Day #34: Blooming Cactus
Choosing an eye-pleasing color palette did not come naturally to me, and here's the evidence. Let's breathe slowly as we approach this bed-size quilt, so as not to trigger sea-sickness.
Choosing an eye-pleasing color palette did not come naturally to me, and here's the evidence. Let's breathe slowly as we approach this bed-size quilt, so as not to trigger sea-sickness.
It's slightly less terrible when you get very close, thanks to the blue oasis.
Sure, I knew that the orange and brown were awful, but I believed I was on a mission to prove ugly fabrics could be beautiful. Specifically, I wanted to redeem this crackly orange and brown batik, which I cut from a designer hippie halter-top-and-bell-bottom set that my extremely stylish mother wore in the 60s or 70s (probably purchased at Filene's Basement, in downtown Boston).
In hindsight, this fabric is irredeemable. (Except: As a faux Halloween pumpkin.)
The fabric I most love on this quilt is near the center, and also on the back - an African wax print. It looks really great when not in eyeshot of brown and orange.
But despite the chaloshes (terrible) colors, I learned more from making this quilt - as a new quilter - than any other quilt. Specifically, I learned how much fun it is to make gradual color and value shifts that create movement across the quilt. I still find this activity utterly thrilling (especially because I now use better colors.)
The print that follows the halter top, and that forms the appliqued flowers, was cut from a different garment, a batik Indonesian shirt. The outermost blue fabric (which is also in the center of the quilt) is an American cowboy sky-themed fabric. The international diversity of these fabrics makes me laugh!
And no quilt is complete without buttons. (They're in the middle of the flowers.)
And no quilt is complete without buttons. (They're in the middle of the flowers.)
Whether you use ugly or beautiful fabric (and today I courageously recommend the latter), planning a Blooming Nine Patch takes you straight out of your left brain, and deposits you happily into the other side. I had such a ball working through the color shifts, that I felt like I could make nothing but Blooming Nine Patches for the rest of my quilting life and be perfectly happy!
Poundwise, this is my heaviest quilt, and one of my longest. My porch ceiling isn't high enough - in the photo above, the bottom of the quilt is folded on the floor. It holds 68 appliqued neckties, most intact, plus a whole lot of vintage buttons, all dating from the 1950s to today. They were gathered over many years, from flea markets, thrift shops, friends and relatives.
Above that come the 1960s ties, with ultra wide psychedelic paisleys;
Then upward to novelty neckties: Elvis, the Wizard of Oz, a giant trout, beer, photography, golf course, space shuttles, warplanes, Forbes Magazine, laptop computers, Tabasco Slurpees (?), and so much more. My favorite tie is the brown and gold “how to tie a tie” tie that I wove vertically through the middle.
In the lower left of the quilt - as a nod to the tie’s role as a phallic symbol - I placed the neckties related to love, sex, marriage, obstetrics and babies - including in the center, a blue-and gold necktie with the word "Viagra" repeated on it, again and again. (Presumably that tie has extra interfacing.)
Almost all the ties on this quilt are intact, and sewn in place with relatively large stitches. I did move most labels from the back to the front (on the narrow end), for documentation, but other than that, in theory, someone could cut the ties off, steam them, and wear it! See more photos in my blog post, here. This quilt is looking for the right home, ideally with a passionate necktie afficianado, who has at least one blank, strong, high wall, and it's on sale for only $4000 (negotiable, I'll throw in shipping!)
