Photo courtesy Flickr
Glass artist Dale Chihuly nailed the essence of local culture with his collections of local tribal baskets, the finest in the world, and of Last Go Round bedding.
It’s not really bedding: it’s furniture, architecture, art, and wardrobe all rolled into one compact bundle. With a cotton warp and fine wool weft, one of these blankets holds its shape and is just boardy enough to offer a sense of structure. In the field, it’s colorful on a tent floor, cheerful in a rustic cabin, and, I have found, very useful right in the middle of town.
The in-house archaeologist can’t resist them, and I have found that his prizes have become the dominant textile motif in the house. That’s fine with me: it’s primarily a work space, and we’re nearly always on the same page about how to manage it.
I’m sitting in one of the blankets as I write. I draped it over a director’s chair, took my place, and folded the robe, as the label calls it, around my legs and shoulders. It will keep me comfortable until the heat comes up.
I used a blanket instead of a mattress pad on one of the beds upstairs. It gives a finished look to the bed when it's not made up, inviting day use and saving space. The pillows are covered with a highly textured unbleached cotton pique’. Portrait linen would serve as well. It’s trivial to add a bottom sheet and duvet for night use, and removing the bedding keeps the room well-aired.
It simplifies inventory to have blankets that can move from parlor to field without a hiccup. As they age, the sound portions can be made into vests or jackets. Worn sections make good upholstery, pillow covers, or little satchels.
The blankets may be an acquired taste. I pointed out a vest with buffalo nickel buttons to an Oxonian acquaintance, and she shuddered. Northwest natives know how very recently the area belonged to the tribes.
-30 More after the jump.