I’ve collected threads and fabrics for as long as I can remember. All of them were bought with the intention of using them in one way or another and most of them were, so that only off-cuts and scraps and half-used spools remain but they have such a beauty of their own I can’t bring myself to throw them out. (I even have lengths of silk bought 40 years ago when I worked for a while in Liberty’s, in the fabric department, that I never cut; instead every so often I get these yards of sheer delight out of their tissue paper wrappings and unfold them just for the simple pleasure of holding them in my hands.)
But these Indian rayon threads and sari fabrics I did use for embroidery 30 years ago, and bits of them still lie lovingly tucked away in a drawer and assail me with a sudden burst of colour and a rush of memories whenever I’m rummaging for something and unearth them unexpectedly.
Somehow I know that I’ll never be able to part with them. They’re too beautiful, too vibrant and still full of unrealised possibilities – they still have a quiet life of their own. I enjoy meeting up with them whenever we encounter each other – and surely this is a good enough reason to let them stay?
Time to wrap them up and put them carefully away in their drawer……