remembrance of quilts past

This is a piece I made about 3-4 years ago. And for some reason... I miss it!

The work I make is normally commissioned privately, but this one went into a boutique... so I'll never know what happened to her. My clients are generally fashion designers, fashion stylists, art collectors and textile collectors. The pieces are commissioned to become heirlooms, for beautiful boudoirs, to be shown off 'gallery' floors of big houses or for numerous chaises in huge ballroom type spaces.
But this one... I really can't imagine where she ended up. I look at the photos and they're my little pieces of the madeleine cake. Memories of stitching her every little piece, pulling the threads through each different texture, collecting subtly hued beads, my tough old throbbing fingers blistered at the end. I actually used plyers to get through the very tough end layers.
I rather cornily think of her as a beautiful old lady (maybe French?) with pearls round her neck, enjoying the afternoon sun in the rocking chair. White hair pulled up into toppling layers of meringue-like bun, blue eyes watery with excitement, love, memories... gazing through a window onto a beautiful garden where she sees her family history playing in front of her like an old film.
I think this lady wears her doilies well and whilst they're fading from fashion now, they're appropriate for her, like lacy high-necked blouses, matching china and a smattering of carnations and lilies on her side tables. Maybe to counteract all this corny loveliness, she has wild, bohemian memories of illicit affairs... and incredible adventures that make her blue eyes twinkle and shine still. After all, she was so beautiful when she was young.
The great big woolly pom-poms that I lovingly soaked and baked, are bigger than my hands. She has a lacy, cobwebby feel, cut glass crystals like frosty grass, thousands of tiny beads that I sat and hand stitched thousands of times.