Are those Cabbage...WHAT? October 08, 2015 17:36
Are those Cabbage patch dolls?
I have been asked that question at craft fairs. I have been asked that question while I sewed in waiting rooms. I have been asked that question to the point of wanting to scream NO at the top of my lungs.
Soft sculpture dolls are going to resemble each other. There’s no way around it. As there are only so many stories to tell, there are only so many ways to stitch a doll head. BUT…these are not Cabbage Patch kids. Not. Cabbage. Patch. Kids.
I know that that makes me sound really testy and totally cantankerous. I’m sorry if it does. But what a question like that says to a maker is this: You don’t have an original thought in your body.
Let me walk you through my process. Every single body is sewn…by me. It’s stuffed…by me. Its feet and legs are sewn…by me, and in the former case by hand. No two of my dolls are alike. Every doll’s head is shaped by me, using a wicked needle, and waxed linen thread. I make the wigs, cutting each strand of yarn, or felting the roving. I pick the fabric for their clothes, cutting and sewing and ornamenting each and every one.
Cabbage Patch Kids that you get at the big box stores? They’re mass produced. To computerized specifications. With a plastic head. And they’re not US made. By a mom.
That’s right. When I make my babies for your special someone, I’m making them with the same care I take in making one for my own child.
Made in the US. By a mom.
Each one unique.
Just like your little ones.
But they're so expensive..... August 14, 2015 09:42 2 CommentsSo why are they so expensive? Because giving you my best work, and a part of my heart, is what I do every time I make a doll for your special someone.
I have to admit, this is one of those things that, for me, seems a bit like a pipe dream.
My daughter, nephew, and when she's old enough, niece, have gone to or will go to Waldorf schools for some or all of their elementary school experience. It is so important that children be allowed to be...wait for it...children.
There's irony in this. In my "real job", I'm a teacher. At a college prep school. Where my students are concerned with "the rest of my life". When they're children. And all I can think, as I watch them become stress messes over the work I assign (paradox, much?) is that they need to learn to play.
I guess that's where the pipe dream started - knowing that these kids need something to help them remember what it's like to play. I went to graduate school with a teddy bear that my best friend gave me. Tennyson hugged me when I thought I couldn't do it. He soaked up tears when I got my heart broken. He listened to me read my dissertation aloud, and gave me quite serious feedback. Even now, he sits in my bedroom, and from time to time, dries my tears.
My hope for you, dear visitor, is that you find a friend here for your someone special that they can take with them on life's adventures. And, that when they do, they think of you with love.