I was sorting through my attic recently and I came across the bead collection I've had since I was a teenager. Where once these beads were neatly sorted into separate compartments, now they are a mix and match effect, having been thrown around during too many moves.
I used to make jewelry. Every Christmas, my relatives were routinely afflicted with these creations. Having said this, I occasionally see my Aunt or Mother sporting one of these pieces, and I know, after more than fifteen years, they have stood they test of time, and are no longer being worn through a sense of obligation.
There have been several occasions when I have been tempted to give them away. I have a few friends with ten year old daughters who'd really appreciate them. I feel mean. Theoretically, I would be much happier knowing someone else was getting pleasure from them, but it's a much loved collection, and I'm reluctant to part with them. Besides, I have an intuitive voice telling me it's something I might go back to one day.
And I'm still tempted by bead shops, still find myself drawn through their doors before I know what I'm doing. I realise there's no point, but it doesn't stop me ogling the neat rows, fantasising about what I could make. I'm the same with charity shops. I finger broken pieces of jewelery, debating how I could transform them, then remember I don't even know where my pliers are anymore.
However, I have been relieved to find out this collecting of craft materials is generational. I helped my mother to sort out her attic a few weeks ago, and came across several black bags full of small scraps of material. She used to do a lot of dressmaking and has kept the remnants of all the material she's used from the last thirty years. She made an amazing crazy patchwork when she was pregnant with me, and whilst she has never made another one since, she must have the same intuitive voice.
My mother also has trunks of material she's inherited from female relations, not to mention boxes of ribbon and lace. Beautiful old biscuit tins, stuffed with interesting bits and bobs, which I've always wanted to use, but have never known how. I have always been too worried that whatever I created wouldn't be good enough to justify breaking up the collection.
It's made me think of our matriarchal heritage. I've long believed feminism should reclaim traditional “womanly” activities, and maybe these collections are a way of passing on this heritage. There is something both special, and intriguing about these hoardings, something going beyond materialism and accumulation.
But is this really an excuse? Surely if I am committed to passing on these crafts, I should be giving them to the next generation of women – my friend's daughters? Perhaps I need to re-evaluate my possessive nature, let go of the past, and help reclaim the future.
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