As camp sadly draws to a close for another year, our heroines form an orderly queue to fetch water…
…trudge across country in primitive wet-weather gear (thank God for Goretex!)…
…and fetch final supplies.
It’s tedious but I’m having persistent problems posting here on my blog (some kind of terminal disagreement between WordPress, Flickr and Safari which makes the latter crash when I try to load more than one Flickr picture onto my blog – if have you experienced this and figured a fix do let me know). Hope to repair it soon. Meanwhile, please bear with me.
If you are preparing young people to go back to school this week, I’m there too: sewing in name tapes, booking hair cuts, buying new shoes (but didn’t we just buy a pair last term?) and generally sprucing up slightly tired uniform. See you on the other side of the beginning of term!
Apologies for the hiatus between postings. Summer camp 1912 continues with some al fresco dining…
A certain amount of over-clad PE…
And some postprandial embroidery…
A final thrilling instalment tomorrow, campers!
More from that century-old volume featuring a girls’ summer camp.
I wish we could see what they were sketching.
Tune in tomorrow for another exciting slice of life under antique canvas!
This fascinating photographic glimpse of a girls’ summer camp comes from a century-old British volume (dated 1912) which I snapped up in a Bath charity shop.
I’m wondering who woke the reveille-player?
I’d have been fine with the long walks but am not so sure about the open-air sleeping arrangements. And how often, do you think, did those beds collapse?
Another glimpse tomorrow…
|‘The Strawberry Emery is nothing new, but it is so very useful and easy of construction, there is no reason why every needleworker should not possess one. Woolen goods represent the fuzzy nature of the strawberry better than silk or …’
- Home Needlework Magazine, Volume 4, 1902.
Tantalizingly, that’s all I can make out of it on Google books, though I’m grateful for that glimpse (who knew that ‘fuzzy’ was such an old word?). As proof of the relatively long history of strawberry emeries, even from the Edwardian vantage point, here’s an earlier reference from 1852 when they were already well established (pick it up from near the bottom of the first column, at ‘Knitted Berries and Fruit’):
From Godey’s Magazine & Lady’s Book, Volume 45, 1852.
And in the same volume was this which I felt compelled to share.
Still my beating heart! How lingerie has changed, even if the content of crafting magazines doesn’t appear to have altered as much as one might have thought! I don’t expect to be seeing sheet music (a staple in Victorian women’s magazines) in Mollie Makes any time soon though. I love that the strawberry emery has such a long history and is now (I hope) enjoying a well-deserved resurgence in popularity. Do you think we can do the same for the saucy little sick-room cap?