precious tatters

I had a friend at university whose family were tenants on a dairy farm in Cheshire. When I went visit there were lots of large cows, three sons, a freezer full of meat, and the loveliest, brightest rag rug I’d ever seen. It was made by his Mum, and it was a spot of joyful, colourful creativity amidst a dun and muddy working environment.

[John Hinchcliffe (c1975), V&A]

Since then, I’ve retained a soft spot for a rug rag, but have rarely seen any, except in one or two Landmark Trust properties. Which is as it should be, as many LT places are just the right sort of cosy, warm, traditional, imperfect but liveable buildings where you’d expect to find a hand-made rug by the fire and definitely a milk bottle on the table.

[short shaggy]

I like the mix of shagginess, texture, informality, and cluttered scraps of fabric held together on hessian. They are like old-fashioned frilly knickers or ruched swimming costumes or rustic versions of fringed flapper dresses. They can be stroked, shaken, tousled, played with; as with smocking, which I enjoy so much, the process of hooking or prodding transforms flat fabrics into 3D textures which change and move with handling and use.

[Lu Mason]

Rag rugs also appeal to modern sensibilities, and I am surprised there isn’t more interest in them. Making them requires just a hook (but you could use a crochet hook), some hessian (ridiculously cheap, or use an old sack), a bag of rags, and off you go. It’s so simple and very much in keeping with ideas about recycling, repurposing, reducing wastage, and rediscovery of traditional crafts .

[Phoebe Brocket (2023), private collection]

So Phoebe and I decided to go on a one-day workshop run by Ragged Life. We learned three basic methods which sound like cartoon characters - Shaggy, Short Shaggy, and Loopy - and got rag-rugging

[Elspeth Jackson at Ragged Life]

It didn’t take long to realise that although the method is simple, making a rag rug does require some level of skill and decision-making: scrap thickness, the direction in which you cut knitted fabrics, tension, spacing and, most importantly, choice of suitable fabrics. These are not necessarily the ones you love most, far from it, in fact.

[shaggy and short shaggy sunflower]

Something you would never wear, or a colour or fibre you would normally run a mile from may very well brilliantly. I began a cushion cover with some of my favourite quilting cottons, but as they are relatively thick and firm, they are difficult to pull through, and because they are printed on one side the brighter designs have a high contrast between front and back (both of which show). So what I thought would be good turned out muddied and dull - and that was even before people have wiped their feet on it.

[Lu Mason]

As the name suggests, rags really are good: old sheets, worn-out shirts, soft T-shirts, charity shop finds, things you might clean your bike with. But - and this probably wipes out all of the good intentions above - it has to be said that fine, new, expensive fabrics such as Tana lawn, silk, and poplin also work beautifully.

[‘Work’ (1852-65) by Ford Madox Brown in Manchester Art Gallery]

It’s possible that the word ‘rag’ doesn’t help the craft’s image, but we couldn’t think of anything better than doesn’t sound like a euphemism (‘fabric fragments', ‘found fabrics’). I would suspect that many people don’t really like to think about the associations with ragged lives, dirt, poverty, and the clothes worn by many of Dickens’ characters - and the children in my favourite painting in Manchester (above).

[Lu Mason]

Then I came across ‘Reading Victorian Rags’, an article by Deborah Wynne in the Journal of Material Culture (2015), in which rags are shown to be a ‘valuable commodity’ which were - and still are - processed and turned into new clean white paper (‘cotton rag’). It explains why Harriet Martineau described them as ‘precious tatters’, which is perhaps a good way to view them today.

[Lu Mason]

The one aspect of rag rugs which I haven’t yet mentioned is design. As with many a rediscovered craft, new approaches revitalise an old form. A random mix of rags or stripes, blocks, or squares are all possibilities, but there are also some excellent new directions. Lu Mason was the first artist to have a rag rug in the Royal Academy; her Magician rug was selected by Yinka Shonibare for the 2021 Summer Show. She uses the loop method to create clear lines for patterns, images, and words, all with a distinctly folk-art, fairground feel and palette, which I think are the perfect match for the materials and process.

[Peapods rag rug by Debbie Siniska]

Debbie Siniska, Heather Ritchie and Louisa Creed have all taken rag rug designs to new levels, and of course Kaffe has been there.

[Kaffe Fassett]

Rag rugs were often made in poorer and working households then used until they were worn out and thrown away; they may have been much loved but not necessarily preserved and valued as a form of material culture and domestic history. So, with a lack of references, and certainly no rules, it’s a craft which has to be and can be reinvented however you wish.

Last note i: I highly recommend Elspeth’s Ragged Life website, blog, shop, workshops, and rugs.

Last note ii: despite all the rag rug appreciation, I have a problem. I have discovered that my eyes are irritated horribly by working with hessian; it must be something to do with the fibres which are shed, or it’s an allergy. Hessian (burlap) is the perfect substrate, I know, but I’m wondering if rug canvas or something else might work? Any suggestions would be very welcome.

Happy Sunday!