I suppose it was inevitable. Especially with how taken I’ve been with crochet lately. And I blame a project I’ve been working on at Effiloché, but this week I’ve been really taken with this crochet doily I’ve been working on.
Considering how much I love working on knitted lace, this really should be no surprise. But making doilies isn’t really something I’ve ever explored much, or even thought of making.
The white doily, made with fine crochet cotton & tiny hook on the top of a well polished antique table is the pinnacle of grandmotherliness for me. It’s exactly the sort of thing you’d find at my great-grandmother’s apartment, along with the porcelain figurines and complete set of collectible porcelain teacups, all inside an antique glass case in the dining room.
The associations I have with doilies is probably the sort of association most people have with granny square blankets, maybe. For the record, great-grandma preferred rippled crocheted afghans to granny squares, and if something were made from scraps, you’d never know it. Her version of “home made” projects were properly tailored, double-breasted peacoats & matching over-trousers for all the children, grand children & great-grand children which, I’m told, were sometimes made from old overcoats.
What was I talking about? Doilies. Right. So I’ve seen my share of aged, once white doilies in my time that it’s not something I would consider having on my dresser or sideboard (I’m not big on porcelain figures or china teacups either). I think mostly because I’m not a big knick-knack kind of person, although I’m sure part of it is the association with old stuff (though usually I’m quite the fan of old things). I guess doilies get a bad rap, and now that I’ve been working on one, I’m not sure why. Hooking this doily has been satisfying the same part of me that lace knitting usually does.
And I often joke that I’m a cranky old lady anyways.