[welcome to the first installment in my [of meaning] column.  today i’ll get things started by sharing my own something of meaning, my textile collection.]

i’ve always loved fabric- such a simple material, but with such necessity, beauty, versatility, and seemingly limitless iterations. as a little girl, i remember going to the fabric store with my mom, walking through the rows of bolts, touching everything, taking in all the prints, color, and texture.  when shopping for clothes, she always told me to “feel the material” to make sure the quality was up to standard.  when i changed fields from architecture to buying after grad school, i was told by my first manager that she hired me partly because i touched every piece of fabric i saw as we took our office tour.  i just can’t help it.  textiles are the perfect balance of art and utility in my mind.

i started gathering my own collection of textiles here and there when in college; colorful 40s floral tablecloths at yard sales with my mom (many of which we used for the cocktail hour at my wedding), taking the bart to go vintage shopping in the mission when it was still pretty dicey, returning with a few piece of embroidery here or there.  when i moved across the country for grad school, suitcases in hand, a few small textiles taken from my mom’s collection served as my piece of “home”.  i really began traveling in grad school, and realized on a design studio trip to mexico city that textiles were the perfect souvenir-  easy to pack, full of history, artful, and representative of their place of making.  from that trip, i brought back some colorful otomi fabric, along with a textural hand-woven wool bedspread, both of which still decorate our bedroom years later.

my textile collection is small, made up of vintage pieces, travel mementos, and pieces that i believe to have soul.  there is a mix of scarves, table linens, towels, and blankets, but my favorite pieces are those with versatility- a shawl one day, table runner the next, wall hanging on another.  individually, each item is not necessarily noteworthy, but together, they weave a story, physical reminders marking meaningful moments along my path. details on a few pieces below, my little ode to fabric…

1. a handwoven alpaca scarf, made in bolivia.  this scarf was one of the first items i design-developed for terrain, and marks the point where i became reinvested in supporting the community of artisan makers.  i worked on it with the vendor at maison et objet during my first incredible trip to paris, and remember feeling so happy to be working with such beautiful materials, creating an item of timelessness and substance.  the handfeel on it is soft, warm and lovely, and it is the perfect large winter shawl- it is part of my everyday uniform once the temperature drops.

2. a rustic cotton plainweave cloth, limited edition and woven in india.  for me, the meaning of this fabric is actually less about the story of it’s making (although that holds its own beauty) and more about marking a particularly positive time in my life.  this past summer, i was fortunate enough to get to spend several weeks back home in southern california, for work, vacation, and some unexpected family needs.  it was a much-appreciated opportunity to connect with my loved ones and ground myself while being pregnant with charlotte.  one week, after an extremely inspiring work trip in los angeles, i drove up the coast to stay with my parents near santa barbara one weekend, and stopped at one of my favorite stores- pierre lafond/montecito market.  it was a perfect california early evening, warm and hazy, with the feel of the beach in the air, and i felt incredibly happy and at peace to be home.  i purchased this rustic towel there- what i loved was the joy in its vibrant color, the simplicity in its textural weave, and the versatility in its use.  it has brightened up my home in philadelphia since, and reminds me of the summer california sunshine.

3. a block-printed linen tablecloth, made in the traditional indian technique.  i have a soft spot for tablecloths- i acknowledge that they are a little “grandma”, and actually prefer the look of a bare table, but am always attracted to them.  i think it has to do with the scale, the idea of setting a complete table and gathering for a special meal.  this piece is also from terrain, design-developed by one of my employees in conjunction with a small artisan company.  working on this with her, i learned how to really partner with my team on the product development side to execute a vision, and realized just how much i enjoy seeing ideas come to fruition.  what i love here is the soft linen base, the neutral color palette, the painterly wash of pigment, and the unusual print technique (the ground color is printed, whereas often in block prints, the pattern is printed).

4. a mid-century romanian embroidered table runner. i purchased this at tail of the yak in berkeley, an incredible little shop in a city i loved living in.  they had a small collection of these vintage table runners in the shop, which immediately reminded me of my mom.  she has an affinity for embroidery, and picks up vintage pieces whenever she encounters them, simply because someone’s time and hands went into each stitch, and she believes that they should be saved and cherished.  the graphic layout and dense cross-stitch drew me to this runner over the others- when i unrolled it, embroidered on the edge was the year 1953 (the year my mom was born) and the initials M and T (my parents initials).  of all the table linens i have, i am probably most sentimental about this one.

5. a contemporary batik silk shawl, from a trip to java.  this piece is a memento from my first trip to south east asia, the furthest i have ever been from home, and a trip that opened my eyes to the wonder of travel and exposed me to the day-to-day realities of life outside america and europe.  i found indonesia incredibly beautiful in many ways- the most resonating experience of the trip was a day long car ride across the island, from yogyakarta to cirebon [video here]-  we visited borobudur and walked to the top of the temple; sped along narrow, winding roads crossing hills and valleys; stopped in crowded city centers to find food or use the bathroom at a local mall or mosque.  it was unlike any trip i have ever been on, and this reminds me of the beauty i found there- the saturated color of the countryside, the tiered landscape of rice paddies cascading down hills,  the simple structures built of indigenous materials, the peaceful calm while looking out over a valley from the top of a ninth-century temple, and the delicate care for craft.

6. a table runner from our wedding, held under the oak tree at my parents’ house in september, 2009.  when it came to wedding planning, using rental table linens felt inauthentic to me, so with the help of the women in my family, we made our own.  my mom flew out to philadelphia to help with wedding planning, and we spent a cloudy summer day shopping along fabric row, going from shop to shop until we found the right mix of fabrics to use.  when she left, my mom carried two very heavy suitcases full of yardage back to california, where she and my great-aunt geri (who also made my baby quilt, which is now in my own daughter’s room) cut and sewed all the runners for the wedding.  our wedding felt so personal to me and matt, a perfect celebration of the blending of our families; it was so meaningful to us to see all of our favorite people out in the front yard, dining around communal tables set with linens that these special women put care into making for us.  

7. a woven-locally, oversized wool scarf from a trip to the UK.  this piece is one of my staples- i frequently wear it as a scarf, but just as often, it is thrown over the arm of the couch to add color to the room, spread over the dining room table as a runner…  my trip to england was my favorite international trip- we spent five mid-september days driving around the countryside, purchasing antiques and vintage pieces.  i left for the trip just a couple of weeks after my grandmother had unexpectedly passed away, and thoughts of my family were weighing heavily on my mind.  i had always heard i had family roots in england, ireland, and wales, and to travel through the rolling hills and small towns of southern england at that moment felt incredibly special.  i purchased this scarf during an afternoon stop at bailey’s home and garden.  the simple plaid, textured wool, and fall colors made this the perfect memento of my travels, and i think of my family roots whenever i wear it.

i love that this collection is not static, it will continue to develop as i encounter new places, experiences, and memories.  it is the primary source of decoration, color, and pattern in our home, and offers flexibility to change the look and feel of our space on a whim.  an appreciation for fabric and making is something i learned from my mother, and i feel like my tablecloths, runners, and blankets are an extension of her own collection- likewise, i hope this is something i can share with my daughter someday as well. and on my list of projects to take on- figuring out a great way to organize and display these at home.

[i am looking forward to sharing the next installment in [of meaning]- my first guest will be my design school partner-in-crime, sarah peck [the creative spirit behind it starts with and landscape urbanism], who will be sharing her thoughts on books, quilting, and living a life surrounded by meaning.]

[photos by alexandra sklar]