To understand the doily, you must make the doily. I really get this now. As a kid and even into adulthood, my brother and I would use ‘doily’ as a way to denote that something was old fashioned or fuddy-duddy. (e.g: “geez, dad, why don’t you put those vinyl records with your doilies?”)

But then along came Curio, and everything changed.

Since beginning my crochet quest earlier this year, I’ve really come to love the intricate patterns in fine gauge crochet items like doilies and trims. Not that I didn’t find them beautiful before, but being able to really see the work in them was a new experience. With Curio gleaming like a new day on my desk, I couldn’t help it. I looked for some free vintage doily patterns, and started wading through my first attempt.

I have to say I’m quite pleased! Enough so that immediately after finishing that one, I made another. The second took considerably less time, and is a little more interesting!

Another thing that had been lost on me was why people used doilies and such things. I usually saw them used as decoration, with little more use than looking pretty or complementing a candy dish. But now that I have a house with nice furniture and a hutch with glass shelves, I get it. I want to put my candles and my goofy trinket collection on display, but not at the expense of my furniture. Doilies to the rescue!

No Octoglobe is going to scratch my table!

Not only are these extremely satisfying to crochet, but they look really lovely too. I’m so impressed with how well Curio shows stitch definition and retains its shape. Nothing more than a little soak and some pins had both doilies looking starched and perfect, while retaining the beautiful luster of the mercerized cotton.

Doilyhenge!

Needless to say, I’m smitten. I’m now on a quest to put a doily under just about everything that can be lifted in my house.

Except maybe him. I’ll just have to put my next crochet project over him instead!