Every quilter has made a table runner. I admit it. I have too. In fact, I’ll even admit I have no less than six that are done and just need binding.
It is the ubiquitous quilting gift –
But what is it? Have you ever heard somebody say, “All my table runners are worn
Have you ever even seen
I’ve never used one, other than to decorate at Christmas because I made myself one when I made a batch of them for Christmas gifts, but that’s not really using it. Is it?
I started thinking about this because the last quilt I made came from a pattern book that actually had table runner patterns in it for leftover blocks which I found curious on a number of levels.
If you’re writing a quilt book and offering instruction on how to make a quilt, why would your patterns require so much extra fabric that you can make extra blocks? Or require cutting so much extra fabric that you ended up with enough random strips and triangles to make some ever useful table runners?
Out of curiosity, I looked up the history of the table runner.
Apparently, back in medieval times, people would wipe their faces on the table cloth. Eventually, thank God, this became unacceptable and somebody invented napkins, but people still ate like pigs and spilled their food and drinks all over the tablecloths which then had to be laundered, so some wise woman invented the table runner to protect the table cloth.
As I can imagine, doing laundry in the 15th century would be pure hell, especially a giant greasy, wine-stained piece of table linen. I’m not sure who invented the first table runner, but my guess is that it was the poor peasant woman who had to do the castle’s laundry.
I struggle to get the clothes out of the dryer and folded. Usually by the time a load has been folded, I’ve “reheated” it in the dryer 4-5 times to get out all the wrinkles because God forbid I might have to iron something.
I can only imagine the hell of having to go the river to drag buckets of water back to the fire to heat in order to wash the table cloth and then burning your hands in some sort of soap that you had to make by hand the day before. And you still had to rinse the damn thing. The table runner was clearly invented out of necessity.
But I digress.
In order to avoid having to repeatedly wash the entire table cloth, the table runner was invented. Apparently, they were easier to clean than an entire table cloth which actually makes sense. For some reason, they stuck around, and now we quilters can make them when we want an easy fast project.
Thankfully, we don’t require the use of them anymore. Quilted table runners are somewhat useless when it comes to protecting anything precious.
If you’ve ever set a glass of wine on top of a quilted table runner, you know what I’m talking about. The sometimes poofy quilting can make the glasses a little bit tipsy (doesn’t have anything to do with drinking any of the wine) and causes them to tip right over, staining the table cloth and the table runner.
My table runner conclusion? In a functional sense, table runners are . . . completely dysfunctional. But when it comes to quilting, who really needs function?