Patterns, patchworks and projects
Image from The Painted Quilt
Calling all quilt historians! Kaaren of The Painted Quilt blog shares with us a beautiful red and white antique quilt from her collection. The block used to make it is a mystery. Does anyone recognize it?
Go here to see a closeup of the block.
I have fabric buying rules.
Very sensible rules.
Responsible, grown-up, “I have teenagers and a mortgage” rules.
And yet… somehow… I still come home with another bundle of florals.
If you’ve ever typed “quilting fabric sale” into Google knowing full well you do not need more quilting fabric, this one’s for you.
Let’s talk about the rules I made for myself — and how often I quietly ignore them.
This is my most repeated rule.
Only buy quilting fabric if I have a pattern in mind.
Only buy fabric yardage if I know what quilt I’m making.
In theory? Sensible.
In reality?
“I don’t have a pattern yet, but this would make a beautiful lap quilt.”
Which means it joins the “future project” pile.
That pile is thriving.
Before buying new quilting cotton, I tell myself:
You have a whole cupboard of beautiful fabric.
And I do.
But sometimes I open that cupboard and think:
“Yes… but not this shade of blue.”
Apparently there is always room for “just one more perfect blender.”
This one gets me every time.
Clearance quilting fabric is dangerous.
Because suddenly I’m not buying fabric…
I’m “saving money.”
Which is how three metres of something I wasn’t even looking for ends up in my sewing room.
On sale fabric has a way of whispering,
“You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
And honestly? Sometimes I would.
I love novelty quilting fabrics.
Chickens. Teacups. Tiny strawberries. Vintage florals.
Do I make novelty quilts often?
No.
Do I convince myself I will?
Absolutely.
There’s something about quirky fabric that makes my creative brain light up — even if it takes five years to turn into something.
This is the funniest one.
Because I absolutely have:
Three nearly identical cream background prints.
Four versions of “soft dusty pink.”
More neutral blenders than I could sew in a year.
But when I see “the perfect low-volume print” — logic disappears.
Apparently I believe each new one is slightly more perfect than the last.
This one I actually stick to.
If I’m investing in fabric for a quilt, I want quality quilting cotton that presses well, holds up over time, and doesn’t fade after washing.
I’ve learned that lesson.
Cheap fabric looks like a bargain… until it doesn’t behave.
So at least I’ve matured in one area.
This isn’t strictly about buying fabric, but it’s related.
Because nothing triggers fabric shopping like:
Suddenly a new project feels like a fresh start.
Which means new fabric.
Which means the cycle continues.
If I’m being honest — and this is the handwritten, tea-in-hand honesty — I don’t just buy fabric for quilts.
I buy fabric for:
Sometimes buying quilting fabric is less about productivity and more about hope.
And that’s not entirely a bad thing.
Here’s the rule I actually try to follow now:
Buy fabric that genuinely makes you excited to sew.
Not pressured.
Not influenced.
Not because someone else says it’s trending.
If I can picture it on my cutting mat.
If I can see it stitched into something useful.
If it makes me want to sit down and sew tonight.
Then I don’t feel guilty.
Most hobby quilters don’t struggle because they don’t have enough fabric.
We struggle because:
Fabric buying is the easy part.
Making space to actually sew? That’s the real challenge.
So yes.
I have fabric buying rules.
And yes.
I break them.
But as long as the sewing room still feels joyful — and not stressful — I’m okay with that.
Because quilting isn’t about being perfectly disciplined.
It’s about enjoying the process… even if that includes another bundle of florals.
