As the second of my two-in-a-day shopping posts, this bargain hunt was not what I expected. After G Street yesterday, I grabbed a quick lunch with hubs and then we closed on our new house. New to us, anyway. (Sooo relieved. Much has changed in the home-buying process in recent years, as it should, but I can’t say I enjoyed it.)
So today I ran to my local Goodwill store. We have plates and utensils in our stuff that’s still in transit from across the ocean, but who knows how long it will take to get here. My goal was to grab some basics to wash, use, wash and return to Goodwill when we no longer need them. If I find something I want to keep, great, but it’s nice shopping when there’s no pressure to choose something I want to look at for years.
What I was not expecting to find was this. Mrs. Jewell’s sewing kit.
In the top tray, vintage buttons, thread, needles. Yum. Anybody know what the spongy thing is for? Maybe for wiping the drool off of my chin as I dug deeper.
A mystery box. And baggies full of…
Super meticulously kept thread. Were these left over from spools? Or did she keep what was left every time she changed her bobbin thread? I think the latter is my guess.
Inside the mystery box… bias tape, blanket binding and seam binding.
A smaller tray with more vintage thread.
Here’s where Mrs. Jewell really reminds me of my own grandmothers who had no small part in my learning to sew. Mrs. Jewell was thrifty. Saved every last bit of things. I’m guessing she also re re re reused aluminum foil and always took her leftovers home from any restaurant meal, no matter how small. Like, half a biscuit. Like my Grammy.
Brochures for “quick makes” and “How to create your matchless shape of fashion.” I need to read that, first to understand WHAT ON EARTH IT MEANS.
Vintage buttons, snaps and hook and eye closures.
A receipt that was one of several that disclosed Mrs. Jewell’s identity. $10 for service on her machine… in 1972.