rag dolls and woollies

rag dolls and woollies

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Where Are They Now?

At this point, I think I've sold twenty dolls. They have been sent to Vancouver and Toronto, Hawaii, Colorado, Minnesota, Alabama, Washington state, and several areas on the East Coast. One went to China (!!) and another to Perth, Australia (!!) There is one in London, England. Six more are floating around Israel. And I've given away at least four more.

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.


 
Then there is "Minou Deux," a replacement for a long ago lost doll. The original doll, "Little Minou" belonged to Hannah's sister when she was a little girl. But Little Minou was accidently sold at the family's yard sale -- quite a heart wrenching experience for a little five year old....This Christmas, Hannah will give her sister two dolls: a grown up version of what Little Minou might have looked like -- and my doll (!!) who reminded her of the original. She will be called "Minou Deux."  Here she is (with her matching shoes) --- 
 

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. 

 
 
 


3 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I 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.

    What wonderful memories you're providing!

    ReplyDelete
  3. 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.

    ReplyDelete