The Fantastic Science of Making a Rockin' Quilt Back!

When I was first starting out as a quilter, one of the hardest things for me to do was figure out how much fabric I needed to make the right size quilt back. For years my QuiltMom tried to teach me, and I couldn't grasp the concept. One day it just clicked. 

I never realized how many of my readers are self-taught quilters like me! I'm very proud of you. Sometimes it's tough roughin' it on your own, but luckily there are so many outlets these days- YouTube, blogs, free PDF downloads directly from fabric websites, all kinds of crazy tutorials! It's bananas. 

So....question for you...

Are your backs whack? Do you need a hand?

I have two main ways that I make backs that are kind of my favorite systems. I find that if I do this, I usually don't fail!

FIRST OPTION

This is a great option for a quilt that is less than 2-widths, or about 80" inches, in length, so for a generous throw. This also works best for a multi-directional fabric, but can work for a fabric that is more linear if you take the time and plan the placement. I tend to go for really busy backs-and usually sale fabric. I'm giving away all my secrets now!

50"

60"

Let's just say for the sake of example that your desired quilt back is 50x60 inches- maybe a throw, maybe not, but a little larger than a baby-sized quilt. What's the perfect amount of fabric to cut without wasting a bunch? Note: this is for the desired quilt back size- if you are a home quilter or a long-armer, your requirements may differ. Usually a long-arm quilter needs at least 6 inches extra on the width and length, but most home machine quilters require very little difference between top size and back size. Just a helpful tidbit! 

Back to the numbers. I would take the longest side of the quilt- the 60" part- and focus only on that number. I would then cut a 60" piece.  Take that number and divide it in half-in our case, 30"-and then cut a 30" piece. 

Here comes the tricky part!!!!!!!!!

Slice the piece of fabric on the fold, slice the selvages off (optional, but I like to do it because it's nice and clean and makes our long-arm quilter happy) and put those pieces on top of each other and stitch them together. Don't sew them together exactly the same way you sliced them apart, because that'll defeat the purpose (can't you tell I've done that before?!). Length of fabric, not width of fabric. 

Then, press your seams- some argue pressing to one side, in the case of backs, not only do I like to do a little larger seam, like a 3/8" seam, but I like to press them open to distribute the bulk a little bit. Just me though, you are free to do whatever makes the prettiest quilt. After pressing you'll find that you have almost the same size piece as the 60" piece you cut earlier! Cut one side of the selvage off of your 60" and sew the piece you just made to that piece. Then cut the other selvage off. I always cut it off last, so I don't get confused about which side to sew on-a good habit for a beginner who is just learning the number aspect of quilting, or someone like me who sometimes gets numbers confused. 

Now, you should have a back that looks like the picture! 

Tip: I tend to draw this out on paper if I am trying to figure out the right pieces to cut. It helps a lot to draw it so that you can plan the placement of the pieces. If you are confused, email me at remnantsfiberculture at gmail dot com and I can explain it more in depth. 

SECOND OPTION

If you prefer to use a directional fabric, this back may be a better option.

This is also a great option for a quilt that is just slightly larger than a width of fabric (a net of about 40") but too small to justify using two widths of fabric. It's also great if you have a back that is larger than 2 widths of fabric but smaller than 3- I'm sure you get the idea.

For the sake of example, let's say the width of your quilt is 52 and the length is 70. We can assume that we'll yield about 40 inches from the width of the fabric. If we split our fabric on the fold, we'll get the two yellow pieces. The [teal] piece can be about 12-13 inches wide, and you'll need to seam it once, so I'd buy 3/4 of a yard just to be safe of your [teal] piece. Seam your [teal] piece together and sew it to one side of the [yellow], and then to the other side. I like to trim the excess off after I'm done seaming both sides, and then the selvages last. I personally cut my selvages off before I pin it on the quilting machine, because I find that the selvages tug a little bit and are a slightly tighter weave than the rest of the fabric.

52-ish

70ish

Crisp, clean and to the point.

THIRD OPTION

Same concept, but for our asymmetrical friends, or for those of us that can't cut straight and want our eye to trick us a little bit. (Guilty as charged!)

I come to find that I use these back techniques in my everyday quilting life, and I would be lost if I haven't figured out these simple concepts.

There are a million other ways to make backs, including using orphan quilt blocks that didn't make it to the top. I'm sure I'll be posting more soon!

I wanted to highlight an awesome quilter that frequents my shop and always delivers a slightly different style. She's great with batiks and great with modern and non-traditional style quilts.

Molly Guzzino made this for a family member that was getting married. They loved it so much, they took it on their honeymoon with them!

This is a little bit of closeup detail. I was honored to be the gal that got to quilt this for the lucky couple! The pattern is by Karla Alexander from the book Color Shuffle. This particular pattern is called Somersault. As Molly explained it to me, you start out making a straight seam, and then it turns into a curved seam and is apparently a really easy technique. I'll be sure to borrow or buy the book so that I can get in on this easy curves action!

I love to show off quilts that I've quilted, or quilts that are just plain awesome. If you'd like to take my mind off rap music for a while and back onto quilts (haha!), shoot me an email at remnantsfiberculture[at]blogspot[dotcom] and I will show it off!

*******************************

I just want to stop again and say thank you. So many people have called and emailed me and have outpoured support. Starting a business by itself is tough, and coupling that with a very sick family member can be crippling. I'm sorry to anyone that was offended or upset by my hospital post-all I can say is, I'm a human being that at times can be sad or upset, just as all other humans I know. If your first time visiting my blog was greeted by my angry bitter life-sucks attitude, I'm sorry! I'm actually REALLY nice, promise. I'm grateful for the wonderful guests that I have that are continuing to bring me their beautiful quilts. It's my quilting that is truly getting me thru this difficult time. 

That being said, I'm starting a few meetups at my shop here in Austin starting in October. If you'd like more information about meeting up here and stitching away with some other awesome, like-minded quilters, I welcome your email to remnantsfiberculture[at]gmail[dotcom] or your phone call to 888-TO-QUILT or 512-821-1511. 

If you'd like more information about how you can send me a top to quilt for you, you can also email or call the store-I'm always there from 10-6 Tuesday thru Saturday, and I answer my email almost by the hour. 

OH! I almost forgot! I am OBSESSED with instagram!

I took this snapshot after I found this jelly roll at my sister Sammy's house. We had been playing in her stash. As if I need any more fabric! BUT. Can you believe my poor little waif, my poor Sam-Sam has NEVER HEARD OF TULA PINK?! And she had this in her stash!!! I was shocked, horrified, humiliated even. But God has blessed me with understanding- I asked her, how in the WORLD do you have this jelly roll?! I then proceeded to tell her what hideous fabric this was and how she should just throw it away, or I would be glad to take it off her hands and dispose of it properly by giving it to the little starving children. You know, the ones on tv you can sponsor for 42 cents. Then when that didn't work, I offered her $80 for it! HAHAHA! In the end, she just popped it in my bag. So Tula, baby, just sayin, I rescued this little beaute and am now going to enjoy the fruits of my labor. Tula Troops fo' life!

If you want to see photos of fabric I stole from my sister, or my homemade cooking, or whatever quilt I'm currently working on, you can follow me- @jessicaksloan is my handle. More often than not, if we have new fabric coming in, it goes up on Instagram before it goes on Facebook or Twitter!

You can follow me on both FB and Twitter too:

Twitter @fiber_culture

Facebook: http://facebook.com/remnantsfiberculture

The road back to home.

"You look the way you do because you're special
Not the short bus way, I mean that God's gonna test you
And all of this pain is training for the day when you
will have to lead with the gift God gave to you
Grown folks don't see it but the babies do
And there's a chance that you can save a few"
And time would prove that, [s]he started my movement
[S]he didn't tell me to take it - [s]he told me to use it

-Brother Ali, "Picket Fence"

Phone calls, emails and text messages flooded in after the last blog post. Many people had no idea my mom was sick. Professional mentors were worried about me. Friends thought I had gone over the deep end.

After the words escaped my fingers, hit the screen, and were permanently christened by the "send" button, I felt a sense of relief and peace that I hadn't since I started the shop. There's a lot of pressure, sometimes it makes you crack, and sometimes you just let a little vent open and the steam comes out and the pressure lessons.

Let me clarify something.

I do care, deeply and passionately, about my longarm service and about my entire shop. Remnants is not shutting down and I am not moving back to California. In fact, I am here in the shop as we speak, an hour early to work for once. I am sending emails to magazines and haunting my friend Tula with emails and tweets. I'm steadfastly planning our next fun event, and trying to get my classes filled.

This trip back home changed me permanently. I got a chance to look my past in the face and blow it a kiss goodbye. I had been haunted by all the things that make me human- mistakes I made, people I hurt and people who hurt me. I got a chance to redeem myself. I didn't speak to my sister for almost seven years, and in this trip, not only did I say I was sorry, but I had the time of my life with her! God forgives. That's all I can testify to at this point.

In times of tragedy and triumph I turn to the music that raised me. By chance I was cruising Facebook yesterday and Sage Francis's good friend and fellow rapper Brother Ali was doing a press appearance at Waterloo Records. He spit a few raps and told a bunch of really funny stories about Sage, Atmosphere, touring and how much he loves Austin.

I happened to be standing almost directly in front of him. Thruout his performance he looked me in the eye when he was spitting his rhymes. I have never made connection with any one of my mentors/idols in that way before. He looked not just at me, but thru me, deep into my soul.

Maybe he could tell that I desperately needed to tell him something, and that I felt like even though there were hundreds of people inside Waterloo he was speaking directly to me (and Mike) and nobody else.

After the show- 3 songs, all new ones- he stepped off the makeshift stage and was about to walk to a table to do a signing. I had already closed the shop down at 3:30 that day and I knew I should probably go back to the shop and finish quilting. But I felt compelled to speak to Ali. So I grabbed his arm and I said "Ali I need to tell you something."

He turned around and pierced my soul with his icy blue eyes. His snow white eyelashes fluttered and my heart skipped a beat, but I didn't stumble over my words. I told him, Ali, I've been waiting eight years to tell you thank you for writing "Picket Fence", because it's gotten me thru every tragedy and loss and pain in my heart. I'm overcome with emotion to tell you this.....thank you.

He looked at me and I knew he could feel my heart pouring out of my mouth, tears in my eyes, just wanting to show him that I too feel the connection with God and that I also feel a responsibility for social change. He told me that he was overcome with the same emotion when he wrote the song, and maybe I'm narcissistic but I think I touched him too by the sincerity and the passion by which I spoke to him about his music.

Brother Ali is a white albino who grew up in the slums of Minneapolis, tortured by the perfect pearl skinned suburban children that bullied him because of his unusual absence of color. He turned to hip hop at an early age and overcame his own demons to rise above and become one of hip hop's most critically acclaimed. I may not be albino, but I can certainly understand how it feels to be living in a world that doesn't welcome you with open arms.

Ali, if you stumble upon this, I meant what I said and I want to send you a quilt-the offer has no expiration date.

Quilters, I'm letting you know right now- I'm back, and I'm better than ever. I'm filled with peace and joy. I'm no longer angry or insecure about that I'm doing or where I'm going. I'm ready for whatever God places in my path, and I'm grateful for every message you have sent me thru this catastrophic time. I'm grateful for your support, both financial and emotional. I'm grateful for the lessons I've learned and what I know not to do as much as what I know TO do. I'm grateful that you have chosen Remnants as your full service modern quilting source, and I will continue to expand so that I can provide you with more. 

Meet me--half way to FiberCity.

Stop the presses, there's been an update
Delivered via 1:30 AM phone call
When an only half-informative source talks discreetly
Meet me... at the family room on the side of the Intensive Care Unit
Immediately, I carry a tune
The sirens so loud, can't hear my music
Keep free... of negative thoughts, everything'll be fine
We all assume... That it would go back to the way things were
That it would go back to normal soon
Saw the moon in a way that I never seen it before
When I looked up that night into the sky wondering why
Lookin' for answers, guess I ain't asked right
I'm guessin most of y'all out there know exactly what that's like
What that's like, now tell me what's that like?- Sage Francis, "Crackpipes"

Being a heavily tattooed, progressive-minded activist doesn't always fit the profile of a quilt shop owner.

In my late teens I struggled with working at the long-arm shop next door to the most ridiculously conservative, close-minded quilt shop I have ever been to in my life. I lived in Turlock, a ridiculously conservative, close-minded Bible belt in the middle of San Joaquin Valley, California. Being the free spirit that I was/am,  I couldn't understand why everyone was so rude to me. I'd smell my armpits, wondering did I put my deodorant on this morning? Do I have something in my teeth?

I felt like I imagine my gay friends felt before they came out of the closet- struggling to fit into an identity mold that wasn't mine to fill. It seems overdramatic, and maybe it is, but ten years ago the industry wasn't what it is now. There were no f*ck blocks, no hexy mf, and I'm pretty sure there were all of three quilting blogs at the time.

I felt very alone being the only quilter I knew under the age of 35. It makes a difference when you're 17.

So I retreated into my own personal quilt land.

Tula has Pinkerville, where dessert comes first and you may or may not see a March Hare on your way out of town.


 FiberCity is my fantasy urban metropolis, where all quilters have tattoos, swear like well-educated sailors, and argue about whether Sage Francis or Slug from Atmosphere was the original indie-hop artist. (Everything I have learned in my formative adult years I have learned from independent-label hip hop. Don't judge me, I'm educated.) And for the record (no pun intended), it's Sage as far as I am concerned, and I am the mayor of FiberCity so everyone respects my opinion as their leader.

Sage Francis Tribute Tattoo, inked 7-13-2008

In FiberCity, no cantankerous and negative people are allowed by order of the Fire Marshall. Everyone is loving all of the time. There are no beefs, no turf wars, no epic rap battles. There's only a synergy of creative flow that can only be explained by a compulsive need to feed fabric thru a machine that was inspired by a nitemare about cannibals. Bet you didn't know that?

***Let's digress for a minute while I drop some knowledge. ***

In 1845 Elias Howe had a nightmare about cannibals circling him with spears. When he awoke in the morning, the up-and-down motion of the spears stayed with him, and the hole in the needle became the vessel by which thread traveled, piercing the textile and permanently tattooing it into the skin of the fabric. (My inked friends would be SO proud of that metaphor. Boo-yah.)

In FiberCity, there is a Museum of Organic Jessica Sloan History, where you can learn how deeply connected the Arts Industries really are thru the history of the city's mayor. That's me, in case you weren't following. I'm also the Grand Marshall in every parade FiberCity promotes. Did I mention that I am also the aforementioned Fire Marshall as well? I wear many (or all) the hats in FiberCity. Art imitates life, right?

On your way out of FiberCity, there is a bridge with a tollway. The only way to get thru the bridge is to pay the toll. There are no dollars in FiberCity- the currency is kindness.

Crossing the bridge. Back in the real world now.

I'm sitting in the intensive care unit by my mother's bedside, monitoring oxygen intake and heart rates and blood pressure. I've bathed her today, washed her hair, shaved her legs, and put lotion on her body. I have painted her toenails. I watched her put her own makeup on with ease, her beautiful lashes lovingly stroked by the mascara that she never left the house without applying.

I also watched her eyes roll in the back of her head from the powerful potent poisons injected into her arm to try to ease the torture her body is inflicting upon her. I held her in my arms while she sobbed, her tears baptising me, explaining to me that she is still in shock and disbelief that the temple she so tediously decorated has failed her. I held my tongue, not firing back that the very same temple she defaced... with cigarettes. It was a different time back then, I soothingly say to her everytime she cries tears of regret for every butt she pressed against her perfect cupid's bow lips.

I hold her in my arms while she showers me with tears and asks me how she's going to fight without me by her side when I fly back to take care of a quilt shop that-because of the circumstances and not lack of passion- at this very moment in time I could care less about. I tell her, I'm always with you, no matter how far away I may seem.

I know Grandma Pam and my Quilt Mom are going to be mad, so I apologize in advance.

I'm sorry that I don't give a shit about my dusty cement floors in my shop, or the fact that my banner is ripping and I still haven't bought a sign in the past six months that Remnants has been open. I'm sorry that every single time a cranky lady comes in my store and complains I want to slap her. I'm sorry that my priorities aren't straight and I'm not completely paying attention to the story about the quilt that you're piecing for your nephew for Christmas and he's a plaid flannel kind of guy and you're more of a solids kinda gal.

All I really care about right now is the fact that my mother has lived to see another sunrise.

Please stop complaining and saying negative things to me, period. Because I just don't care to be polite and listen, I don't care to be defensive even. I just don't care.

"It's like a whirlwind of emotions that occurs when moms and dads fight
It's like when a girl grins, an emotion of hers
That holds your arm, and grabs tight
Hurl him into the ocean, one of them cold sweat heat flash types
But extreme fluctuations and temperature changes
Have been known to crack pipes...
...crack pipes...crack pipes...

Meet me-- half way and I'll go that extra length just to help your strength
Meet me-- at the AA meeting, needing to take more than 12 steps
Bring me to your hiding place, so I can face your vice grip
I'll chisel every single monkey off your back with this ice pick
Come meet up with me on the sidelines when the game is over just to say hello
Then afterwards, backstage to let me know that you enjoyed the show
And go to grandma's house for Sunday dinner
Sit at the head of the table, take away the fatal flaw
you made the day before, I seen you bleed
Meet me-- on Christmas Eve, we can fight but make up before you leave
Make visits with the rest of those who rest in pieces of my dreams
Meet me at the fork in the road where lost souls get indecisive
Meet me at the crossroads so I can have someone to walk into the light with."

 

 

A breath, a voice, a scar and a bandaid.

I've read and watched many stories about people in the middle of a crisis feeling an overwhelming sense of calm. I can honestly say that I know now what that feeling is.

I have always been an emotionally outside person. You know, the kind that wears there heart on their sleeve. There's no sense in keeping things inside. As years have progressed I've had to learn painful lessons because of that process. While I still leave my heart open and exposed, I know now how to deal with the consequences. I still believe it's the best policy.

That being said, while I love talking about the latest fabric lines and tutorials and Amy Butler and QuiltCon and yadda yadda, I've been very distracted lately from my work. At first I was ashamed to say that I was being pulled away from my focus. Now, I feel it is essential for you to know the why behind the how.

My family has been fragmented my entire adult life. There was a falling out at my oldest sister's wedding in 2005. Things were said, choices were made, and the end result of that falling out was estrangement from my two sisters. I've felt for a very long time that my family was split into two teams- my two sisters versus myself and my parents.

To say that this falling out "tore my family apart" would be a gross understatement. To avoid this pain and resentment, I threw myself into my work, whatever it was at the time- jewelry sales, quilting, retail, etc. I spent more and more time at my Bonus Mom's quilt shop, quilting away.

Quilting was my therapy. Not only did it propel my focus towards color, print, contrast, and coordinates, but it pulled me closer and closer to my Bonus Mom. I believe everything in life happens for a reason. There were things that my parents couldn't give me that she could- structure, discipline, theory. She is my head; my logic comes completely from the Fryers.

But my heart comes from my birth family, the Hortons. I have faithfully called my birth mom (we'll refer to her by her first name, Barbara, and my Bonus Mom by her first name, Pat) almost every single day for the past seven years.

Barbara had been very ill in the beginning of 2012- a persistent cough that wouldn't go away, that later turned into pneumonia. She was losing weight rapidly. I was worried about her, but with the startup of remnants, I was so distracted by my work. And resentful of my parents for not coming out to see the shop. Here I finally have made a "real" career out of quilting, and they're not here to share it. I was selfish and angry with them.

Two weeks ago, I received a phone call from my father. Barbara....Mom...

...as I write the words, tears just fall down my face.

My mom has stage four lung cancer.

I do not wish this type of pain, panic, anxiety and angst to any person on this earth.

I am sharing this very privileged information with you, and my in-store guests, because I may not always be at my best depending on the results of her treatment.

Although stage four has a very foreboding connotation, my parents are relatively optimistic and Barbara has chosen to participate in chemotherapy. My parents believe with strength that she will be able to be in remission and live a longer, more prosperous life.

I have my good days and my bad days. I have thrown myself head-first into my work. Quilting again is just as therapeutic as it is my livelihood, and I am so grateful for the distraction.

The big c-word, cancer. That word seemed to flip a switch in my head. In two weeks I have felt myself grow a different person. Things that used to matter, just don't anymore. What matters the most to me at this point is to honor my family, blood-related or not, and to expose more and more people to what I love the most- beautiful patchwork and colorful quilts.

It's crazy how cancer can change you. My heart has softened towards my sisters. One has picked things up right where they left off. The other...well, it's a process, right?

A thought keeps popping into my head every morning.

What will my epitaph read?

Barbara's fight for life has re-established my own mortality. I have always felt purposeful and driven; but this is now overdrive.

We have a saying, the Hortons. "Give to the world the best you can, and the best will come back to you." It started when my sister Samantha was born. My goal in this lifetime is to welcome others into my quilting studio, let them browse my giant stash (all 1000+ bolts of it), help them to make beautiful things, and help them to help others.

I've started a little charitable club called Friends of Annie. It's in honor of my good friend Linda Thune, whose daughter Annie tragically took her life in 2010. Linda also uses quilting as her therapy to help her thru her healing process.

Friends of Annie started as a closet in my shop that I encouraged others to fill with unwanted fabric. Now the closet is almost bulging at the seams when we close the doors. So far since I have started collecting fabric in April, Friends of Annie has made four quilts and has six more quilt tops ready to quilt. My goal by end of 2013 is to have 400 quilts made and donated. FOA plans to donate quilts to various charitable organizations, including CASA, Dell Children's Hospital in Austin, Faith Home Teen Ranch in California and Austin Children's Shelter.

If you would like to participate in Friends of Annie in-store, Wednesdays from 2-6 we dedicate our day to charity and goodwill. Come by, bring your machine, come with a sharp rotary cutter and be ready to party with some good ol' early 90s sunflower fabric. And some Kaffe Fassett. Not kidding on either one of those- it's crazy what people give away (the good, the bad, the ugly!).

If you would like to send my mom a cheerful note or a supportive statement, our store address is 10435 Burnet Road, Suite 106, Austin, Texas 78758. I will forward her anything that is sent my way.

Thanks for listening, and being a shoulder to cry on. It's times like these we need to stick together.

Standing strong, and stitching on.
XOXO
Jessica