Raggedy Magic

In 2009, I attempted to make my very first rag doll. Unbeknown to me at the time, the pattern I used had been inspired by a very special doll named 'Raggedy Ann', created by US author and illustrator Johnny Gruelle, over a hundred years ago.

I have always loved dolls and at the time I made my first rag doll, was particularly fascinated by 'homespun' dolls created from scraps of fabric in the home, stitched together by mothers and grandmothers, with love. These dolls, now known as 'prim' dolls, are an art form in their own right... but once they were just simple cloth dolls, cheaply made from old clothing and bed sheets, some with embroidered faces, others with no facial features at all... and given to young children to play with and learn from.

Raggedy Ann, a cloth doll with shoebutton eyes, was born from the sadness of daughter lost and inspired by one such early cloth doll, long forgotten in an attic, then rediscovered. She became the inspiration behind a delightful, happy-faced character doll, who featured in a series of stories written and illustrated by political cartoonist, illustrator and businessman of the era, Mr. Johnny Gruelle.

'Raggedy Ann' was patented On June 17th in 1915, when Gruelle applied for a trademark logo for the 'Raggedy Ann' name. The PF Volland Company then published Gruelle's Raggedy Ann Stories in 1918, the first in a series of books about Gruelle's Raggedy Ann rag doll character and her friends. Gruelle established a merchandising agreement with PF Volland Company, to begin manufacturing, selling and promoting a mass-produced version of his doll and the Raggedy Ann books and dolls became a huge success. At the time of Johnny Gruelle's death in 1938, his first Raggedy Ann book had sold more than three million copies. Subsequently, his iconic Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy dolls and related memorabilia, have become sought after collectors' items... not to mention the inspiration behind many thousands of handmade, smiling red-haired, primitive style, cloth dolls!

I stumbled across a wonderful pattern for a knitted doll named 'Merrily Ann' whilst scrolling online recently. It is the the first knitting pattern I have seen that is designed in true tribute to the original Raggedy Ann doll. Naturally, I couldn't resist ordering a copy! I have spent several weeks knitting and sewing and enjoying the process of making this special doll. The pattern captures the essence of the Raggedy Ann character perfectly and I think knitting her adds a lovely fresh dimension to Johnny Gruelle's original cloth doll.

My Raggedy Ann style dolly, complete with antique shoebutton eyes, is to be a special birthday gift for my Granddaughter's sixth birthday in May. I will gift a copy of Johnny Gruelle's original stories to her too, as I love the notion of passing childhood magic from one generation to another!

If you would like to knit your own 'Merrily Ann' tribute doll, you can find Wendy's lovely pattern on the link below:

https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/80001832/merrily-ann-raggedy-ann-18-45cm-doll?ga_order=most_relevant... 

© 2011 Wendy Phillips copyrighted design.

Do not reproduce or distribute this pattern. 

Peggy's progress

PEGGY

Earlier this year, I told you about my Grandmother's childhood doll Peggy, a 1920's Armand Marseille doll, manufactured in Germany. Peggy was presented to me in a box, as naked as the day she was born, so I decided to research turn of the century knitting patterns and knit Peggy suitable clothes that my Gran might have approved of. So far I have made her a pair of pants, a dress and a bonnet to protect her real hair wig. I have also knitted one teeny tiny sock in crochet cotton on very skinny needs, which sent me boggle eyed! I will finish the other sock and knit a pair shoes and coat in the coming weeks... but in the meantime, here is Peggy wearing her new knits and looking much more like a well-loved dolly, a hundred years after she was first created.

Peggy

 

PEGGY

I first met my Grandmother's childhood doll Peggy many years ago. She was carefully wrapped in a soft white cloth and lived in a stout cardboard box, which for many years was tucked away in the depths of one of my mum's cupboards, safely out of reach of my sisters and I. Peggy, an Armand Marseille bisque doll, was one of a few cherished belongings which passed to Mum when her own mother, my lovely Gran, sadly passed away in Autumn 1975, at the age of just 54 years.

Gran was born in 1921, so my guess is that Peggy must now be fast heading towards a hundred years old. Imagine that! Armand Marseille dolls were produced from 1885 until about 1930 and their bisque heads were created from unglazed porcelain with a matte finish, which gave a realistic, skin-like, texture. The thing that immediately resonated with me is how loved Gran's doll must have been to have survived for almost a century! In the 1920's and 1930's, these china dolls were very fragile so must have been dressed and carried with immense care ... it is a complete wonder, not to mention tribute to their careful young owners, that any survive intact today!

I have loved dolls and bears from childhood, through adulthood and don't mind admitting to adopting an occasional elderly dolly to share with my own Granddaughter ... in fact we seem to have gathered a lovely little collection of 1960's dollies over the past couple of years and they are regularly 'fed', dressed and taken for walks by their dedicated, almost-but-not-quite-four year old, custodian.

When Mum arrived at my house for a cuppa recently, I didn't notice a cardboard box tucked in her bag. We sat on the sofa, chatting about everything under the sun as usual, while we sipped mugs of hot tea (Mum) and coffee (me) ... then Mum handed me the box. At first it confused me as I instantly knew what was in the box, but wasn't sure why Mum was handing her doll to me. I carefully slipped the lid from the box and gently unwrapped Peggy from her blanket, taking care to support her china head as if she were a precious newborn baby.

I asked Mum if she would like me to dress her doll as poor Peggy was as naked as the day she had first been created by Armand Marseille (a popular doll manufacturer situated in Koppelsdorf, Germany). Somehow Peggy's original clothes had been lost through the passage of time. Mum smiled knowingly and that was when a strange thing happened, or maybe not so strange after all...

So, Peggy now lives with me and while she waits for me to finish knitting her an age appropriate dress and undies, she has borrowed a pretty cotton dress and knickers from my Tiny Tears doll, to cover her modesty. I have had a fascinating time researching vintage knitting patterns from the 1920's and 30's, so that I can knit something akin to what Gran and girls of her era may have dressed their dolls in. It has been an interesting dip into the social history of my Grandmother's day but more importantly, Peggy has given me a wonderful means of reconnecting with my Gran. Taking care of the dolly Gran cherished as a very young girl, has bridged the decades since her loss when I was only twelve years old and offered me a fresh view into my Gran's life as a young girl ... an elderly dolly always comes with a window into history, you just have to take the time to peek through the layers of dust and try to piece together the past.

I am so grateful to my Mum for passing Peggy into my care for the future and absolutely thrilled to be able to show her to my Granddaughter and tell her about how my Gran, her Great-Great-Grandmother, loved her dollies too.



Incidentally, for those of you wondering who Peggy's little teddy bear friend is ... he was made by the wonderful Pamela Ann Howells of 'Bears that are special'. Pam, a doyenne of the UK teddy bear world and on a personal note, a very lovely lady and old friend from my show days, was previously assistant designer to the famous Chiltern Hygenic Toy Company, in the 1950's.

Dolly Days

 

DOLLY DAYS

I wonder if you recognise this dolly? If you do, I am guessing you were probably a child of the fifties or sixties, like myself. I stumbled across dolly by chance on Ebay recently and before I could talk myself out of it, had contacted the owner to see if I could buy her...

She reminded me very much of a slightly larger version I owned as a little girl. I think my dolly was around 19" tall, and a more substantial doll. This smaller, more manageable version, is just 15" and fits comfortably into my granddaughter's dolly pram. Izzy promptly named her 'Grumpy Dolly' and took her to the local playground for some fresh air. Grumpy Dolly (also named 'Rosemary') arrived at my house tightly sealed in a plastic bag with two other 1960's dolly friends, a little Rosebud doll and a larger Palitoy baby doll. I like to think she appreciated her new dress, hairbrush and a caring young owner to take her out in the pram for walk and a play on the swings after being stored for over half a century.

Tucked away in my knitting pattern stash, was a vintage knitting pattern featuring the 'Chiltern Babykins', so I knitted her a pink dress and matching knickers to cover her modesty. I think I will make the socks this weekend. After so many years, she was due a new outfit!

For anyone still wondering, my sweet dolly was designed by the Chiltern Hygenic Toy Company, the same UK company responsible for creating our wonderful Chiltern Hugmee teddy bears. She was modelled to suck her thumb, with knees bent, just like a real baby. All Chiltern Babykins dolls had hair that looked as though a child had been left alone to hack it with a pair of scissors!

In the days of glamorous dollies, these dolls were sturdy, a more unusual style with their 'grumpy' faces but nonetheless, very endearing. In fact, I have rather a soft spot for them!

Sadly, my original Babykins doll 'disappeared' in my teens, most likely in a garage sale. As you can imagine, as one of five daughters, it wasn't always possible to keep childhood toys, so I have loved this trip down Memory Lane with my little Granddaughter, sharing dollies and making new memories together.

Dolly Days

 

DOLLY DAYS

I wonder if you recognise this dolly? If you do, I am guessing you were probably a child of the fifties or sixties, like myself. I stumbled across dolly by chance on Ebay recently and before I could talk myself out of it, had contacted the owner to see if I could buy her...

She reminded me very much of a slightly larger version I owned as a little girl. I think my dolly was around 19" tall, and a more substantial doll. This smaller, more manageable version, is just 15" and fits comfortably into my granddaughter's dolly pram. Izzy promptly named her 'Grumpy Dolly' and took her to the local playground for some fresh air. Grumpy Dolly (also named 'Rosemary') arrived at my house tightly sealed in a plastic bag with two other 1960's dolly friends, a little Rosebud doll and a larger Palitoy baby doll. I like to think she appreciated her new dress, hairbrush and a caring young owner to take her out in the pram for walk and a play on the swings after being stored for over half a century.

Tucked away in my knitting pattern stash, was a vintage knitting pattern featuring the 'Chiltern Babykins', so I knitted her a pink dress and matching knickers to cover her modesty. I think I will make the socks this weekend. After so many years, she was due a new outfit!

For anyone still wondering, my sweet dolly was designed by the Chiltern Hygenic Toy Company, the same UK company responsible for creating our wonderful Chiltern Hugmee teddy bears. She was modelled to suck her thumb, with knees bent, just like a real baby. All Chiltern Babykins dolls had hair that looked as though a child had been left alone to hack it with a pair of scissors!

In the days of glamorous dollies, these dolls were sturdy, a more unusual style with their 'grumpy' faces but nonetheless, very endearing. In fact, I have rather a soft spot for them!

Sadly, my original Babykins doll 'disappeared' in my teens, most likely in a garage sale. As you can imagine, as one of five daughters, it wasn't always possible to keep childhood toys, so I have loved this trip down Memory Lane with my little Granddaughter, sharing dollies and making new dolly memories together.

A child of the sixties

PATTI PITTA PAT AND CHATTY CATHY

It was my birthday a few days ago, a strange one under the current restrictions, but quite fun nevertheless. It is only a couple of years until I turn sixty (my goodness, seeing that in print is odd!) so I thought this could be the perfect year to indulge my inner six year old girl by purchasing a doll from my childhood in the sixties to share with my little granddaughter, who also loves her dolls. My childhood was very traditionally filled with dollies, several precious soft toys and a big Chiltern Hugmee teddy bear, who sat on the end of my bed for many years (I also recall a box of toy cars including a Batmobile... my Dad's nod to the son he always wanted but never had I think!) I still have the softees, now rather floppity and threadbare and my Big Ted bear of course, but sadly my collection of dollies disappeared over time.

One of the dolls I particularly remember was Chatty Cathy, by Mattel. She was a rather glamorous blonde doll who wore a pink candy striped dress and smart black shoes. She spoke in short sentences when I pulled a cord on her back - that is until the day her words became more and more garbled, then completely indiscernible! Chatty Cathy was a precious Christmas gift from my Gran, sadly no longer with us... oh how I wish I had kept that special dolly to share with my own granddaughter!

The other doll I never forgot, was a large walking talking doll with short hair and a more robust, no nonsense appeal but after so many years apart, I couldn't remember her name. After a spot of frantic 'Googling' and more than fifty years later, I finally located her, or to be more accurate, her exact lookilikey. My Patti Pitta Pat 'The Electric Walking Doll', was waiting for me to claim her on Ebay! Such moments should always be born of impulse, so I threw adult caution and middle aged commonsense to the four winds and snapped her up before some other nostalgic child of the sixties did. By some miracle of sound, simple engineering, a couple of hefty D batteries and the good care of her previous owners, my Patti was soon toddling dutifully across the workroom carpet, arms outstretched, while I grinned broadly, brimful of nostalgia, much to the confusion of my husband. I can't wait to introduce Patti to my granddaughter on our next 'childcare bubble' day!

Lockdown birthday was an odd experience. Instead of the usual lounge full of family eating cake, I had time to take a private trip down Memory Lane, walk my dogs in the deep dark woods where the bauble tree grows and eat a cosy steak dinner with my husband and daughter. I met my mother in the pouring rain for a birthday walk a day earlier and received lovely messages, either in person or virtually, from my family throughout the day, so all in all, it turned out to be a not bad birthday, just a different one.

I very much hope that by next year, birthdays will be legally shared with loved ones once more but as a one-off, I don't mind telling you, this year's birthday turned out to be pretty good after all!