Going to Pieces: A Beginner's Guide to Quilting

Janeen Burkholder
Ever since the mid 1985, when the United States celebrated its bicentennial, the nearly extinct skill of quilting enjoyed a dramatic comeback about as successful as that of the American bald eagle.

Everybody loves quilts. In addition to their striking beauty-even the ugliest quilt is as charming as a redheaded stepchild-there is no more wonderful feeling than snuggling underneath one on a cold winter's night. Every one of them has a story, often told in the history of the fabrics used.

As I was growing up my mother often would say, "Someday I'm going to make a quilt." I was dubious. "Yeah, right," I thought. Piecing them together is difficult enough, let alone stitching the layers together.

Yet, after retiring, she did make a quilt. She made several of them, and she got me hooked, too. By the mid-nineties, an entire industry had grown up around the rekindled interest, sparking several magazines and dozens of books to be written. "Quilt" shops-where you can buy the goods to make a quilt, not buy a quilt-popped up in virtually every city, village, and town.

In fact, making a quilt is not hard and it's even easier now with the many modern tools and techniques that clever women (mostly women, but I know some men who quilt) began creating. Rotary cutters and cutting mats alone allowed cutting several layers of fabric in one quick slice, and with precision that our foremothers would have envied. Machine quilting techniques also evolved, making it possible to make a quilt in a weekend or two.

Following are some tips to get you started, but beware: This avocation is extremely addictive and can lead to the accumulation of vast "stashes" of fabric, computerized sewing machines, and an assortment of gizmos, magazines, and books.

My mother got me started by paying for my first rotary cutter, straight edge or ruler, and mat, and my first class as a birthday gift. All those quilt shops offer classes and they can be found within a 50-mile radius of almost any point in America, not to mention dozens of websites. I was fortunate to find classes offered in a quaint-they're all quaint-little shop nearby and taught by a wonderful teacher.

The first thing I learned was that my cutter, ruler, and mat were too small, good for small piecing projects but not large enough for most projects I would undertake.

Then there is fabric. Common belief is that most quilts in early American history were pieced from whatever scraps a woman had available, usually leftover from handmade clothing. In fact, most women did buy fabric just for the purpose of making quilts and they also developed many, many patterns. These patterns began appearing in the "women's sections" of newspapers and magazines. They are now available through any library, if not in the library's own collection they are available through inter-library loan systems.

My instructor helped me pick a beginner's level class so that I wouldn't try a project that soon would frustrate me and cause me to abandon it. She also helped me pick complementary fabrics that worked in quilting best. The fabric of choice is the "fabric of our lives," cotton. Of course, quilts can be made of virtually any fabric, but cotton is the sturdiest and it holds a crease and won't unravel as many other fabrics do. Holding a crease often is useful, as you will see as you develop your skills.

In group classes we learned to wash, dry, and iron the fabric and then how to straighten its grain, the direction the threads run in its weave. Cutting fabric on a bias, or any diagonal angle can be very wrong or very right, depending upon the pattern and how the pieces fit together. The teacher demonstrated how to layer or stack fabrics so that several strips of fabric could be cut precisely all at the same time. Often these are stitched together, and cut again, always after careful pressing.

That's one place where holding a crease comes into play. Once fabric is pieced, or stitched together, the seams must be pressed in a careful way so that multiple seams can come together precisely and so that they don't show through the lighter fabrics when finally sandwiched into the quilt.

Finishing involves the careful selection of filling, backing, and thread, depending on how the quilt is to be used (light for summer, heavy for winter, hand stitched or machine). A quilt isn't a quilt until it's quilted; a pieced top that is sandwiched with filling and backing fabric and then held together by tying is called a comforter, not a quilt.

Then there is the task of figuring out how best to quilt your "masterpiece." In addition to piecing projects, all those books and magazines offer hundreds of designs and dozens of techniques to complement your pieced top.

I never thought I would enjoy hand quilting. I considered myself a piecer. I was notorious for letting garments that I had made languish because the final step was the hand-stitched hem, which I hated to do. But, I learned that special quilting thread was treated so as not to tangle as regular thread can do so easily. Also, I realized that quilting is supposed to show, whereas the hard part of hemming was to keep stitches invisible. It made all the difference in the world to me and suddenly I was using a thimble and stitching away.

Finally there is the finishing touch: binding the edges together. Again, there are several ways to bind quilts, all just as important as the fabric you selected, and there are books entirely focused on binding techniques.

Many an evening now has become productive time for me. Always a multi-tasker driven to do something productive, I always had found it difficult to just sit down in front of the television with my family. I'd feel that there were other more important things I should be doing, even though family time was important. I felt no guilt at all in grabbing a hand-stitching project and settling in. I've even been known to quilt in trains, planes (before 911 when things like needles and scissors were banned), and even cars (on smooth roads only as we don't want any pricked fingers bleeding into the fabric).

Quilting in public places, like airports, doctors' waiting rooms, and even churches and classrooms, always attracts attention in the nicest way. People are drawn to their beauty, recalling quilts one of their ancestors or relatives have made, and marveling at your patience. Little do they know how easy quilting has become. You'll be the envy of everyone you know. The downside to that however, is that everyone you know will want you to make one for them.

On a final note, just as quilting has spawned a new industry, quilt guilds have formed in virtually every city, and every quilt shop knows how to connect with them. Guilds are fun as well as instructive, and you will develop some of the best girlfriends (mostly) ever, who are ever ready to help you when you hit snags. They also are the path to quilt shows, where you can show off your handiwork and win some well-deserved praise and awards.

So, go ahead! Family members will cherish your work of art, and remember stories about them, long after you're gone. My mother has passed, but I, my brother, and our children always feel her love and remember happy, and some sad, times in her quilts. I also have all of her quilting gear and unfinished projects calling my name. Happy stitching.

Published by Janeen Burkholder

I have been a writer, editor, and photographer for weekly and daily newspapers, monthly magazines, & newsletters. I served an internship in the Illinois Statehouse pressroom. I also taught college journalis...  View profile

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