount of time and effort went into ‘making do’. My mother was a thrifty woman, recycling things before the environment had anything to do with it. I still remember that her wedding dress became the first bedspread for her and my father.
Instead of throwing the doily away, I found myself looking for a needle and some thread. I mended the crochet edge, noting the fineness of the cotton and marvelling at the fine hook that would have been needed to do this work. My mother probably did her work on the train while she was travelling to work in the city, or at night, listening to the radio. I held in my hands this little piece of my mum and was grateful for the lessons in sewing (and thrift) that she taught me.