In this age of wash and wear, Lycra and moisture wicking clothing, what could possess me to turn on my iron? The answer: handkerchiefs.
My friend rescued what some might see as a monstrosity from trash day. While some see an object that is long past its prime, others see opportunity. At first blush, I saw a little of both.
The first step to overcoming doubt was to examine the object. The doll’s garment is made of handkerchiefs. Some were pinned but most were glued with a non-water soluble glue. This annoyed me.
I removed all the handkerchiefs as best as I could. Some holes were inevitable – the glue was stubborn and the fabric was delicate.
I examined each handkerchief with interest. Who could have mercilessly destroyed handkerchiefs by gluing them to this doll? On the other hand, the individual who made the doll decided to put unused handkerchiefs to creative use. The person didn’t see the handkerchiefs as overly precious that they should not be used. By extension, this gives me permission to use the handkerchiefs in any manner I can dream up without feeling like I have wasted something special.
As a self-described archivist, I inventoried each handkerchief by photographing it in all it’s glory – tatters, holes and remnants of glue. I normally don’t like stains – I am creeped out by other people’s dirt and grime. But in my mind there’s a statute of limitations on really gross stuff. And these handkerchiefs are old enough to meet that requirement. Plus I washed them.
Around this same time, another friend gifted me with old family ephemera. I marveled at the greeting card from 1903 and how strange it is that it is in my hands in 2024. That’s 121 years.
I noticed the greeting card matched one of my favorite handkerchiefs. I added a dried rose from my florist friend and now I have a charming photo that ties people together.
big bertha's adventures 