They never have names -- not while I'm working on them anyway -- and when one doll buyer asked me the name of the doll she had chosen, I told her I didn't know because it wasn't mine -- and never was mine -- it was always to be Someone Else's doll and they would surely know her Name. And that is the truth.
So what names did they get? "Abigail" and "Rachel" are in Washington state. Rachel hangs out in a church nursery. Nan asked me to keep in mind that she would be played with a lot, so I made her bomb proof. She apparently got cold and a bit lonely so they gave her a sweater and a dog for company and here they are, cuddled together in the nursery --
Janine wanted a super fancy party doll, so I had a blast hitting the wedding trim counter and fooling around with satin. Her name is "Sara" and she will belong to a young lady named Chloe. In addition to her party dress, she has PJs (had a wonderful time figuring out how to make a PJ hat with a tassle), a jumper outfit, and shorts and a top. Oh yes, and matching shoes. Janine really inspired me to try new things. Here she is ready for a party. Check out that bling along the hem of her dress --
Eric from Alabama challenged me to try different hair colors. He wanted a blondie with a dark blue dress. No one has to ask me twice to go cruise fabric or yarn stores, so I had a lovely day "working hard" in the shops.
My first cousin's daughter -- what does that make her to me? First cousin once removed? Anyway, for her birthday, they gave her this doll. Her Mom said the doll looked like her daughter (but Camille is a Whole Lot Cuter). Her grandmother, my Aunt Judy (are you getting all the family connections straight?) is an artist and she painted a picture of this doll who came to be named, "Coco." Here she is: Cami, "Coco," and picture of Coco --
It's nice to hear about the dolls, and who they become, and it soothes my anxieties to hear they are holding up ok, their hair is still on, the child can manage the clothes -- and even more, that the child wants to play with the doll. At one craft fair, it was sad to see child after child walk right by my dolls and show no interest at all -- not even stop to look for a second (even if just to make a face that they hated them) -- but instead the kids went straight for the tables with the plastic toys....
There is something about a cloth doll that seems so basic and vital to childhood. Nevermind if I made them.
But other kids do get it, as in Cami above. I enjoy corresponding with parents and grandparents who tell me they want something special and unique (and trust me, they are one of a kind -- I don't have enough skill to actually copy one). And then there are the adults like Janine who can design a whole wardrobe for a doll because they themselves never forgot how to play. Or Hannah who understands how deeply we can feel about dolls and how much they can mean.
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ReplyDeleteI am curious how a doll got a cold . . . but it is lovely to hear how these scraps of fabric yarn and thread that start out on your kitchen table turn into a little girl's best friend (or a grown woman's long-lost toy). We had a cloth doll growing up which was not as durable as the other toys, but was much more relatable and cuddly.
ReplyDeleteWhat wonderful memories you're providing!
I had a doll too which lived at my grandmother's house. And she took took meticulous care of it for me, washing and starching her clothes, and making sure she was comfortable in her shoebox while I was gone.
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