Rags to Riches by Helen Chappell
One of my earliest memories is crawling around on the rag rug on my bedroom f loor. I remember the colors and the pattern and the rough textures. Seeing a rag rug brings back memories like few other things. There was a revival of interest in Early American style after World War II, and my parents hopped on it. Antiques were the thing for them, while other people hopped on the austere teak Scandinavian style now making a comeback as Mid-century Modern.
But Early American was my parents’ passion, and I still have two Chester County case pieces they picked up somewhere before my brother and I were born. I also still have the quilt I had as a baby, even though it’s worn and ragged. It was made by some North Carolina relative, so it’s got sentimental value. The shelter magazines of the ’50s were filled with Early American, both real and reproduction. It might have been a century and a half since anyone had used a spinning wheel, but if you look at the
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