You either like them, or you don’t.

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The old quilts, I mean. The vintage blocks or tops or quilts, made from scraps left over from sewing, or from garments whose usefulness has passed. Made with skill or with the promise of skill in the future. Or even with the reluctant hand of one who does not wish to learn. I like them. I see thrift comingled with creativity; necessity softened by beauty. I often think of Eleanor Roosevelt’s quote: do the best you can with what you have where you are. That’s like the definition of a vintage quilt.

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