“So this is your first Quilt Market?” I can’t tell you how many times I got that question from complete strangers at the International Quilt Market in Houston last month. I found myself constantly wondering How do they know? It’s possible that I put off a distinct greenhorn vibe, but it’s much more likely that people were reading the obvious signs. I was told to wear comfortable shoes; I interpreted this as “wear your plainest three-inch heels.” So teetering around with swollen ankles asking questions like “are you a distributor or a manufacturer?”, breezing obliviously past quilting celebrities, and staring blankly when demonstrators asked about my favorite quilting tools might have given me away. Just maybe.

Yes, it was my first Quilt Market as editor of FaveQuilts.com, and I was not prepared, neither for my obvious inexperience nor for the sheer scope and size of the show. When I told my parents I was flying to Houston for a quilting trade show, my father incredulously asked, “people come from all over the country for this show?” “No, Dad,” I said with an air of condescension, “they come from all over the world.” Little did I realize, the world is a pretty big place when it comes to quilting! I couldn’t help but gasp as I arrived in the press room on October 29th and looked out through giant circular windows at the expansive show floor below. The booths stretched on forever like a small city, and the labyrinthine aisles of the gallery next door ambled across two entire halls of the George R. Brown Convention Center.

View from the Press Room at International Quilt Market

The fall International Quilt Market is a mecca for professional quilters worldwide, hosting nearly 600 exhibitors and thousands more attendees this year. As I began to walk the floor, I was overwhelmed by the number of people and the endless corridors of booths. I couldn’t have visited every single booth if I had been there for an entire week! Many Quilt Market veterans told me that the show felt more subdued than in years past, but I had trouble imagining how there could have been more of a hubbub in the convention center. The large fabric companies seemed to have their desks filled with quilt shop buyers from morning ’til night, and even the smallest booths were constantly buzzing with demonstrations of new gadgets and quilting techniques.

One of the aspects of Quilt Market I had not expected was the breadth of quilting styles and fashions represented on the floor. As I have developed FaveQuilts.com in the past 6 months, I have found the online quilting community remarkably sensitive to fads, almost to its detriment. In contrast, the variety of exhibitors at Quilt Market proved the diversity of the greater quilting community. Companies like Leilani Arts and Royal & Langnickel peddled such unlikely quilting products as novelty yarns and fabric paintbrushes to adventurous art quilters, while small booths like Geoff’s Mom Pattern Co. ensured that beautiful examples of primitive applique maintained a presence amid the abundance of modern quilts.

Primitive applique quilt from Geoff’s Mom Pattern Co.

I had seen many art quilts on the Internet but none in person before attending Quilt Market. After seeing and photographing award-winning quilts myself at the show, I became a quilt evangelist. I insisted that our entire staff peruse my album and bargained with friends and family members about how many quilt photos they would be forced to sit through. In my attempt to convert my entire social circle into quilt lovers, I thoughtfully chose which quilt photos I would show to each person, pinpointing motifs and techniques would capture their artistic sensibilities before they lost interest. I am now convinced that we should all have quilts hanging on our walls instead of paintings!

At Fall Quilt Market, I learned so much about the quilting world and about Market itself. I learned to wear flats, to bring twice as many business cards as I thought I needed, and to surreptitiously infer what a company does before embarrassing myself with the question. I also learned how wide the quilting world is, how creative quilters are, and how beautiful quilts can be. Finally, I feel like I know how to walk into a quilt show prepared, and I can’t wait for Spring Quilt Market. Kansas City, here I come!

As editor of FaveQuilts.com, I see hundreds of quilts every day from the isolation of my computer desk, but I have to admit it’s been a long time since I’ve actually been in the same room as a quilt that isn’t mine. I don’t know many quilters in my area, and my semi-rural hometown in the north Chicago suburbs is too small to host a train station, much less a quilt shop. But it just so happens that right down the street from me, tucked into a forest preserve between a few farms and cycling paths, is the Lake County Discovery Museum, which is currently hosting a quilt exhibit as part of Northern Illinois Quilt Fest.

I would never have known about the quilt exhibit (or even the museum) if I hadn’t made a friend who works there and sent me this blog post about the Benwell Crazy Quilt. I was intrigued to find out that the quilt was made over a century ago just a mile or two from my home. I can’t help but get shivers just thinking about it! The quilt incorporates pieces of buckskin that were used to carry treasure back from the 1848 gold rush.

Once I had seen the photos of this quilt and I knew there was a whole room full of fabric bits steeped in history waiting just down the road, I had to visit. Although the Quilt Treasures exhibit was small, it made me think a lot about the way quilts speak to us. The simplest handmade quilt is like a love note from the quilter to the recipient — a tactile greeting card that transmits comfort and care from one person to another. From this point, a quilt can grow exponentially in its potential for expression. I was struck by how much the quilts in the exhibit talked. The plain quilts that were simply pieced together and quilted seemed hushed compared to the lively chatter of the signature quilts and crazy quilts the museum had collected. I particularly enjoyed this simply constructed quilt put together by the Lake County Homemakers Extension Association nearly half a century ago.

The block quilt, which reminds me of a modern t-shirt quilt in a way, features embroidered squares representing the many communities in the Association. These blocks are more than just impressive embroidery samples; they talk about the ways that each community is pictured by its inhabitants. As a lifelong Lake County resident, it surprises me to see the enduring qualities of each village as well as the natural beauty of the region represented faithfully in each square.
I was also fascinated by the signature quilts, which functioned as petitions and charity drives that allowed women to voice their opinions and campaign for causes. One of the signature quilts even includes important information like marriages and deaths. These quilts are not just domestic crafts; they are a form of media and a record of history.

While the signature quilts represent a community effort, like a newspaper, the crazy quilts read like personal journals. The collections of novelty fabric and bits of clothing and other textiles carry significance for the women who created them. As you trace the bright patterns of embroidery, you can’t help but think about how much time the creator spent with the quilt. Day in and day out she held the quilt in her hands, working through every mood. This dedication to the craft becomes even more apparent when you look even closer at the scraps in the quilt. Some of the hand embroidered patches are so obviously time consuming, and in the Benwell quilt there is even a hand-painted scene of the family’s farm in Lake County. The haphazard piecing and mixed media of crazy quilts allows quilters the freedom to imbue their quilts with their own personality, emotions, and sense of design.

In the quilting community, we often talk about the importance of labeling a quilt for posterity, but I begin to wonder why we put bylines on quilts that haven’t said anything. If I piece a few yards of fabric together in an established pattern, I can certainly credit myself as the creator, but does it make any difference if I or another quilter ran it through the sewing machine? I’m inspired by this exhibit to speak through my quilts about my family, my thoughts, and my daily life. It’s not an itch to express metaphysical truths through art; it’s a plain desire to be known, to connect, and to tell a story in a form of communication that is tangible, visible, and meaningful.

What would your crafts say if they ended up in a museum some day? Have you ever thought about it?