My Tibetan Tiger Bag

And How It Came To Be

This is one of my early needlepoint projects, done back in the 1980s, when I was still almost young (gulp, how hard it is to remember that far back!): a two-sided shoulder bag based on Tibetan Tiger Rugs.

I’d been a needle pointer for a while, mostly working up kits bought from museum shops – everything in one sack, the printed canvas, a needle or two, pre-selected wool yarns in appropriate colors. I did this mostly when I went to visit my elderly mother, who was housebound, and had taken to telling the same delightful stories time after time. I was desperate for something to do as I sat and listened – again and again.

The kits were OK; they worked up into colorful sofa cushions. But I’d begun to get a bit bored with them (and also Mother’s stories, though I didn’t let on). Then one day, on a trip to San Francisco, my husband, Rick, and I went into Gump’s, and a new world opened up for me.

Just furnishing our new house in Houston (actually, an old house, but new to us), we needed rugs – so we went to the rug department. Of the many offerings, we fell in love with one that sported a big, stylized tiger motif. The sales person told us it was Tibetan (though actually woven in India due to geo-political issues in the region), and was a new version of an ancient tradition of Tibetan Tiger Rugs.

I’d never heard about these wonders, but I was instantly hooked. We bought the rug, which is still on the floor of our bath room.

I wanted to know more. I found that there was a book on the topic, and I got it. As I turned page after page, I fell more and more in love. I WANTED the antique treasures in the pictures!

I couldn’t have them, of course, but it didn’t take long for me to click that maybe there was a way I could almost have them: I could make my own.

I couldn’t see myself actually making rugs. But at the time I carried a book bag with me everywhere, and I could see myself making one of those. I didn’t know how, but I dug in and figured it out.

I selected the rugs I liked best from the book. I blew the pictures up to the size I wanted using an enlarging photocopy machine (I’ve since devised other methods in this higher-tech age).

I transferred the patterns to blank needlepoint canvas with permanent markers (important, since finished pieces have to be water dampened and blocked). I chose my own colors (based on the originals, to be sure). And I stitched, stitched, stitched.

I'm rather proud that I even designed a curling tiger's tail strap. I put the whole thing together myself. I even found what I think is the perfect Indonesian batik print fabric for lining.

I no longer carry a shoulder bag for books – haven’t in decades. So now it’s just hanging around for decoration. But every time I look at it, I remember those early days of needlepointing, and how many pieces have come since. And I remember my mother’s stories and smile. I don’t remember details of them, since I stopped listening after about the 100^th telling. But without them I might never have stitched my Tiger Bag. Thank you, Mom!