We all have them. Sometimes they’re leftover from quilt making. We may find them on the free table at guild meeting or purchase them from an estate sale. What am I talking about? Orphan blocks.
Orphan blocks are those quilt blocks which are either left over from making a quilt or have never put into a quilt. I have blocks in my stash from both. Sometimes you accidentally make too many blocks, or you’ve made all the blocks for a quilt but then decide to make the quilt smaller than what the pattern calls for, so you don’t use all the blocks. I’ve got a box of orphan blocks that came from quilters who have passed away or became unable to quilt any longer. Sometimes you can look at these blocks and almost immediately come up with a plan for them. Other times, it’s harder. But if you’re like most quilters, you just can’t bring yourself to throw them away. After all, someone put a lot of time, effort, and talent into these blocks. It would be a shame to just toss them. So what do you do?
I’ll be honest. My favorite way to use them is to sandwich them up and practice quilting on my domestic sewing machine. It’s one thing to be comfortable dropping your feed dogs and quilting, but it’s another thing to know how to quilt a block. Orphan quilt blocks are a wonderful way to practice designs on half-square triangles, flying geese, four patches, etc. In addition, orphan blocks also help you learn how to handle bulky seams. But I know not everyone quilts on their domestic machines, so that idea won’t work for some folks. In this blog, I want to give some creative orphan block ideas so instead of just hanging out in your quilt room with no clear purpose, your orphan blocks can be transformed into beautiful creations.
Before you begin, there are a couple of steps you probably want to take.
Take inventory of your blocks. Take some time to evaluate your orphan block stash and determine if you want to make one large quilt or several smaller projects such as table runners or baby quilts.
Consider the size of the blocks. Smaller blocks may be better suited for mug rugs or other small projects, while larger blocks may be considered for a quilt (if there are enough blocks) or table runners or quilt backs (if there are only a few blocks).
Think about colors and fabrics. If you have several blocks made out of different fabrics, could you make a scrappy quilt? Or would you rather take all the coordinating blocks and make one smaller project out of them?
Evaluate the blocks. Some blocks may be better suited for individual projects such as potholders or pillows, while others may be perfect for a quilt.
Evaluate the condition of the blocks. Orphan blocks can come into you life in many ways. You may have made them yourself and you know your blocks are good, quality blocks. But the other orphan blocks may have come to you via an estate sale, as a gift, or from an antique store. Look for loose seams, fairly even edges, and uniform size. If the blocks are stained or reek of cigarette smoke, you will want to make plans for them to have a long soak in the sink, lay them flat to dry, and then give them a good press.
Block inventory and evaluation done, now it’s time to plan your project. If your blocks are small or you only have a few of them:
This is a pattern I ordered from Timeless Traditions. It’s easy to see if you had a three orphan blocks, it would be super easy to fit them into this pattern.
Mug Rugs: Single blocks or small groupings of block can be used to make mug rugs.
Table Runners: Several blocks can be stitched together, along with some sashing and borders, to create a table runner, especially if the blocks are 10 to 12-inches in size.
Doll Quilts: Smaller, more intricate blocks can be used to make doll quilts. Depending on the size doll quilt desired, some borders and sashing may need to be added.
Pillows: Orphan blocks can be used to make pillows, either individually or in a patchwork design.
Potholders and Trivets: Quilt leftovers can be used to make a potholder. If the orphan block is large enough, you can make a trivet.
If you have larger blocks, and you have several of them:
Quilt Backs: Orphan blocks can be used to create a patchwork design for the back of the quilt, or even as a quilt label. This takes a little creative “mathing” to know how to cut out the back, but those blocks really do make the back look stunning. Personally, I think this makes you have a reversible quilt.
Charity Quilts: If you don’t have enough blocks to make a big quilt, consider making a smaller quilt and donating it to a charity. There are lots of organizations that accept these small quilts (such as Project Linus). Just do a little internet sleuthing and find a charity you’d like to donate your quilt to.
Crazy Quilts: Orphan blocks can be used in a crazy quilt, along with other scraps to blend the edges.
Scrap Quilts: These blocks, combined with scraps and leftovers from your stash, can create a wonderful scrap quilt. Just be sure to throw in a neutral (such as white) to make all the colors play nicely together.
I made the blocks surrounding the applique medallion for a group project. With a little creative mathing I managed to put those orphan blocks into a lap quilt. Fortunately I had several yards of coordinating fabrics. This was the first quilt I quilted on my long arm.
Other Ideas
Tote Bags and Purses: Individual blocks or blocks sewn together can be used to make small tote bags or purses.
Wall Hangings: If you have enough similar blocks, you could sew these together for a wall hanging.
Scarf: By cutting the orphan blocks into strips and sewing them together, you can create a really interesting patchwork scarf.
Sew Them on Clothing: The last couple of years have shown an interesting trend in clothing. Some folks are using embroidery stitches to mend holes in jeans and shirts. Why not join in this fad by adding a small orphan block or two to a shirt, a jacket, or your jeans?
This jacket is from WeallSew. It’s a great example of how orphan blocks and some scrap fabric can be used to dress up a jean jacket. I’ve tinkered with this idea a time or two and have discovered than worn jean jackets are easier to work with than new ones. If you don’t have an old jean jacket in your closet, try shopping at a Thrift Store.
And if none of these suggestions are remotely appealing, donate them back. Senior Centers, quilt guilds, or other quilty organizations may love to have your orphan blocks to use. There is no shame in this game. It keeps the blocks out of the landfill.
The point is, for this blog, keep things moving. I know it’s difficult to throw a perfectly good quilt block in the trash can. You think about the time, energy, and talent it took to make the block(s) and you just can’t toss it. So, if you’re like me, you tuck it away somewhere thinking you’ll make a few more blocks to go with it and make a small quilt. Once put away, it’s easy to forget about the block and it languishes in a tote, drawer, or box somewhere. Instead of putting that block in “quilt jail,” go ahead and repurpose it into something beautiful and useful.
And just plain “flat-out stealing” as my paternal grandmother would say.
If you think I’m describing the next John Clancy book, you’re wrong. I’m describing the early world of quilting…more or less.
To understand the history of quilting, you must have a foundational knowledge in textile production. Part of that knowledge is understanding the chemical process of dying fabric and how valuable that was. Were quilters directly involved in this shady side of quilting? Probably not, unless their husbands were involved in textile production. Did they benefit from it? Absolutely.
And before any of my United States readers clutch their pearls and murmur, “Not us again,” no, it wasn’t us. This was strictly a European tryst. While the United States grew plenty of cotton and spun it into thread, we didn’t begin weaving any cotton thread into cloth (with the exception of home looms) until the late 18th Century. It seems England had some serous issues with us knowing how to weave our own fabric. While they were happy to buy our cotton, and even our spun thread, they made it illegal for anyone in England to teach Americans how to weave fabric on industrial looms or share the process via letters or drawings. It took an English immigrant, Samual Slater, to break the weaving bottleneck in 1790.
Samuel Slater
The fight between England, France, Turkey, and India took place long before then, and it was more about dyes than fabric manufacturing.
But I’m getting a little ahead of the story. For as long as there has been fabric, people have wanted to change its color. Regular cotton thread woven into material produces a beige-ish color material. People – from garment makers to quilters – longed for color and contrast. At the start of the colorless-to-colorful journey there were natural dyes. Flowers, vegetables, and roots were used to produce a variety of natural dyes to color fabric. These worked fairly well, but they did have a couple of problematic characteristics. First, natural dyes were not colorfast. They would fade over time and as a result of washing. Second, natural dyes weren’t consistent. Sure, a batch of onion skins may result in a lovely yellow color, but one batch of fabric dyed with onion skins may slightly (or not so slightly) differ from another batch of fabric dyed with them. Fabric manufacturers wanted consistency. They wanted ease. They wanted beautifully dyed fabric.
And they wanted it cheap.
This could only be developed through the use of synthetic dyes – dyes produced in a chemistry lab and not from the kitchen. This finally happened on August 26, 1856. William Henry Perkins was working in a chemistry lab at the Royal College of Chemistry over the Christmas holidays. His boss had given him a task: Find a synthetic form of quinine. Quinine was an essential medicine in the treatment of malaria, which was usually deadly. The natural form of quinine was difficult and costly to extract. If a synthetic form could be found, it could be produced in abundance at a much lower cost, leading to more lives saved from the deadly disease. Perkins was conducting experiments with aniline, a colorless, odorless oil derived from coal tar – which was also found in abundance. Through the process of the experiments, he oxidized the aniline by using potassium dichromate. This produced a black substance that, when the black color was removed, dyed silk purple.
Perkin’s Mauve
Boom. The first synthetic dye was produced. Perkins called the color mauve and named the synthetic dye mauvine. He filed for a patent and mauvine became one of the first synthetic dyes to become mass produced.
Purple is a lovely color. It’s one of my favorites. But what the textile industry really wanted was a bright, clear red and green. Green was the one color that, despite leaves, grass, and a hundred other green plants, could not be produced well by a natural dye. Cloth had to be dyed blue and then dyed yellow over top of the blue to produce green. This green was typically called over dyed green because it was dyed twice. However, the process showed issues over time. If you look at some antique red and green quilts, sometimes the areas which should be a deep green – such as vines, leaves, and stems – have faded into a light tan or khaki color, blue, or a lime green. The over dyed greens didn’t last.
But red… it seemed as if every fabric manufacturer wanted a bright, clear red. No matter what they had to do get it. Pay exorbitant sums. Steal trade secrets. Kidnap dyers. No deed was too shady, and no price was too high.
For years, the color Turkey Red ruled the roost (see I made a poultry joke there). It was the Pantone color of several decades. No other color has influenced both garment and quilt making more than this color. Everyone wanted cloth in the bright, cherry red.
Original Turkey Red
The problem with Turkey Red (which is named after the country of Turkey, not the Thanksgiving centerpiece), is its unique dying process, which was long and costly. The fabric production of this red began in India and moved west to the region around Turkey and Greece known as the Levant. The complex dying process could involve as many as 17 steps, with many steps repeated multiple times. Until the process was refined, it could take as many as 25 days to produce this color on cotton fabrics. This is one “recipe” for the dye:
1. Boil cotton in lye of Barilla or wood ash
2. Wash and dry
3. Steep in a liquor of Barilla ash or soda plus sheep’s dung and olive oil
4. Rinse, let stand 12 hours, dry
5. Repeat steps 3 and 4 three times.
6. Steep in a fresh liquor of Barilla ash or soda, sheep’s dung, olive oil and white argol (potassium tartrate).
7. Rinse and dry
8. Repeat steps 6 and 7 three times.
9. Treat with gall nut solution
10. Wash and dry
11. Repeat steps 9 and 10 once.
12. Treat with a solution of alum, or alum mixed with ashes and Saccharum Saturni (lead acetate).
13. Dry, wash, dry.
14. Madder once or twice with Turkey madder to which a little sheep’s blood is added.
15. Wash
16. Boil in a lye made of soda ash or the dung liquor
17. Wash and dry.
I know Halloween is long gone, but somehow I feel if you threw in Eye of Newt and Toe of Frog, no one in the dye house would be surprised. And reading it makes you incredibly thankful for synthetic dyes because there is no way OSHA or anyone else would allow red fabric to be made this way. However, one interesting thought to tuck away is this: Turkey Red was color fast. Some of today’s red fabric, even made with the best synthetic dye, is not.
As gross as the “recipe” is (and this is not the only formula for Turkey Red fabric dye), these dye methods were closely and religiously guarded by those involved. Overall, the 17th century European palate was drab and faded. The brightness of a red was deeply coveted by dye makers, but the Europeans knew it would be hard to obtain the formula. They could either A) Keep testing their own theories until they stumbled on the right formula, or B) Discover the existing formula for Turkey Red.
They opted for option B. And they would do just about anything to get it. Spies were sent to Levant to learn about the tedious, time-consuming dying process. Unfortunately for the spies, things did not work out too well. Europe had to continue to import red yarn from Turkey and red fabric from India through the first half of the 18th century.
Finally in 1747 the French had had enough. They enticed bribed dyers from Greece to teach them the Turkey Red dying process. Once the recipe was revealed, Europeans could successfully dye yarn the bright, clear red color. Only the Europeans took things up a notch – they added alizarin (taken from the root of the Madder plant) and used chemical alum to fix the dye. They threw those two ingredients in with the regular Turkey Red recipe. Along with these improvements, they also discovered they could produce a much brighter, consistently red fabric if they dyed the yarns and then wove the yarns into fabric instead of weaving the fabric and then dying it. By 1765, woven Turkey Red cloth production was in full swing in France, England, Scotland, and Holland. By the 19th century, they also had developed a way to dye fabric Turkey Red and keep a consistent color.
When Turkey Red Was Not Enough
For a while, solid red fabric was great. Everybody in Europe (and by this time America) was in love with it. Besides, printing anything on this fabric seemed virtually impossible, as the oils used in the dying process would not allow additional dyes to penetrate the cloth. In 1810, Daniel Kochelin, a textile printer from Mulhouse, France, developed a method to discharge print on Turkey Red. He bleached out the red color in a certain motif and replaced the bleached color with black or blue, and eventually yellow. By 1815, multiple color prints on Turkey Red were available.
These printed red fabrics were a huge hit throughout the European region and were seen in garments and household linens. Manufacturers in England, France, and Scotland began to export both solid and printed Turkey Red fabric to the United States, Africa, and the Middle East. England and Scotland also exported the fabric to India. By the early 1830’s, exports of the cloth to the United States were almost nonstop. Boatloads of solid and printed Turkey Red fabrics arrived in American ports, and they were quickly consumed. Quiltmakers, dressmakers, and the home sewist fell in love with the vivid and colorfast quality and were willing to pay a premium for the bright red fabrics. Quilters especially loved the small-scale floral and geometric prints and used them primarily in applique. By 1840, red and white quilts were all the rage and this trend lasted for about 40 years.
By 1868, a synthetic version of the alizarin Turkey Red dye was invented, which lowered the price of the fabric and ushered in a second craze of Turkey red and white quilt making. Respective to quilters in their own regions, European textile manufacturers also catered specifically to the quilting market by printing whole cloth panels and “cheater” cloth patchwork fabric motifs in the last half of the 19th century.
In the early 20th century, an even less costly synthetic Turkey Red dye was available around the same time that the color’s use in quilts expanded to include embroidery work comprised of subjects (such as Sunbonnet Sue) and signatures with red thread on white fabric. Used in various motifs and techniques, Turkey Red and white remained a popular color combination among quilt makers throughout the early 20th century.
It’s Not Easy Being Green (Apologies to Kermit the Frog)
Green dye has a history even worse (to a degree) than Turkey Red. A clear, bright green dye was just as much desired as a red one. And while nature abounds with green, a natural green dye wasn’t pretty, nor was it colorfast. In the Middle Ages, leaves and berries were used and the chlorophyll they produced gave a muddy green color, but it wasn’t colorfast at all. Eventually these early dyers came upon the Rubber Ratbrush and used the bark from this plant along with stinging nettle to make a reasonably better green dye, but it would still fade with time, exposure to light, and washing.
Greens from the Middle Ages
Somewhere around the 16th century, dyers decided to forgo looking for a green dye and instead rely on what they knew – if you mixed blue and yellow, you got green. So at first they would dye the fabric blue and then dye it a second time with yellow (thus the name overdyed greens). Eventually dyers came up the formula of Prussian Blue and Chrome yellow. Those two dyes produced a bright green, however depending on how colorfast the blue or yellow was, the fabric could fade to either a tannish hue or lime green.
Scheele’s Green
It wasn’t until 1778 that the Swedish chemist Karle Scheele developed a synthetic green dye, but it used copper arsenic as part of the formula. The green was very popular – it could be found in everything from paint to wallpaper to fabric – but as with all things arsenic, it was very poisonous. As more people became sick (and some died), the deaths and sickness were traced back to Scheele’s green. Most of this green has been destroyed, but some larger museums with a textile preservation division still may have a few of the garments. Green largely fell out of favor until the 1930’s and 1940’s and by then a non-poisonous, synthetic green dye was discovered.
To be fair to Scheele — fabric, wallpaper, and paint, did use his arsenic dye. However the real culprit in the deaths attributed to his green were bakers, confectioners, and bartenders who used the green color in food and drink production. One confectioner made a batch of lozenges using Scheele’s green that killed 15 people. And other synthetic dyes also used arsenic in their production, but not the large amount needed to produce green.
What Did This Mean to American Quilt Making?
Strangely enough, American dyers and fabric producers never really jumped on board of the Turkey Red train. They were content to import those goods from Europe, primarily Scotland, until after the Civil War, and Turkey Red remained a popular color with quilters until about 1940.
Paris Green
By the end of the 19th century, Paris Green had replaced Scheele’s green, but it was equally as poisonous. This green was banned in 1960. Today we use Pigment Green 7, 50, and 36. All three of these greens have a variety of toxins, but they’re not quite as harmful as the Paris or Scheele’s green. As far as fabrics go, manufacturers can use natural, vegetable dyes, but the issues with those remain the same as the Middle Ages – they’re not colorfast and they fade. Fabric producers are more likely to use an acid, sulfur, or reactive dye, which are, overall, pretty safe.
I hope you’ve enjoyed this little trip into the “shadier” side of fabric and quilt making. Chances are, as you’re pulling fabric for you next quilt, you never think of fabric production as cutthroat or full of espionage. But back then, even as now, corporate proprietary secrets are kept under lock and key.
It was a typical summer day in Philadelphia on July 4, 1776. There was a light breeze and Founding Father Thomas Jefferson recorded a high temperature of 76 degrees. A high-pressure system was rotating off to the Atlantic and a low-pressure system was pushing in behind it. Sunny skies and light winds. A wonderful, sunny, summer day.
Jefferson was in Philadelphia with other delegates for the Continental Congress. He had been there since June. And while we tend to think of everything concerning the United States independence happening in one big swoop on July 4th, it didn’t. The revolution had actually begun in 1775, with not so much as the idea of breaking away from England, but reconciling with our British counterparts. By June 1776, delegates to the Continental Congress realized reconciliation was not possible. The colonies and England were at an impasse. On June 7, 1776, Richard Henry Lee introduced a resolution “that these united colonies are and of right ought to be free and independent states.” They appointed a Committee of Five to write an announcement explaining the reasons for independence. Thomas Jefferson, who chaired the committee and had established himself as a bold and talented political writer, wrote the first draft.
Here’s a fact about first drafts. They’re never perfect. Even my little blog usually undergoes three re-writes.
The announcement of independence was technically not really an original concept. Jefferson borrowed freely from existing documents like the Virginia Declaration of Rights and incorporated accepted ideals of the Enlightenment. He later explained that “he was not striving for originality of principal or sentiment.” Instead, he hoped his words served as an “expression of the American mind.” He presented the first draft to the Continental Congress who promptly edited it. Jefferson claimed they mangled it.
Independence was declared by the Continental Congress on July 2, 1776. It took until July 4th for the delegates to ratify the Declaration of Independence. John Dunlap, official printer to Congress, worked through the night to set the Declaration in type and print approximately 200 copies. These copies, known as the Dunlap Broadsides, were sent to various committees, assemblies, and commanders of the Continental troops. The Dunlap Broadsides weren’t signed, but John Hancock’s name appears in large type at the bottom. One copy crossed the Atlantic, reaching King George III months later. The official British response scolded the “misguided Americans” and “their extravagant and inadmissible Claim of Independency”.
History tells us we weren’t cowered by England’s rebuttal. From 1775 (before independence was declared) until 1783 we fought – most of the times under the bleakest conditions. Finally Lord Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown. The British went back to England, and we set about making a new country.
Fifty Years Later
John Quincy Adams was now President. He wrote that it was a day when “every heart was bounding with joy and every voice was turned to gratulation”. In towns and villages around the country, celebrations began with the ringing of village bells, the display of the National flag and the salute of 50 guns. Parades included veterans of the war. In the town of Flemington, Revolutionary War veterans “were given badges of broad white ribbon, stamped with the American Eagle, and the words and figures ‘Survivors of 1776,’ [which] were affixed to the left buttonhole of their coats.”
And while the country celebrated, Thomas Jefferson – the man who wrote the original draft of the Declaration of independence — and John Adams – the man who eloquently defended it in the Continental Congress– quietly passed away within two hours of each other.
Centennial Celebrations
Philadelphia, the place where the Declaration of independence and our Constitution were written, hosted the largest celebration of the 100th anniversary of the Declaration. Ten years in the planning, the Centennial Exposition cost more than $11 million and covered more than 450 acres of Philadelphia’s Fairmount Park. President Ulysses S. Grant opened the exposition on May 10, 1876, and over the next six months more than 10 million people viewed the works of 30,000 exhibitors.
All across the country, other towns and cities celebrated the Declaration of Independence’s birthday with parades and picnics. And quilters back then were not so different than we are today – they made quilts. This quilt from Connecticut celebrated the event:
Vendors from other countries sold or gave away bandannas with flags of their respective countries printed on them. Some women took these and made them into quilts like this one:
Bicentennial Celebration
Plans for the 200th birthday of the Declaration of Independence actually began in 1966. Congress created the American Revolution Bicentennial Commission on July 4, 1966. Initially, the Bicentennial celebration was planned as a single city exposition (titled Expo ’76) that would be staged in either Philadelphia or Boston. After 6½ years of tumultuous debate, the Commission recommended that there should not be a single event, and Congress dissolved it on December 11, 1973, and created the American Revolution Bicentennial Administration (ARBA), which was charged with encouraging and coordinating locally sponsored events.
Once again, coins were minted in honor of the occasion. Cities painted their fire hydrants red, white, and blue. Jewelry was made to commemorate the occasion. Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip joined President Ford and his wife Betty for a state visit to the White House.
Bettye Kimbrell created this this quilt in 1975 for a competition sponsored by the National Grange to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the United States. It has a patchwork design made up of twelve blocks that look like Betsy Ross’s 1776 flag with its red and white stripes and thirteen white stars on a blue background with alternating white squares filled with hand-stitched outlines of eagles and stars.
The People’s Bicentennial Quilt was made in response to the nostalgic quilts and other celebrations of the Bicentennial that continued to present American history through rose-colored glasses. The makers, a group of women from California, decided to celebrate the freedoms won in the 1960s and 1970s as a means of presenting history to the public from multiple viewpoints. Blocks on the quilt include celebratory times like the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but makers also depicted slaves being sold on the block, Chinese workers on the railroad, Japanese internment camps of World War II, and women fighting for suffrage and fair labor practices. Organizer of the project, Gen Guracar, wrote that by making a quilt, they were participating in a long tradition of women who had recorded their lives in their quilts.
By the time The Declaration of Independence’s 250th anniversary rolls around, as quilters, we have to ask: Are quilts celebrating this event a thing of the past?
Not if Stacey King has anything to do with it.
An Idea for Semiquincentennial Quilt
June 2024 found Stacey attending a quilt show. Her husband had tagged along and since he was looking at all things quilty, he decided fair play was for Stacey to go to a history lecture with him. Not sure exactly what to expect, Stacey was ecstatic when the lecture by Cynthia Stewart was one on quilts celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Captivated by them, the stray thought flitted through her mind: “I wonder if we could do that for the 250th anniversary?”
Intrigued by thought (which would not leave her alone) she asked an internet quilting group she sewed with through The Applique Society called Threads Across the Miles, if such a thing could be possible. Could a group of quilters make a quilt celebrating the document which had held our country together for so long? Could all those quilters make this idea work, coming from different states and different quilting backgrounds? The group had one answer: Talk to Anita M. Smith.
Anita M Smith is the President and Founder of The Applique Society. She thought Stacey’s idea was a wonderful one and one she thought the members of TAS could handle. However, Anita’s enthusiasm for the idea went a bit deeper than a quilt which would celebrate the Declaration’s 250th birthday. Back in 1996, when Anita first conceived the idea of TAS, she was convinced the group would make a quilt which would not only draw all types of applique artists together, but the quilt would also get national attention (at the least) and international attention (at the most). Anita took the idea of the Semiquincentennial Quilt (Semiquin for short) to TAS’s board. They overwhelmingly approved it and put Stacey in charge with Anita as support.
At this point, you may be thinking the hard part was over. An idea – a good one – was hatched, Stacey had the backing of the board and the support of its president. The Applique Society has over 500 members, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to take care of this project.
According to Anita and Stacey, it really wasn’t. Once they floated the idea via email to TAS members, the response was good. Each of the fifty states would be represented and members had a chance to sign up for the state they wanted to design a block for. The Applique Society would accept two blocks for each state by different designers and choose the best block. And while TAS does have over 500 members, they don’t have members in each state. So some members agreed to take on more than one state. By the time the deadline for block designs approached, TAS had 70 different designs submitted. According to both Anita and Stacey, the enthusiasm for the Semiquin project was over the top. Members were excited and Stacey, confident that TAS “has the best appliquers out there,” knew the quilt would come together beautifully.
A committee of three TAS board members took on the task of choosing out of the 70 entries, the 50 blocks needed. This was all done anonymously. Who made the blocks was kept hidden and the committee chose what they thought best represented the state designed.
Block designs were farmed out to members of TAS who agreed to applique them. Meanwhile, an idea was hatched for the borders. Each border would represent a part of the United States – the North, South, East, and West. Anita asked prominent applique designers to come up with the patterns for these. Karen Glover and Heather Mantz designed the Northern border, Kathy McNeil designed the West Coast border, Judy Craddock designed the East Coast border, and Dena Rosenberg designed the Southern border.
If you remember, I mentioned TAS has over 500 members, and this membership is not solely limited to the United States. The Applique Society is an international quilt group. Part of the caveat Anita made with some of the designers who came up with the border patterns was they did not have to applique them. Some had very heavy schedules and time to applique the border was not available. This is where the international TAS members stepped up. Applique artists from Belgium and Canada wanted to stitch the borders.
Behind the Scenes
Don’t think for a hot second that once Anita and Stacey requested designs for the blocks and the borders, they sat back and relaxed. As the block patterns came in, Anita found out she had additional work to do. Stacey and Anita had designed the quilt layout based on the Fibonacci ratio sequence: A simple sequence of numbers where each number is the sum of the two proceeding it (e.g. 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8 – for more information go here: https://sherriquiltsalot.com/2023/04/12/quilting-with-fibonacci/. Each state was given a specific block size, with the states which had the most TAS members having larger blocks. As the patterns came in, Anita discovered some blocks were larger and some were smaller than the requested measurements, and some patterns needed to be “cleaned up” – the design lines needed to be thinner to accommodate accurate applique. For two months she worked as many as 6 to 14 hours a day in order to have the patterns ready to send out to the appliquers by the first part of March 2025. On the March 11, the first set of patterns with a core background fabric went out to all the designers, followed by the 4 border patterns with core background fabric in the next few days.
Meanwhile, Stacey handled communications between the pattern designers, the appliquers, and the TAS board and TAS membership. As more emails flew across the United States (and beyond), she realized one thing: Each block held a story. And these stories were part of the heart of the quilt. Stacey asked each pattern designer to write their stories about the block patterns and send them in. These stores – all of them – will be on the back of the quilt, behind each block the story belongs to. For both Stacey and Anita, the Semiquin Quilt became more than “just another quilt.” Stacey found herself overcoming the fear of doing something different. Both women looked at the project under the scope of the question-and-answer “How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.”
“But sometimes every step was a new elephant!” Stacey told me. She was thankful for Anita’s support, and they learned the quilt pattern process as they worked together.
Anita was viewing the quilt through a different perspective. She is an immigrant. She and her family came to the United States in 1956 to escape the poverty and ruin after the war in Europe. She looks at America and the Declaration of Independence a bit differently than some of us. Natural born citizens almost take for granted the grit and determination it took to form our country and frame our Declaration of Independence and Constitution. Anita never takes those for granted. “I love America,” she told me. It is her desire the Semiquin quilt become a big deal – not just for those quilters making the quilt, but for everyone who looks at it. “I want it to impact people. I want the stories (behind the patterns) to show a love for beauty and the hope of America – not the problems.”
My North Carolina Block in the Works
Slowly, with the same grit and determination those 55 Continental Congress delegates had, the TAS quilters are making the blocks, using the applique method of their choice. The best fabrics are chosen, the finest stitches are sewed. By November, the finished blocks should be in Anita’s hands. She will piece the blocks into the quilt center. In January 2026, the borders will arrive, and she will add those. It will be quilted and bound.
And Then What?
Once the quilt is completely finished, Anita and Stacey hope it can tour the country, and be shown in the cities which have celebrations planned for the 250th birthday of the Declaraton. It will also (hopefully) make a trip to the International Quilt Show in Houston. Their ultimate dream goal is to have it shown at the White House. And in the end, when the celebratory year is over, they hope it will go to live in a museum, such as the International Quilt Museum.
As the completed applique blocks begin to trickle in, waiting for the time Anita will piece them together, Stacey (who also designed the 250th Logo for Semiquin for the Applique Society quilt), reflects on what this quilt means to her.
“It’s like holding hands with those quilters across the years – 50, 100, 150, 200, and 250 – who made quilts to celebrate the Declaration of Independence.”
Quilting truly is the thread which connects quilts and quilters across the nation, the world, and the decades. Just as we cannot take the Declaration of Independence for granted, we can’t take the quilters – and the quilts they made to celebrate – for granted. All of those quilts took time and resources and skill.
If you would like to chart the quilt’s progress, as well as have access to the patterns, all you need to do is join The Applique Society at https://www.theappliquesociety.org. For $25 a year, you can be a part of this wonderful organization which promotes applique, offers many online resources, and has monthly meetings via Zoom with internationally known speakers. The Semiquin patterns are free to TAS members until July 2026. Then the patterns will go back to their original designers.
If you are a long-time reader of my blogs, you may realize two things about them. First, they’re not monetized in any way. It’s not that there haven’t been offers of sponsorship, there have been several. However, it’s a conscious action of my own not to accept these offers. Being free from any financial strings allows me to honestly review notions, fabrics, authors, and books without fear of any repercussions and allows me to be perfectly honest without any fear of retribution.
The second thing you may or may not have noticed about my blogs is that they’re apolitical. I don’t issue anything which may be politically inflammatory to one side or another. My blog is about quilting – and that’s all. Quilting notions, fabric, books, the sheer joy and creative activity that quilting brings. So it’s with a bit of trepidation that this week’s blog is about tariffs and how they may affect our quilting world. This blog is neither pro nor con tariffs, but I hope it may lay out a strategy for us to survive them, just like we planned and quilted our way through the Pandemic.
The subject of tariffs and quilting has been bandied about on Reddit boards, Instagram, and Twitter. Most of what I’ve read – in fact a great deal of what I’ve read – is opinion. With this blog, I really want to keep away from opinion and work with facts – what we do know, what we don’t know, and how we can logically deal with any repercussions.
To begin with, let’s talk about quilting cottons. I’m limiting this blog to cottons and batiks because nearly all quilters use cotton fabrics in some way, shape, or form. Here’s the good news about the United States and cotton:
In the United States, textile mills manufacture a significant amount of cotton fabric annually. They produce approximately eight billion square yards of woven cotton and three billion square yards of knitted cotton. The US is also a major global cotton producer, contributing a significant portion of the world’s supply and exports.
Domestic Cotton Production:
The U.S. is a leading producer of cotton, with Texas being the largest state producer. In the 2023/2024 marketing year, the U.S. produced 12.07 million bales of cotton.
Cotton Mill Use:
U.S. textile mills process a substantial amount of raw cotton, with an estimated 1.9 million bales being used for the 2023/24 marketing year.
Cotton in the Global Market:
The U.S. is a major exporter of cotton, supplying about 35% of global cotton exports.
Fabric Production:
Textile mills in the U.S. manufacture vast quantities of cotton fabric annually, with approximately eight billion square yards of woven cotton and three billion square yards of knitted cotton produced.
All of this sounds great. We automatically assume that quilt stores and online sites should have no issue getting fabric and that the fabric should remain fairly steady in price.
Not exactly.
American cotton fabric manufacturing actually hit its zenith in 1860, producing as much as 2 billion pounds of cotton fabric a year. From that point, it steadily declined, with the exception of 1940, when it peaked again due to World War II. Prior to NAFTA (which we will discuss in a hot second), through the 1980’s and 1990’s, cotton fabric production was on the decline, as knits and other synthetic fabrics overtook the garment and sewing industry. It’s nearly impossible to get exact figures from this pre-NAFTA ten-year time period, but almost all the historical websites agree that cotton fabric production was then on the decline. The consumer not only wanted ready-made fashion (which became less expensive than making garments) but also the sewists wanted the new knit and other synthetic fabric. I noticed this from personal reference. During the 1980-1990 time period, I made all my kids clothes. Everything in Piece Goods or Hancock’s was knit – t-shirt knits, fleeces, blends – almost all of it was synthetic. It was also at this time I taught French Heirloom Sewing and smocking, which must be done with cotton batiste/cotton fabrics. Most of the time I had to order the material from a website specializing in these fabrics because they weren’t readily found in the stores (kudos to Hancock’s who finally did start carrying yellow, pink, blue, and white batiste as well as the broadcloth used for smocking).
“But,” you may be asking yourself, “America is still producing cotton fabric. And even with only 12.07 million cotton bales per year, surely we have enough quilting cottons to keep everybody happy and not break the bank.” Sure. If you only want to make quilts out of solid fabrics. Most of the quilting cottons currently produced in the US are solids, with a few exceptions from various designers such as Ruby Star Society and Alexander Henry Fabrics. The vast majority of premium cotton fabric gets printed in Japan and Korea. The new digital prints are almost all made in Pakistan. Batiks come from Indonesia and sometimes other places. What I was not able to discover was if the cotton used to produce these fabrics come from the US or China or some other country.
The United States has always been flexible. In World War II, we converted factories which made machine parts into places which manufactured guns and other armaments the country needed. It would be easy to think that all those cotton mills which churned out fabrics pre-NAFTA could be re-tooled to and refurbished to manufacture fabric again.
The old, abandoned Bellemont Mill in Alamance County
That may be difficult, if not impossible, to do. NAFTA (North American Trade Agreement) was passed into law on January 1, 1994. That makes it 31 years old. As our textile mills slowly ground to a halt, many were abandoned for years. Again, I pull from personal experience. I grew up in Alamance County, North Carolina. There was literally either a mill or church on nearly every corner. At the turn of the 20th century, there were 30 textile mills and 57 hosiery mills there. Alamance County is a small place. Nearly everyone you knew was connected to one or more of these mills. As of the time of this blog, I can only think of perhaps one mill still in operation. The rest of the buildings have either crumbled into utter disrepair, have been made into condos, one houses a charter school, and the others have been either demolished or re-purposed into other businesses. And this is only one example.
These are the facts. No matter if you find yourself under the banner of a donkey or an elephant or eschew both of them, the facts are:
Most of the quilting cottons we use and love are not produced in the United States.
Most, if not all, of these will be subject to some kind of tariff.
Bringing textile production back to the United States on a fast-track is probably impossible.
It might be possible for the factories producing solid fabric to change up and produce prints.
As of the date of this blog, we are still unsure of the tariff amounts and how much it will drive up the cost of fabric and for how long.
My immediate concern was not us quilters. My first concerns were the local quilt shops, followed by the online sites. The number of brick-and-mortar local quilt shops has steadily decreased in the last ten years. High Point, the city closest to me, has only one small fabric shop (I’m not counting Hobby Lobby, Walmart, or shops that sell upholstery fabric. And now Joann’s is completely out of the picture). Keepsake Quilting/Pineapple Fabrics in nearby Archdale closed its retail shop in November 2024 and only has an online presence. If the tariffs drive up the wholesale cost of fabric, this expense will have to be passed onto customers. Currently, according to the website American Tariffs on Fabrics: Textile Import Duty in the USA, cotton thread will have an average 4.4% tariff and unbleached cotton fabric will have an average 7.7% tariff. Of course, these numbers can fluctuate according to country of origin. It would be rare for any company (regardless of what import it’s getting) or retail establishment (regardless of the type) to absorb this type of increase without passing on the additional cost to the consumer. The question is can they do this and maintain their customer base?
I don’t know. I honestly have no idea how many small mom-and-pop fabric stores can increase prices and stay in business. I don’t know how many small, independent, online fabric sites can increase prices and stay in business, either. I received a newsletter from one of my favorite small, woman-owned fabric sites and in the email, she confessed she was worried – not only about having to pass along the increased cost of patterns, notions, and fabric to her customers, but also the increase in postage (which again goes up in July and the USPS plans on five more hikes through 2027). Currently she absorbs the cost of shipping. She can no longer afford to extend this favor to her customers and remain solvent.
So what do we, as a community of quilters, do?
First, don’t panic or panic-buy. Sit tight and realize the news media is probably exploiting the very worst-case scenario.
Second, I think (personally) we need to brace ourselves not only for higher prices in the short term, but also for the long term. It’s rare once a price increases on a retail item that it decreases to the point it was before the increase (e.g. eggs). Even if the tariffs disappear in six months, I don’t think the price of fabric will return completely to what it was before the tariffs.
Third, as much as we can, we should continue to support our local fabric stores. I realize everyone has a limit as to how much we can spend on our passion, and this is not a call to overspend your budget. However, if you need a couple of spools of thread, or there’s fabric you need on sale at a reasonable price, or there’s a notion you need to replace like pins, needles, or a seam ripper, go to your local store first (if you have one in your area), and then to your favorite online site.
Fourth, realize that aside from fabric, most of what we use in quilting is not consumable. You don’t replace rulers or templates every week. We don’t constantly need to replace cutting mats or rotary cutters. So don’t panic. You’ll still be able to quilt.
Fifth, look at the option of purchasing the consumables available in bulk. Rotary blades, pins, needles, paper piecing paper, applique paper, thread, marking pens and pencils can be purchased in bulk (something I’ve encouraged you to do for several years now). See if a few of your friends want to go in with you and then have the items shipped to one address and divvy them out. You’ll save money both on the goods and on the shipping costs. Even if the tariffs end in a few months, you’ll use these items.
Six, change the way you quilt. Go through your stash and see what you have. Compare that to the quilts you plan to make in the next couple of years. Try to make your stash cover all of these as much as possible. If you absolutely need neutrals or a background fabric or some focus fabrics, there are other “shopping” options. Ask for a fabric trade with the guild or quilt group you’re a part of. Be vocal. Tell them what you want and how much yardage is needed. Then offer up a fabric from your stash of equal value. Peruse the free table at guild meetings. These can often harbor hidden gems. Many thrift stores have a textile section. Look through those to see if any of the fabric there is usable. Online de-stash groups and Facebook Marketplace are also great options. Last resort is Etsy and Ebay – but in my opinion, both of those have gotten a little expensive lately.
Seven, if you haven’t done it in a few years, NOW is a great time to go through and organize your stash. See exactly what you have and plan your projects accordingly. See what can be used for backs. And if you like the extra-wide quilt backing but find it’s getting too rich for your wallet, try using an old sheet. A sheet which has been washed several times becomes soft and is wonderful to work with. If you don’t have a flat sheet to spare, thrift shops are a great source.
Finally, remember this: Quilters have always found a way to “make do” and quilt. This blog is not a cry for panic buying or any type of panic in general. It is a warning that things could get to be expensive – both for the long and short term. Quilters in the nineteenth century learned to cut apart chintz fabric and applique those figures onto a background fabric (broderie perse) to make the expensive chintz panels stretch through several quilts. Quilters during the twentieth century learned to work with feedsacks to make clothing and quilts. During the seventies, we even learned to deal with that awful polyester. This time it is no different. We can make do and our art can thrive. Don’t panic, just learn to adapt.
