Antique Fibre Tools Connect People and History

When I joined last month’s Digits & Threads Studio Hours for Caitlin ffrench’s talk on rug tufting, I didn’t expect to solve a mystery. As Caitlin demonstrated the tufting gun that she uses to create her naturally dyed colour wheel rugs, I instantly recognized the gun’s components, despite only having heard of rug tufting in passing.

You see, I have a habit of collecting random, fibre-related tools. It started small: knitting needles from a local Value Village, worn-out hand carders from a yard sale in rural New Brunswick, knitting and spinning letterpress blocks from an antique market near the yarn shop Loop in London, England.

So, when, last August, I wandered into an antiques store beside the Annapolis Royal Farmer’s and Traders Market, I was instantly drawn to the fibre tools. I picked up an elegantly shaped niddy noddy, its smooth wood the colour of deep caramel from years of use. The owner noticed me cradling it and started to point out other fibre tools. He handed me the most wonderful sock darning form, its dark blonde wood the shape of a small foot, with a short handle and knob that fit comfortably in my palm.

The most intriguing find was a metal instrument with a sharp point that was directly attached to a bent wooden handle. A second piece slid back and forth, extending a metal shaft in a frame: a set-up that resembled the curly-q thread guard on my Singer sewing machine. The owner thought it was a rug hooking tool from Cape Breton. Whatever it was, I knew it needed to come home with me—along with the niddy noddy and sock darning form. And until that Digits & Threads Studio Hours in October, that mystery tool sat on the desk in my studio.

As Caitlin turned on her modern, fast-moving rug tufting gun, the connection was made. I rummaged around my desk for the tool. I held it up to the screen to compare, and, sure enough, it had all the same components in a compact, manual, and patinaed form. I showed the group my find, and Caitlin confirmed that it was a rug tufting tool. Now that I knew what I was looking at, an internet search revealed similar examples and many videos demonstrating how to use this much slower version.

Mystery solved! A manual rug tufting tool.

I knit from an early age, but my serious forays into textiles came in my early 20s in Saint John, New Brunswick, where I was neighbours with Barb McKelvey of the now-disbanded Heritage Weavers group. Barb’s home was filled with looms, wheels, swifts, and tools from across the centuries. This started me down the path to becoming a weaver, spinner, dyer, and collector. She introduced me to Liz Miller of Good Fibrations who has taken me along on many a fibre tool procurement adventure over the years, involving too many wheels and looms to count at this point.

By the time I got to Wolfville, Nova Scotia, in 1999, I was ready to start my collection of fibre tools, and this community, in the land of Mary E. Black, was happy to oblige.

Gwen Hewey-Parsons introduced me to Nelda Davis, her fellow master spinner who was teaching at the annual Fibre Camp outside Yarmouth, N.S., that summer. I invited Nelda to stay at my home in the Gaspereau Valley and got her advice on a walking wheel at a local antique shop. She immediately said that if I could afford the wheel, I should buy it. She estimated that it was from the late 1700s and said it was the most complete wheel she’d seen. With Nelda’s help, I brought it home, cleaned it up, and she spun a cotton three-ply drive band that is still on the wheel. The wheel has travelled to many hands-on days and fall fairs over the years and now has a place of honour on the desk in my studio. The wheel is in semi-retirement now—I don’t spin on it much anymore—but it reminds me of the time I had with Nelda, and I’m glad to have this bit of spinning history.

An 18th century walking wheel has pride of place on Julie’s desk.

That first acquisition began my collection of fibre tools. It was later joined by an early-1900s Singer sewing machine found at Value Village, followed by hand carders, toy looms, knitting needles by the pound at garage sales and flea markets… I came upon a 1950s General Electric Rotary Ironer on the side of the road during spring cleanup in 2016, and it works like a charm (although I wouldn’t leave it plugged in unattended).

If perhaps slightly unsafe.

Many of my fibre tools were gifts from family, friends, mentors, and strangers. The horizontal warping mill from a new friend who was moving to the U.K. was a particularly great addition to my studio. I smile every time I use the wool winder my husband found at a local antique store and hid in the trunk of the car for days before Christmas. And the most precious gift was given to me by the family of master weaver Jackie Mackay. I was trading gallery sitting for future mentorship with Jackie before she became ill. After she passed away, her family gave me her Ashford Traditional wheel, and it has been my primary spinning wheel ever since.

I feel a connection with the people who used these tools before me, and that motivates me to use them rather than make them museum pieces.

My space is filled to the brim, but I still find treasures to bring home, and I get great joy from helping my fellow knitters, spinners, and dyers find that perfect fibre tool and helping them celebrate these finds. If you ever need a hand moving a loom, transporting a wheel, or just need someone to find you a dress form at the local thrift shop, I’m at the ready.

Click through this gallery to enjoy some of Julie’s finds. Every image can be enlarged.

All images by Julie Rosvall.