As promised, here are some photographs of some of the textiles that have been entrusted to my care. I will keep adding to this exhibit in the next several months.
My father's first pulpit was in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The kilt pictured above is made out of Nova Scotia tartan wool. My oldest sister was born in Halifax and received a baby sized pleated skirt with straps when she was born.
My parents stayed close to several of their Halifax friends. When they would visit us, in Quincy, they would often bring a skirt. We all went to Halifax when I was 12. We all got kilts. My friennd Shauna who grew up in Halifax tells me that these treasured kilts are in the eyes of Haligonians, not the treasures we assumed them to be, but the Haligonian equivalent of an I heart NY t-shirt.
Never the less, my daugher has worn some of these skirts over the years. One is with her in China and will be worn against the chilly winds of Harbin.
As this is being written, I am hand washing two of the skirts.The wool has gotten brittle and a wash and a rinse in hair conditioner seems to be doing the trick and making the wool wearable again.
This is my parents' Chuppah. Uncle Sol owned a fabric store on the Lower East Side. He had this brocade chuppah made for my parents. My father married many couples under this chuppah over the years.
When I was 16, one of my father's congregants remarried after being widowed for a long time. She was probably in her 70's. I was one of the chuppah pole holders in the ceremony that was performed in her condo. For years after she used to love to tell people that I held the chuppah at her wedding.
My father's first pulpit was in Halifax, Nova Scotia. The kilt pictured above is made out of Nova Scotia tartan wool. My oldest sister was born in Halifax and received a baby sized pleated skirt with straps when she was born.My parents stayed close to several of their Halifax friends. When they would visit us, in Quincy, they would often bring a skirt. We all went to Halifax when I was 12. We all got kilts. My friennd Shauna who grew up in Halifax tells me that these treasured kilts are in the eyes of Haligonians, not the treasures we assumed them to be, but the Haligonian equivalent of an I heart NY t-shirt.
Never the less, my daugher has worn some of these skirts over the years. One is with her in China and will be worn against the chilly winds of Harbin.
As this is being written, I am hand washing two of the skirts.The wool has gotten brittle and a wash and a rinse in hair conditioner seems to be doing the trick and making the wool wearable again.
This is my parents' Chuppah. Uncle Sol owned a fabric store on the Lower East Side. He had this brocade chuppah made for my parents. My father married many couples under this chuppah over the years.When I was 16, one of my father's congregants remarried after being widowed for a long time. She was probably in her 70's. I was one of the chuppah pole holders in the ceremony that was performed in her condo. For years after she used to love to tell people that I held the chuppah at her wedding.
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