When we make things around here, we make them slowly, and with a whole lot of heart.

—The Folkling Field Kerchief—



Introducing the first made-to-order design in the Folkling Heirloom collection.



This is a piece I dreamed up and designed over a year ago, and finally bringing it to life for you all feels akin to getting back to my roots and the kind of dreams I had back in 2010 when I used to design and knit for a living.

I spent a very small window of that season pursuing what I called at the time “sustainable knitwear”.


A phrase and term that was mostly foreign in the marketplace and consumer mindset during those years. I spent time learning how to process my own fleeces, spin wool, knit and create garments in a start-to-finish concept that I called “from sheep to sweater”.

Our homes are special places. They are tactile expressions of ourselves. Our interests and passions and the things we find beauty and importance in. It is always a really special feeling when someone finds beauty and importance in something I’ve found and saved and tried to continue the story of.

It’s like a multi person contract of intention to continue the usefulness of a time-worn article.

Something I find a lot of value in, amidst a world that is forever telling you that more-more-more and new-new-new is better.You may not know—Folkling actually started as a primarily vintage homewares centric venture in 2017.

It has of course expanded into Owen and I’s very deep love of clothes and other wearable objects, as well as quality handmade things, but at the end of the day I think that the special little pieces in our homes that convey an often untold story are what I am most drawn to.

While we have certainly spent some time transforming quilt tops into garments, there are endless other uses for them that are arguably more timeless and convey and emphasis the artistry of the piece work overall, than in cutting and piecing it back together for a shirt.

That being said, you may or may not realize that there is often a reason that certain quilt tops were never actually finished into quilts. Often they were pieced together irregularly, making the finished top entirely too asymmetrical and a nightmare to try to square up into a quilt. There’s a lot of math and precision involved in quilting which is necessary for an adequate outcome.

Of course this is not always the case, it’s plausible that it just came down to people being more excited about starting another new quilt top vs. finishing the one they just made into a quilt (a very relatable habit in our own sewing lives here…).

We can only speculate. However, we certainly value the resourcefulness and ingenuity that comes with finding alternative uses for cast-off things, and while many of you may have the skills and desire necessary to finish a quilt top into a complete quilt (we certainly have a secret stash of them at the shop that we hope to do the same with one day..) there are a large variety of fun and inventive uses for these left-behind textiles that showcase their beauty and we’ve compiled a list below for you!

Sometimes Owen and I joke that we should have a museum instead of a store… we both are drawn to objects that tell of the evolution of our country’s industry and invention. To things that were made substantially, with quality as the rule, vs. the exception. To things made to last. To things that it takes you a minute to figure out what-the-heck it is. As such we often acquire quite the collection of, what we’ve come to call—Oddities.

A short story with a Mending Monday theme: We recently listed a few antique clothespins in our web shop, but before doing so, we found among the collection a handful that were wrapped with wire…

Very curious.

We pondered the reason for a few moments before it dawned on us that these select few had weaknesses, or cracks in the wood, that were threatening to split the clothespin.

I am excited to share with you, what we are hoping will be a regular new series here— Folkling Tablescapes.

What is a tablescape? You might be wondering.

By definition, it’s the arrangement of items on a table that produces and attractive and decorative effect, often with matching plates, bowls, etc.

Or, more specifically in our case, foraged flowers, cloth napkins, vintage vessels, candles and probably an excess of antique textiles…

“For it is only framed in space that beauty blooms” —Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I read this sentence on the last day of July and I realized all-at-once that it was what I needed to hear to be led gently into August.

Indeed, space is what I have had this past month.

From work, from social media, from screens and certain recurring stressors as a whole.

I wasn’t fully able to press *pause* on all of the things that usher a life from day to day of course and go full on Walden.

There were still bills to pay, grocery shopping and laundry to be done, family to visit, friends to see, appointments to be kept, cars to fix, corners to vacuum, flowers to water, lists to be crossed off…

But it was decidedly much less than what has been my usual daily fullness these last few years.

It probably wouldn’t surprise you to know just how often Folkling is discussed in our home. When something occupies most of your waking hours, there isn’t much space for anything else.

What may surprise you, is how often the conversation turns to us asking one another:

“Are we making a difference?”

Which comes wholly from a genuine desire to make the world a better place.

But at times, it sounds like a person who is willing to lay down their life for a cause and simultaneously unconvinced their sacrifice will help win the war.

But life is more of a journey than a fight, and you will never get to where you’re trying to go if you just keep the gas pedal pinned to the floor.

With that being said, Folkling will not be open for the month of July.

Back in the mid 2000s I used to blog quite regularly, and in 2016 I wrote a post titled:

What To Do When You're Overwhelmed & Spreading Yourself Too Thin: A 7 Part Guide by A Girl Who Used To Be The Queen Of Doing Too Much

Albeit wordy, (something I still haven’t grown out of) this post was one of my most popular on my blog for years. One that even still gets really strange high google analytic numbers and is one of the most clicked on things on my old website. It even got published in a tangible quarterly magazine at the time.

I recently came across it again, and in re-reading it was struck by how confident I was in the thoughts I was communicating, how convicted I was in what I was writing. Not to say that I don’t have that feeling now when I write, but in regards to overwhelm specifically — A feeling I seem to inhabit more often than not lately, I have all but forgotten that there was ever a time I didn’t feel this way.

That, coupled with the fact that this message, this idea of spreading yourself too thin and our desire to continually figure out how to not do that, led me to consider publishing this post here on the Folkling Journal.

Hello friends, I am popping onto the journal today to let you know that I am in Portland Oregon and tomorrow, June 17th I am popping up with a special Folkling collection at my friend Anna’s studio — Experimental Vintage.

It’s going to be a lot of fun, so if you are in the area (or are hankering for a road trip), come on by!

Portland is always a place I feel very much at home in, and it feels really wonderful to be back once again. Can’t wait to see you West Coast friends!

P.S. Possibly oversharing but, using the word “popping” so many times in this post made me think of this…. anyone else?

As our travel schedule allows—

We are now accepting appointments to shop at the Folkling brick & mortar

Monday — Thursday

(Sorry, no Sundays!)

As is so often the case—in times of distress, the simpler and more elemental aspects of life are where we derive the most comfort.

The steady voice of your Dad over the phone,

a bundle of flowers from a friend,

your Moms daily check-in texts,

the ability to have the windows open to let in the fresh rain saturated air,

music coming from another room in the house,

the familiarity and unfiltered way with which you can have a late night discussion with your best friend about the names they could give their almost-here baby that would involve the least amount of mocking from other children,

the tactile feel of antique cotton pulled taught in an embroidery hoop and the soft pop-swish sound of a sewing needle drawing thread through it,

your husbands arms around you time and time again, holding you up and together consistently and constantly.

Within 24 hours of landing in Greece, my phone broke. It doesn’t really matter how, it’s a long not-interesting saga that I won’t bore you with.

(A foresight I wish a couple I recently got cornered by at a party had. They’d backed me up against a table and for thirty minutes they made me stand there listening to their latest technological issues with Apple. When I think of what it means to feel claustrophobic and trapped, this moment defines that for me.Hot tip: Do not think your Apple store experience is a fun party anecdote. It’s not. We have all had some horrific Apple store experience. We don’t want to relive it through hearing about yours. But I digress.)

What’s important is that I found myself in a foreign country without my phone and a slight panic settling over me and the following thoughts:

I value things that have versatility and can serve multiple uses and purposes in my home. Pieces that can be moved around and be enjoyed in different vignettes to make a space feel new. To further the call to buy well, but buy less, find enjoyment in what we already own, and find new ways to use it. This very special collection of antique homespun will first be available in the brick & mortar this Friday, and online next week. Head to the Homespun  Instagram highlight if you want a few ideas of how to use them in your home!

This is a story about motion.

About an upward and action oriented take on what it means to preserve something.

There is value in opening your perspective, listening to the stories and opinions of others, and the change in direction that can often come from it.

As a result, I believe in the beauty of transformation and redemption.

When it comes to textiles— I believe above all in preserving what we find and appreciating pieces as they are, which largely involves finding beauty in their imperfections. But there is sometimes a shift needed in order to learn to appreciate something. To recognize its beauty, and even in some cases— enhance it.

I believe there is also a call to share the beauty that we find with the world.

When it comes to quilts— I save far more than I cut.

I have to confess, this collection was supposed to be larger…

There has been a stack of red and white quilts sitting on the bench in my hallway for months waiting very patiently for this Valentines Day moment.

But then, when I finally started unfolding them… I realized I’d started to get attached to quite a few

Objectively, the ones here in the shop for you tonight are still the best of them… the others are a little more common in pattern and not as rare or intricate or ornate. And yet I just sort of got used to seeing half of them around and can’t quite seem to part with them.

So back into the quilt stack they go.

For now.

(Although to be completely transparent there are at this point several stacks around my house…)

I confess, writing this blog post is mostly for my own benefit and satisfaction. A collective montage memorial of sorts, to more permanently honor, all together, these incredible pieces made by so many hands across the decades.

Admittedly, the time I take to document these collections is enormous. I haven’t been a responsible small business owner and calculated the time as a whole, but with the four-step photo process I confessed to having on Instagram yesterday (shooting the quilts on a bed, then on me, then hung on a wall, then extensive detailed shots of their flaws if any…) it is no wonder I can only manage one collection a month!

We feel that society has turned a corner. Old and worn is being embraced as beautiful, of value, and significant. The history of a well-made garment that is worn-well is preferred over a garment of questionable quality made by questionable means.

That is all of course a huge part of our ethos here at Folkling.

The future is vintage.