Geoffrey and Grace featured our Mess Hall Knife Rack on their blog! Check out the full post here.

...In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth…
   —T.S. Eliot from the Four Quartets, East Coker
  
We’ve done it! We’ve completely cleared out of our olde building, The Atlas Casket Factory, our home for the last 5 years and into our new space – The Foundlings Building! We’ve hauled every last tool, big and small, and every last maker into our new space – our open, air flowing, beautifully bright new home with parking and sunshine and in Port Richmond, Philadelphia. And it has all happened in less than a year!

Walter, Joe, Chris and Josh, as well as a handful of others, have been transforming the space over the last 9 months and still, we’ve all managed to make and design and send most* orders out without delay. We are incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderfully talented, efficient and productive team as well as our supportive following – you! Our new space will no doubt be an inspiring place to create more treasures, photographs, jobs, and joyful days. And in time – a garden!

In addition to the building and the land, there is an elevated train track that borders one side of the property and the wall has already become the most fantastic backdrop for our new photographs.

We named the building Foundlings, as it is my hope to discover much about this tiny piece of land, both through the locals’ stories, and hopefully (look for me with a metal detector or a privy stick!) underground. Our acre was carved out in the early 1800s, as evidenced by some old maps (PhilaGeoHistories). There were homes built upon it and torn down, and sometime between 1934 and 1942, our building was erected as the new home of The Phoenix Dye Works. In the 1980s it was closed up (maybe even before), and in it grew a darkness, loaded with stuff and years of stories. When Walter tore through the ceiling to put in skylights, the dirt and dust came alive, dancing in a beam of sunlight eager to discover new territories.

It is 2017, and at Peg and Awl, we are ready to begin building our new stories...

At Peg and Awl we love the stories that surround so many everyday objects. We especially enjoy when our others share the stories of their possessions with us. Upon launching our Instagram account for the darker and shinier side of Peg and Awl, @pegandawljewelry, we wanted to celebrate our All the Names Jewelry Collection. It is a visual and wearable memorial to the mosaic of characters who make up who we are. In time for Mother’s Day, we made a call for inspiring stories of maternal figures, as they are most often some of the most powerful sculptors of our spirit and personalities. We particularly appreciated Katie Bowman’s story, which follows the life of a dresser that her grandmother had admired, worked hard for, and one day given to Katie as a gift. We hope you enjoy her story as well.

I saw a magnolia tree yesterday and I was struck by how much it reminded me of my grandmother. She had one in her front yard when I was growing up, but it was more than that. It looked strong, but also welcoming. It was almost stoic in the right light, but also soft—especially because it was in bloom. These are all true of her, too. She recently gave me a dresser that she bought in 1957. It’s beautiful, dark, and a little scratched—but in a good way. In a way that makes it look like it has a story to tell. I asked her about when she bought it, and she looked off into the distance like she was looking back in time as she told me about it. She had just gotten a job as a receptionist in Washington, D.C. She saw it in a store window as she was walking home to her one-bedroom apartment. Her eyes lit up as she told me how she fell in love with it through the window. She told me how determined she was to make it her own and how she saved up for it for months. The determination in her voice as she talked about it was familiar, I’d heard it many times as she talked about anything from keeping the deer out of her garden to making sure I went to college. She’d finally saved enough money, so she went out and bought it and brought it home to her apartment. It moved with her, house after house, and it held everything from her silk scarves, to my father's clothes, to old wash rags, to family photos in different stages of its life. As she is preparing to move into a nursing home, I am honored to take this piece of her history home with me. I to give it another new life in another new home, and I want to honor her with its continued story.

—Katie Bowman 

Share your story with Peg and Awl on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter using #pegandawl . We may feature you and your story!

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