Fashion in Miniature

Grandma Ollie worked magic with the meager gifts she had been endowed with. When I say "meager gifts", I mean with our dirt poorness, she would make marvelous things out of almost nothing. She could make a masterpiece of a blackberry cobbler from the berries we picked on the side of the railroad tracks that ran through the tiny southern Illinois town. Homemade biscuits and fried chicken--Better than "Finger lick'n good!" And, while she had a way with food, she was even a more masterful artist with a pair of scissors, some needles, thread and scraps of fabric. Grandma Ollie did everything with joy. Her spirit was contagious!

Grandma Ollie passed her enthusiasm for sewing to me when we visited her each summer after our school days ended. Our family would pile into the car to make the three-hour drive to Elkville which was straight south from Decatur, Illinois on Highway 51. Elkville was a one-track country town that did not have a stoplight (or stop sign).

As soon as we lugged the suitcases into the house, and a scrumptious dinner was devoured, Grandma would have sewing projects in progress already set out that she was working on. Grandma invited me to try my hand at whatever needed to be done at the moment. Sometimes, it was cutting more calico squares, flour sacking, triangles or long rectangular strips for the borders to refine, add definition, and accent to the cover pattern. When all of the regular pieces were used up, Grama would use the scraps in a "jazzy" quilt. These were my favorite because I really think they displayed her imagination best--her soul. Grandma had a Cedar chest full of homemade quilts. They were given as wedding gifts to girls throughout the family.

Sometimes I ironed the seams open to smooth out the quilt pattern. The sound and the smell of the steam seeped into my nostrils and perfumed my kinky hair. As my interest and skills increased, I threaded my own needles and learned to knot my thread just like Grandma -- by licking and rolling the thread toward the tip of my index finger.

As years passed, I graduated from blankets to making doll clothes. The joy of the summers with my grandmother carried over into the fall, winter and spring--throughout the school year. As the designer of my dolls' fashions, the artist inside blossomed. First, I designed for my baby dolls. I quickly moved on to the more standard-sized dolls. We couldn't afford Barbies. So you can imagine how I felt when I got my first Barbie as a Christmas present. I had to remove her clothes in secret and keep my designs to myself.

I'm not sure how I became fascinated with the handkerchiefs that I found at the local salvage store. I accompanied my mother when she visited the local resale salvage store to get used items we needed at bargain prices. We couldn't afford to buy new fabric for me to sew.The fancy handkerchiefs seemed just the right size to experiment with my Barbie. Needless to say, the handkerchiefs were just the right size! So each visit to the salvage store became an adventure to see what artful 'kerchief some church lady had discarded. The salvage store attendant began to set these dainty items on a back shelf awaiting my next visit. Sometimes she would even tuck them into the bottom of my mother's bag and give them to me for free. They still smelled of body powder and perfume as I pulled them from the bottom of the bag to dunk them into a sink full of warm soapy water. I would hand them to dry outside on the clothesline and press each one lovingly with the heavy steam iron. This made each tiny piece of fabric even more delightful. The preparation of the handkerchiefs stimulated my creativity even more.

Joy is the only word to describe my feelings when I go into the sanctuary of my craft room with my new supply of handkerchiefs, my scissors, and my sewing machine. I can indulge my passion to design for the tiny exquisite figure of my favorite dolls. Here, I lose track of time. I no longer have to scour salvage shops for my beloved handkerchiefs. These days I enjoy browsing antique shops and estate sales. Occasionally, a life-long friend who understands my passion will send me a unique design and I can gift her with a photograph to their delight. Some neighbors have asked me to make a special design for a grandchild. I feel that my superpower is to create something out of nothing...Just like my Grandma Ollie.

In honor of my Grandmother, Ollie Garrison Oliver-Thomas