Yet that is exactly what happened to me one morning years ago in San Jose. I'm still flabbergasted at my good fortune.
|A very talented seamstress did this. By hand.|
I've always wanted a crazy quilt, but never figured I would get one. They are a Relic of Another Age, like antimacassars, and don't just drop serendipitously into the laps of people who aren't actively stalking them. Like most really lovely vintage items, they don't come cheap, either. And yet, I only had to part with $25 to get mine.
How was I so lucky? Well, it was the only remaining one of several that were obviously complete and I suspect in better condition than the one I bought—I noticed small tears in some of the pieces when I examined it closely. Also, it was just the top. No backing; no binding. I'd need to back and bind it before I could use it. It obviously had never been the pick of the litter. Still, it was a crazy quilt. I'd wanted one forever. I would never make one for myself; I don't possess the patience. Plus it had velvet and silk and funky vintage fabrics. It had butterflies embroidered on it. I wasn't going to let a little wear or the fact that it needed to be finished stop me from possessing it.
|This is why, I suspect, I was able to buy it. You can watch some of the pieces disintegrate,|
almost in real time. I wonder if they are rayon, which doesn't seem to wear particularly well.
It is now folded over the footboard of the guest bed. Every time I see it, it makes me so very happy.
|Velvet! Silk! Spectacular embroidery!|
|Funky vintage fabrics, I love you so much.|