Captain's Log #62 - the Quilt and the Dress

Here's a story, I don't even know how to tell it to myself but here goes... Aagot Tonseth Raudstein Nelson made a single-bed-size crazy quilt probably in the 1940s, she would have been about 58. It's probably composed of scraps from garments she made. Knut H. Raudstein brought it to our family's house in 1958, Aagot would have been 76 years old and probably going into assisted living. It was in mint condition and stunning. My mother had it on her bed/s for probably 35 years and when the silks shredded, rather than put it away, she cut them out. This summer over 2 months I restored the fabrics by dyeing silks to match the originals and carefully stitching them in place. While the quilt is not museum quality it certainly is important to me. I always knew I wanted to store it archivally and planned to go to my favorite dry cleaners and buy a box used to store wedding dresses.

 

I went to the cleaners; he didn't have a box in the shop and it would take him several weeks to get one. I pressed him; how could I get one sooner? He said he had a box with a dress in it that hadn't been paid for, come back tomorrow. I did. He brought out the box with a stunning turquoise satin and tulle dress with gold crystals and metallic lace draped across the bodice. He told me a sad story: that he did all this work ($350 worth) and the owner refused to pick it up - for three years! He genuinely sounded financially strapped. In a moment of inexplicable generosity, I paid the whole bill and got the box and dress. Of course I had to examine the dress, and put it on my dressmaker's form. It was not going to fit me, and besides where would I wear it? I could sell it, but thinking through all the trouble that would be... who would be that particular size? All the time and effort involved. I could give it away; well then, why not give it back to the owner? Certainly that dress would live in the heart of the original wearer. (It was for a Quinceañera.)

 

The name of the dress's owner was on the box and the dry cleaner said she ran a childcare business out of her home. I called the local childcare social services to try to get in touch, they gave me a message number. I called and left messages, twice. No response. Finally, I called the social services and told them to call her other phone number and leave a message. By golly, the dress owner called me back and left a message - in Spanish. Now what was I going to do? Go to the garden nursery and ask an employee to translate?  I finally remembered a local Hispanic social service organization, went down, got a translation. The office woman graciously called the owner's number and left a message. And within minutes got a call back. They spoke at some length. At the end, she hung up and told me I should sell the dress or collect the money I had spent, that the dress owner was extremely rude, but she did get the owner's phone number and address - and the owner speaks fluent English, having been born here. Go figure.

 

I just wanted to get rid of this bulky dress and box. I was going to give it to her for nothing, I don't want this thing. The arrangement was I was to drop off the dress at 5:15pm. I went home, took a nap, my phone rang, it was the dry cleaner who was ebullient, thank you for stirring this up! The dress owner had called him, chewed him out for selling the dress, etc. Meanwhile, her daughter had posted a nasty review on Yelp that he insisted be taken down before he would release the second dress (for the $50 bill.) He was so grateful to me, what can he do for me? (I didn't say, clean my cashmere sweaters for free, usually a $90 bill, which he probably would.) He offered to share with me some Indian food that he makes. Ok.

 

At 5:15 I went to deliver the dress and met with the owner. She allowed me to tell my whole story about Aagot's quilt. Then she said something that surprised me, she said, "This is my fault." Boy, that's something you don't hear very often. She took the dress & box and handed me $250, a hundred-dollar bill and three fifty's. (I don't carry that kind of money around.) So a little bit of cosmic constipation has been pushed through, and a little good will sprinkled around like golden, sparkly fairy dust.

 

A less charitable person would point out that I'm out of pocket $100, but I think of it as $250 richer and people think well of me. I've heard the phrase "no good deed goes unpunished" so this may not be the end of the story.