Quilt Store Archaeology

Cutting fat quarters and trimming bolts often involves narrow strips of fabric which are not needed or are waste.  When we cut FQs, instead of opening the folded half-meter to cut it in half, we simply place the ruler as close to the closed fold as possible and trim that off, leaving us with two pieces approximately 20'' x 22".  When the edge of a new bolt is ragged, we cut a straight line perpendicular to both selvedge and fold to straighten that edge. 
     All of the narrow folds and the ragged bolt-end strips go into a glass container that sits on the cutting table.  Since the container is transparent, it's possible to see layers that reflect our activities.
  In geology, layers of rock are formed over thousands and millions of years.  Scientists can use them to learn about the long physical history of our planet, for example, whether rock formed from cooling volcanic lava or from pressure on a former sandy seabed.  In archaeology, layers form as new societies build homes and other structures on top of where previous inhabitants lived.  These come to be over hundreds or thousands of years.
  The summer I was 19 I worked on an archaeological dig in Israel, in the Negev desert.  The oldest layers were believed to be the site of an Old Testament story in which Jacob met Rachel at a well by which stood seven trees.  At least, I think that's the story, but I am now a long way from my teenage years.  Anyway, there was evidence of buildings and also of seven trees.
  The site was laid out on a grid, and as I was there during the sixth of a planned 7-year excavation, much digging had already taken place.  There were many rectangular holes in the ground, with straight sides and fairly flat bottoms.  These were separated by narrow dirt and stone walls.  My job was to sit in the bottom of one of these holes and sift through the dirt, searching for pieces of pottery, coins, bones, and anything else that might indicate signs of the former lives that were lived here.  The deeper I dug, the older the artifacts were.  When I had sifted through enough dirt to fill one bucket with the sifted sand, and another with those items I'd found, I'd call up and someone above would lower a rope with a hook on it, to raise the bucket, empty it, and return it to me.
   While this was interesting, the Israeli summer desert was very hot, as muc as 120 degrees, which is hot in either temperature scale.  We slept in tents and each morning we had to check our boots for scorpions.  We rose at 5 a.m. and went straight to work while it was cooler.  We at breakfast at 9, and then worked until noon, at which time it was too hot to be out in the sun.  Afternoons were spent sorting and cataloging the artifacts that had been found.  But doing all this was worthwhile, as it enabled us to learn about human history.
    Fortunately, learning about quilt store history is much easier.  There's no risk of sunburn, and no creatures, especially no poisonous ones, involved.  However, just as geological and archaeological layers indicate age and information about the forces that formed them, our cutting table jar also provides much insight.
   Sometimes we cut FQs from new bolts of fabric, but we also try to always have at least three or four cut and on the shelf from each bolt in the store, as many people like to buy FQs instead of yardage.  What can we learn about what was cut from the above photo?
  As in the other areas discussed above, the lower the layer in the jar, the older the event that formed it.  With quilt store archaeology we are looking at formations that develop over days or a few weeks, instead of millenia.  The information is no less revealing, though, of the social  and historical constructs of a quilt store.
  At the bottom of the jar, we can see a layer that includes a number of colours, including pink, blue, green and yellow.  A closer investigation reveals that none of these strips have any textures, meaning they come from bolts of solid-coloured fabric.  The strips are narrow, and so must come from cutting FQs.  The existence of several colours could mean that these FQs were cut from new bolts, or from ones already on the shelves for which the FQ number had dropped to none, one, or two.  Through careful sifting, I was able to determine that are either two or four strips of each colour.  That means that these came from FQS cut from bolts already present, as when bolts are new, we always cut six FQs.
  Let us now examine the next layer.  There is a variety of darker blue strips, and perhaps a couple of black ones, although determination of this would require taking the above photo to a lab, or at least to Photoshop, for further analysis of an enlarged image.  This shows us that whoever was cutting the solids' FQs observed that many of the darker blue fabrics, and we usually have at least three or four dark blues, were popular and so there was a greater shortage of their fat quarters than, perhaps, of other colours.
   The next layer up holds many wider strips with one ragged edge.  This demonstrates conclusively that the next person cutting was dealing with several new bolts, all of which were white, off-white, or tone-on-tone in these shades.
  Above this informative and scientifically exciting layer is one of narrow strips, denoting FQs again, most in turquoises and teals.  The data leads me to hypothesize that these were from bolts already in the store, rather than from new bolts, as this layer is found between two layers of wider strips.  The fact that there are no wider strips from the blues could mean that these bolts, when new, arrived with straight edges, but this is highly unlikely, based on previous experience.  They must therefore be from bolts on the shelves.
  The wider strips above are white and pale brown, and close examination reveals that both edges of the strips are straight.  They can't be from new bolts.  A detailed consideration of options is necessary.  Strips this narrow aren't usually cut on purpose, and if these had been, they would not be found in the jar.  They must have come from cutting blocks for our Saturday Surprise (Periwinkle's version of a Block of the Month, only in our case it's a Block of the Every Two Weeks) or from making a kit.  Much further study is needed before we can learn everything possible from this layer.

And there you have it - a fascinating study of activity in a quilt store.

In case any of you are curious, and want to know why we bother saving all these strips, I will tell you.  Aside from their priceless historical data, they are used in a number of ways.  When the jar is full, we put the strips in a plastic bag and put it out in the foyer, marked 'Free."  The bags always disappear.  People knit or weave with them.  They can become fringes.  I've couched them onto landscapes, for example put blue ones in wavy lines on top of the fabric I'm using for water.  There are many more uses, and if you know of any, please comment here to let me know!
 
 

Fat Quarters

Yesterday, I cut over 250 fat quarters.  This means I dealt with over 62 meters of fabric.  And since I was cutting four FQs from each bolt, I dealt with over 62 bolts.
  Many of the jobs we do involve cutting fabric.  When a new bolt of fabric comes in, we trim the edge and cut six fat quarters.  We cut up fabric for kits, too, as well as for customers.  Sometimes we cut ribbon, and other embellishments.
  What is a fat quarter?  It's a quarter meter of fabric, but there are two ways to cut this.

The first photo above is a fat quarter.  To cut this, I cut a twenty-inch piece off a bolt and then cut it in half along the fold line.  Most fabrics on bolts are about 45" wide.  This amount in folded roughly (sometimes very roughly and so cutting FQs requires making adjustments) in half, so the width of the fabric on the bolt is about 22.5 inches wide.  While Americans use yards, or 36" of fabric, here in Canada we use meters.  At Periwinkle, we use a 40 inch meter, instead of the accurate 39 inches, because this makes the math so much easier.  Our FQs, therefor, are approximately 20" X 22".
  To cut a regular quarter meter, we cut a ten-inch strip from the bolt, and this is shown in the second photo above.  You can see its a much skinnier piece than the fat quarter, even though the area of each is the same mount.  This cut can be more useful than a fat quarter if you need strips, or pieces of certain widths.  FQs are more common, though, as they are very flexible, and many patterns are designed for them.
  So why did I cut so many?  Is this a typical day?  No, it's not.  Cutting FQs is a contant  job, because we need to keep up with them, and make sure there are always three or four on the shelves from each bolt.  We replace them as they are bought, and so we keep a constant eye on what is available.  We aren't perfect at this, though.  Sometimes we are very busy for days on end, and of course assisting customers is our highest priority.  But we do cut at least a few on most days.
  Yesterday there was a major blizzard here.  We discovered that quilters are determined people and tough Canadians. as we still saw close to 40 people in the store during the day, as the wind howled and snow piled up in drifts against the back doors.  Which reminds me, shoveling has become a regular job, too!
  It was still slower than usual for a Saturday and so Jackie and I decided to make sure there were fat quarters from all of our sale fabrics, whach are all half-price.  We discovered that many bolts had none at all available in the $2.50 FQ bin.  Jackie cleverly sorted all the FQs in that bin, to organize them, but also to learn what was there.  That way, as I brought armfuls of bolts over to the cutting table, she could tell if we needed them or if they already had their FQs.  And so there was rarely a time during the snowy day that we didn't have teetering piles of bolts on the sides of the cutting table, waiting for when we had time to cut.
  Cutting that much, you learn the value of a rotary cutter and a good sharp blade, I can tell you!

Always Something to Do

There is always something to do at the quilt store. 
  Here are some things I do:

Cheerleader - we love it when customers bring in their quilts to show us.  However there is a curious behavior among quilters - when someone compliments a quilt we have made, we tend to to point out its flaws.  "That seam doesn't match," we might say, or, "I cut off my points when I put that border on."
  Can you imagine men doing this, when they talk about their woodworking?  "Oh," a guy might say.  "Look at the scratch on the back side of that bookshelf.  And see here, my dovetail joint isn't very dovetailed.  No dove could fly with that tail!"
  I find myself doing this all the time, even when I am on the lookout for it and am determined not to do it.  I don't know if quilters put our work down because we are women or if it's something else.  Many women feel it's immodest or worse to accept accolades.  I think for me, at least, it's a lack of confidence.  How can I claim my work is good, or even agree when someone else thinks it is, when I know about all the mistakes I made?
  Still, there was a time when women had more confidence in their quilting.  I own a couple of antique quilts, in which a deliberate mistake was made, because "Only God creates perfection."  This attitude has always seemed a bit arrogant to me, because it assumes that without the deliberate error, the quilt would be perfect.  I don't have to worry about that!

  When it comes to other people's work, I prefer to see the best in it.  I am a cheerleader, hoping to raise the quilter's enthusiasm for her work and for the craft of quilting.  I am never being phony, if you come in the store and I talk about all the things I love about your quilt.  There is always much to love, more, perhaps, than you know.

Confessor - Tying into the above job is this one.  Some people, when they point out their mistakes, do it in a hushed tone, as if afraid that saying it too loudly would mean the whole world might learn of their sin.  There is no reason to be ashamed of a mistake.  The only way to learn anything, to become better at it, is to push ourselves to try new things.  And trying new things means learning new skills.  Learning involves practice.  Practice, by definition, means taking something that is not perfect and working to make it better.  Every quilt you make means the next one you make will be better.  My job in the store is to give everyone permission to try something new, or do something old in a new way.  Or to keep doing one thing until you have learned all you can from it.  You don't need forgiveness or penance for making a mistake.  You just need to accept that a handmade item, even if made on a sewing machine, will show something of the person who made it.
  And besides, a mistake made once might be an ooops, but made twice it is a design element.  Right?

Design Assistant -This is one of my favourite jobs - helping people select fabrics for a project.   Choosing the right colours and textures can be a lengthy and intimidating process, especially early in a quilter's career.  It requires the ability to visualize what bolts of fabric will look like together once they are cut up and sewn together.  A few people have an inborn ability to do this, but for most of us, it comes with experience
  The challenge for those of us working in the store is to help customers select the colours they like, and not the ones we like.  My tendency when choosing for my own projects is to go for bright colours and high contrast.  I've learned a lot from the customers, though.  Sometimes they select colours I would never have thought of using together, but they look fabulous.  This situation is never good for my bank account, as I usually have to get some fabrics in those colours to try out myself!
   Helping people find what they like means being a good listener and observing body language, useful skills in all areas of life.

One of the true pleasure of working in a quilt store has been meeting the many and varied quilters, and getting to know then through their quilts.  Thank you to everyone who has been a part of this!

Welcome to the Quilt Store

  

      My name is Judy Berlyne McCrosky, and I am a fabriholic.
"Hello, Judy."
     I freely accept that there are things I cannot change, and my love of quilting is one of them.  I have also accepted that this is something I have no wish to change.  Quilting brings colour, texture, shapes, and design into my creative life.  The hum of the sewing machine, the feel of fabric between my fingers, the joy of colours that come alive when placed with other colours, the satisfaction of a perfect quarter-inch seam, and of points that are actually pointy, all these feed my soul in ways I didn't realize were lacking.  And, since I have a writing career also, quilting brings serentiy and confidence because, as a friend who also writes and quilts once pointed out, "No one rejects a quilt."
     Pieces of writing, when submitted to publishers, get rejected.  It's a fact of life for the vast majority of writers.  Quilts, on the other hand, always are accepted with joy when given, and are lovingly used.  Actually, I did have one quilt rejected, by my daughter, but that's a post for another day.
      The above photo is me buried in molas.  Molas are a form of fibre art from Panama, and the ones shown above are only a very small portion of my fabric stash.  Looking at my stash makes me happy.  There are so many ideas nestled among the piles of different fabrics.  The stacks folded by my friend Alice are neat, edges aligned, each piece easily visible, sorted by colour or type of fabric.  The ones folded by me are more of a jumble, but that's ok.  As Alice kindly pointed out, my talents lie in areas different from creating perfect quarter-inch seams, pointy points, and neatness.
   Now that I have revealed my addiction to the world, I will tell you something else.  I work in a quilt store, Periwinkle Quilting, in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada.  This means that all of the time at work I am surrounded by fabric, and even worse, by enablers.  Enablers are not only the other staff I work with, but the customers, too.  They keep coming in, buying things to make amazing projects.  Even worse, they bring in their finished or partially-completed projects to show us.  The fact that we staff all love seeing their projects doesn't make containing our addictions any easier to bear.  The customers use patterns I haven't seen before, or in new ways, and they use colours and fabrics together in ways I have never thought of doing.  Then, of course, I have to try something with that pattern, or those colours, myself.
  Quilting has brought a great deal of joy into my life.  Working in the store has enhanced my quilting in all sorts of ways.  The other staff, the customers, the students in the classes I teach, all have much to share.
  I want to share all I have learned and been given with you.  This blog will be a warm and humourous look at the quilting world, as seen through the eyes of a quilt store employee.  And if in writing this blog, I feed your quilting addiction, I am glad.