It’s funny the spin that can be put on things just by the choice of epithet assigned to them.
It seems that I have come to the notice of a magazine for my “collections”.
They have asked me to send them some photos, which yesterday morning necessitated a short session of snappery, some of the result of which you see here.
This is thanks to the failure of not one but two computers, both having had a good go at frying most of my better photographs.
Collecting. I’ve always done it. I collected stamps as a child, and loved soaking them from envelopes and arranging them in albums.
I have also at various times collected shells, books, postcards, Pippa dolls, marbles, tins… the list goes on and on.
I think I got it from my dad, who was an inveterate collector, primarily of books, music and hi-fi equipment – all things which brought him great pleasure.
Collecting is seen as a respectable, if occasionally verging on eccentric, hobby.
The preserve of a happy breed of people I love above all others – enthusiasts.
Enthusiasts might go a bit over the top, but their hearts are in the right place.
Enthusiasts are the salt-of-the-earth types who save canals and steam railways, spend years doing up old camper vans, and festoon their homes with clocks, or porcelain figurines, or oil paintings. Or whatever other form their enthusiasm expresses itself in.
Hoarding, on the other hand, has much less positive connotations. It smacks of greed and desperation, even mental illness.
Hoarding is not to be encouraged.
It conjures up those telly programmes where people can’t use their houses, living instead in their garden shed or hallway, because the rest of their home is full of what they’ve hoarded away.
Hoarding is the amassing of excessive, useless, pointless, mountains of stuff that is neither use nor ornament.
I class myself as a vintage fabric enthusiast.
I know I won’t use all of it, but for me, like my dad before me, the point of the exercise is pleasure and possibilities, rather than the mere fact of having stuff.
I am a collector.
Not a hoarder. No sir. ♥
Wowza what a collection I am very, very jealous!! Oh to have a little strip or square of all of that… Lucky girl for finding it all… Cass x
It’s the result of many hours of dedicated (some might say obsessional) searching Cass! 🙂
Hoarding is compulsive, and has little to do with enjoyment. Collecting, on the other hand, is addictive for the pleasure and sometimes pure joy it brings. You have a very superior and enviable fabric collection!
I think fabric-buying can be compulsive… and the thing with vintage fabric is that you just have to buy it as you never know if you’ll find that particular fabric ever again!
Hi – Just wondered how you would describe the fabric that is in the middle of the last picture – the blue with large flowers and an open weave. I’ve recently found some very similar but have never seen anything like it before now – a large open weave and some huge flower prints. Thank u 🙂
It’s a synthetic curtain fabric, I’m not sure if it has a name other than that!
You have a very, very beautiful collection of fabric! I couldn’t agree more – collecting fabric that you love and makes you smile is definitely not hoarding. You never know what project a certain piece will be perfect for. And even if you can’t use it all, you’ve given it a good home and kept it safe, ready to be used by someone else in the future. Lovely post! 🙂
Thank you! I think when I get around to making my will (which I really must do) I will have to specify what happens to my fabric collection as it’s not going to be valued by anyone around me… I can see it all ending up in a bin bag after I’m gone otherwise!
Me too :0)
So lovely to see more of your collection – I’m swooning rather a lot over here – gorgeous!