How to Resist Flea Market Judaica

Perhaps because I make quilted Judaica - perhaps because I am the daughter of a Holocaust survivor who came to the US with zero possessions - when I see a Judaic object at a thrift shop or flea market I must fend off a powerful compulsion to adopt it. For many years, I rarely said "no." As a result, my home is exploding at the seams with Jewish objets.

Fortunately, one of the best ways to stiffen one's resistance to flea market finds is now at hand - the cell phone. I take pictures, and can thereby keep the object with me forever, but never need to dust it. 

This past Sunday, during my monthly pilgrimage to the Pasadena City College Flea Market (almost as big as the famed Rose Bowl Flea Market, but free!) I saw an unusual amount of Judaica. As is its wont, much of it is mysterious, so I welcome your enlightenment and/or speculation. 

First, there was this 2-3 foot tall horse's head menorah. (Try to ignore the copper pagoda and other tchotchkes in the background.)

The vendor speculated that it was a home craft project, but couldn't guess why someone would graft a horse's head onto a Hanukah lamp. Horses go with Hanukah like fish go with bicycles. Maybe it's a mob threat menorah? He told me the piece was from New York, and was willing to sell it to me for a mere $75. I resisted. I also resisted his nice Shabbat and holiday bread tray: 

It's oddly shaped - the upper right corner is cut out - not sure why. (UPDATE: Thank you to the reader who informed me that a wooden-handled bread knife is supposed to fit neatly into the slot, completing the wooden rectangle!)

At another booth, there was this wonderfully-aged statue of Moses halting traffic:

The statue - maybe 8" high - felt like lightweight plastic. The base was heavier, and it said the following. 

Isaac Jeheskel? When I got home I googled him and up came a world of silver-plated statuary. It sure felt like plastic. Isaac Jeheskel no longer seems to be in business, but an identical statue (except definitely silver) once sold on ebay for $40. So it's not like I lost a winning lottery ticket.

This dealer must have been at a Jewish estate sale, because he also had these nice silver candlesticks, with Jerusalem carved into them, mint in box. 

I already have way too many candlesticks, so that's how I talked myself out of those. 
For the Judaica collector who has everything, there was this: 

Open the doors, and voila, speaking of Moses - there they are, all ten commandments! (But abbreviated.)

After opening and shutting the doors a few times, though, I'm not sure what I would do with it. 
And finally, three pieces of Judaica that win the prize for "strangest placement in a display case." (If you are under 18, please avert your eyes):

On the lower left, there's a box on a pedestal - the vendor said it's a silver match holder for Shabbat. (I can read the Hebrew phonetically, but I have no idea what it's saying - let me know if you do.) To the right, there's a couple of plain kiddush cups? Candleholders? Above that, there's a lacy mezuzah. And directly above the match-holder, there's what appears to be a Persian miniature pendant showing two lovely ancient people about to, um, conceive slightly less ancient people. And just above that, two more people are doing the same, but in a more adventurous pose! 

I came home with no Judaica, and no erotica, but all these happy memories! Plus this tiny (1.5" high) Barbie wind-up sewing machine ($2). 

It works! When you turn the knob, the needle goes up and down and the silver wheel turns!

How Your Fabric Stash Can Improve Your Techno-Savvy, Increase Income, and Strengthen Marriage

It's not easy being a woman, and as if pantyhose, salpingo-oopherectomy, and unequal pay aren't bad enough, our better clothing lacks pockets.

Women have long complained about pocket deprivation, but today the stakes are vastly higher - pockets, it turns out, are essential to keeping up with the boys in technology (and therefore, pay), because that's where they keep their e-gadgets. My friend Teresa sent me this fascinating article called 'The Gender Politics of Pocket' in The Atlantic.

Solution: Use your quilting fabric stash to create and lengthen existing pockets! Or, Teresa found this site where you can buy premade pocket extenders: http://www.pocketforsmartphones.com/ - they're a cheap investment in your future, and the page has easy installation directions. Since I love polka dots, here's the one I'd buy:

) . 

And speaking of delightful fabric, your techno-savvy won't improve, but you will attract more brick-and-mortar friends if you wear disembodied celebrity heads. The maker, a creative young fiber artist named Erin Pearce, accepts commissions, and along with dresses,

...she also makes shirts and shorts from her custom fabric, and they're not too pricey. (Yes, that's Captain Picard of Star Trek.) I'd befriend anyone on the street dressed in early Picard (or Worf, or Cumberbatch).

What if your favorite celebrity is imaginary, and he's Superman? Make this.

Cindy, of Cation Designs, tells me she found the fabric from a thrift shop, and it was a....wait for it....bed sheet! (Obviously minimally slept on or laundered).  And - oh yes - it has pockets! (I asked!)

He wasn't exactly Superman, but I do have a lot of Elvis fabric, and I love making little scenes from it, like this one, blogged here:

But here's what I usually do with novelty fabrics: Make "Everything in the World" baby quilts. The top panel, among the clouds, has squares of sky stuff (planets, birds, cow jumping over the moon). There's all kinds of random things in the novelty fabric 9-patches below the sky - dogs, cats, elephants, berries, Mighty Mouse, Elvis, you name it.... 

And the bottom has sea-dwelling entities like ships and fish. 

Next, the story of an adorable husband and wife who dress in matching novelty fabric outfits: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2013/may/25/husband-and-wife-dressed-same-35-years.

This quirky habit adds depth to their marriage. Now if only I could persuade DH to wear one of these whenever I wear the other:

Left Worf and right Worf. With pockets, of course. Here's the matching quilt:

(Just kidding, I haven't made any of these things....yet....)

Surprising Quilts from Vintage Hexagons

When quilters think about antique hexagon quilts, here's the kind of thing that comes to mind:

I am guessing that this 1880 quiltmaker suffered a Victorian ailment which kept her bedridden, improved her vision and fine motor skills, and extended her lifespan.

When pieced accurately, hexagon quilts are a miracle; when pieced badly, which is easier, they're a ripply mess. Both are incredibly time-consuming. That's why unfinished hexagon tops and pieces - especially the wonky ones - are relatively cheap and abundant in flea markets and antique shops.

When I first became a quilter, and fell madly in love with vintage quilts, I went through an inevitable phase of collecting hexagonal tops and pieces, Here's one of my purchases:

The purchase is followed by inevitable wondering what to do with it, followed by inevitable realization of how enormous the task is, followed by inevitable stuffing them into a closet until I'm dead, which will inevitably be followed by my children giving them away so they end up in another flea market where another dewy-eyed young quiltmaker will fall in love with them and bring them home.

But wait! There is finally a book that can help interrupt the cycle of hexagonal heartbreak!

Mary Kerr, award-winning quilter and certified appraiser, had a similar appreciation of unfinished hexagon blocks and tops, but instead of merely hoarding them, she made unexpected quilts from them.

Her new book - I asked for a review copy - is "Recycled Hexie Quilts," from Schiffer Publishing, and it contains more than 100 photos of very wonderful quilts made from vintage hexagons, most of which break stereotypes and rules.

Kerr explains that hexagons have been in pieced quilts for at least 300 years. In the 20th century, hexagon piecing designs became known as Grandmother's Flower Garden.

The book shows some antique eyepoppers - like the first quilt at top of this post - but most of the photographs are of quilts Kerr made from old pieces and tops. She combines new fabrics with old,  cuts off hexagons at 90 degree angles (!), and places them  in unlikely locations, like borders, sashing, and setting squares. Most do not require the kind of time and skill needed to complete the top quilt on this page.

Here's "Mosaic Star," which has a Modern feeling, and requires only hundreds instead of tens of thousands of pieces:

And here's one with even fewer pieces, which means an even more Modern feeling - and guess what - it's FUSED to that black background! (Quilt police hair just caught fire!).

There's a whole chapter on fusing, and really, it's the perfect solution to damaged seams.

Here, almost randomly-cut hexagon quilt top segments become sashing and borders, and are combined with vintage ducks:

In the next quilt, "Roses for Opal," Kerr circled floral panels painted by her grandmother Opal, with  hexagons from the 1930s. The pink fabric is from the 1920s. "Mixing eras  just creates a more interesting piece and a much better story," Kerr says.  I think it also cuts the bubble gum sweetness to a degree that's just right.

Note that she refuses to fuss with the corners. We don't need no mitering! Symmetry is for sissies!

If you don't happen to have vintage duck or floral panels lying around, buy a brand spanking new  jelly roll instead and make one of these, combining log cabin with hexagons:

Kerr used a Moda Jelly Roll, but if you Google "pastel fabric jelly roll" you'll come up with lots of options.

The next quilt, "Lancaster," is brilliant - a Grandmother's Flower Garden top cut into diamonds, and joined with a sashing, for an effect that's remniscent of a traditional Japanese art motif.

And finally, to PROVE that hexagon quilts don't have to be a lifetime of work, and can be Modern/Gee's Bend, there's this:

It's a large 1940s hexagon fused asymmetrically onto a vintage tablecloth.

And there's a much, much more in the book. If you have your own stash of vintage hexagons, this is just what you need to inspire yourself to give them new life.  Thanks, Mary Kerr, for writing a great and useful book!

If you'd like to win a copy of the book straight from the Schiffer Publishing, please leave a comment, (maybe about your perspective on hexagons?) and I will use a random number generator to select and announce a winner on April 10, 2015. A random number generator chose our winner - congratulations Quiltshopgal!

PS One more idea: Here's a blog post from a couple of years ago about something I did with orphan blocks, combining them with Terrie Mangat fabric gew-gaws.

(UPDATE: Here's a link to an utterly astonishing hexagon quilt from 1940 with 58,640 pieces.)

The 'Elvis' Altered Toy Sewing Machine

A long time ago, in the early days of the Internet, I started reading about toy sewing machines online. This was a mistake. TSMs are worse than crack. Just a few pictures, and I was hooked.   

Collecting toy sewing machines is the wrong hobby for people like me who love flea markets, thrift shops, and garage sales. In the real world (outside of cyberspace), TSMs - especially the old and charming ones - are rare. Maybe 1 in every 75 visits to a flea market. Years go by between live sightings. When I do meet one in the real world, if it is old, interesting and in decent condition, the price is usually quite high,upwards of $200. Strangely, vintage toys cost much more than vintage full-size sewing machines.

Novice desperation explains why, early in my addiction, when I saw a plain white plastic chainstitch machine at a flea market, I bought it. Though completely devoid of charm, it was small, clean and MIB (mint in box). I think I paid less than $20.  

I brought it home, popped in some batteries, and it didn't work. Total buyer's remorse.  

Then it occurred to me: I could alter it! Correction - this was long before I'd heard the terms 'altered book,' or 'altered art.' So what I actually thought to myself was probably along the lines of: "I'll Mod Podge it!" 

I pulled out my rare, high quality Elvis-themed cotton quilting fabric, and went to town with the Mod Podge, the glue gun, the trim and the tchotchkes (little sparkly things). 

Though the front image shows young Elvis, I went more with the mood of late-Elvis-in-sparkly-white-jumpsuit ("one of the most recreated costumes in history"). There's a dangly pearl ball trim around the base, silver sequins, and shiny buttons and button covers.  

I created a spool of iridescent sequins for the top of the machine. Along the top edge of the machine, there's silver-embellished blue rick-rack. 

Elvis is adoringly gazed upon by a 50's princess/debutante (Ann-Margaret?), in white gloves and gown. His crown is a former button cover.

In all the background areas, there are more clear iridescent sequins. 

Now the machine is no longer 100% completely useless! See those three pins? The machine base is covered with silver-dot-embellished-white tulle, with batting underneath, so it actually functions as a pincushion. 

 Here's the head-on view.

 

In conclusion, my friends, do you have a useless, broken, charm-free, not-worth-repairing, sewing machine? Consider altering it! (And send me pics!)

PS More creative quilt/art oriented ideas are at Nina Marie Sayre's Off the Wall Fridays:  http://ninamariesayre.blogspot.com/