In stitches

I find it a bit difficult to identify with ladies who love to shop. To me shopping for clothes is tedious beyond belief, and other shopping only a necessary evil. My husband tells me I’m low maintenance.

There are, however, two exceptions to this; shops where I can buy books and fabrics. My husband’s comment when he is with me and a shop is within view is, “It is like getting a dog past a butchers”. He’s not wrong.

It seems I’m in good company. On Thursday, I was a guest at a local Quilter’s Guild in the capital. I sat in a room with at least 50 quilters. That is just for the city centre and doesn’t include the outer areas of the capital. I had to smile when the Chairwoman welcomed the guests and introduced herself by saying “Hi, my name is Judy and I’m a fabricoholic”. Moi aussi.

I blame my mum, who trained as a seamstress before WWII and only gave up sewing daily aged 77. I was always surrounded by fabric and pins as a child, and was forbidden to walk barefoot around the house, in case I was impaled by overlooked tailor pins.

I have lugged swatches of fabric with me around the world, and can’t resist picking up odds and ends in charity shops. But unlike most quilters, I make mine by hand, preferring to sit and stitch laboriously onto paper templates.

I think I will have to attend the Guild meetings regularly. I will sit in the circle and introduce myself “.............. and I haven’t bought fabric for three days!”