ABOUT OTRANTIA FEGG*
A fictional biography of the originator of "Make Do & Mend"
Otrantia Fegg lives with her brother, Colonel Arbuthnot Strang, in a small Edwardian house in an unfashionable part of Kent. She developed “Make Do and Mend” designs to bring the imaginative treatment of re-used textiles, which she had practiced all her life, to a new generation.
Born in 1943 in the depths of the Second World War, Otrantia is too young to remember the conflict but grew up during the post-war rationing. However, her family’s long tradition with textiles goes back much further. Otrantia’s grandmother was the revered suffragist and feminist Vesta Fegg, who, though once a promising student at the Royal School of Needlework, is best known for her militant political activity. Part of Vesta’s philosophy was that it was through textiles that women, traditionally deprived of most means of self-expression, were able to develop their creativity. Her mother, Augusta Keywood, had worked with May Morris before her marriage and taught her daughter tapestry and embroidery from an early age.
By her early 20s, however, Vesta felt the restrictions of her mother’s pseudo-medieval view of womanhood to be profoundly mistaken. She had received a surprisingly good academic education and always had a flair for geometry. After considerable financial and personal struggles, she succeeded in gaining a place at Girton to read mathematics. It was here that she met the McKenzie sisters, Winifred and Ethelberta, in whom she immediately recognised a kindred interest in feminist theory.
Born in 1943 in the depths of the Second World War, Otrantia is too young to remember the conflict but grew up during the post-war rationing. However, her family’s long tradition with textiles goes back much further. Otrantia’s grandmother was the revered suffragist and feminist Vesta Fegg, who, though once a promising student at the Royal School of Needlework, is best known for her militant political activity. Part of Vesta’s philosophy was that it was through textiles that women, traditionally deprived of most means of self-expression, were able to develop their creativity. Her mother, Augusta Keywood, had worked with May Morris before her marriage and taught her daughter tapestry and embroidery from an early age.
By her early 20s, however, Vesta felt the restrictions of her mother’s pseudo-medieval view of womanhood to be profoundly mistaken. She had received a surprisingly good academic education and always had a flair for geometry. After considerable financial and personal struggles, she succeeded in gaining a place at Girton to read mathematics. It was here that she met the McKenzie sisters, Winifred and Ethelberta, in whom she immediately recognised a kindred interest in feminist theory.
Vesta (on horse) with the McKenzie sisters, Winifred (left) and Ethelberta (right). Later, Vesta was to reflect that it was Ethelberta’s love of what Vesta called “amateur theatricals” which led to the Jermyn Street Incident and Ethelberta’s conviction for affray.
The roll of “Fred” and “Bertie” McKenzie in the suffragette movement has been well documented elsewhere. While Vesta was utterly committed to the cause, after the Jermyn Street Incident she confined her activities to more conventional political activity. It was during this period she became acquainted, through academic contacts in the world of mathematics, with Bertrand Russell, who was to involve her so closely in the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament later. During the Great War, “Fred” drifted away from the suffragette movement and, having survived being shelled while working as a nurse at a field hospital in Flanders, died in the influenza epidemic of 1919. Her sister Bertie continued to court trouble, having regular brushes with the authorities before joining the Communist Party in 1933. Bertie’s activities caused considerable difficulty for Vesta, who was by this time teaching mathematics at Girton. Her short-lived marriage to Cyril Weatherby, the concert flautist, had produced just one child, her daughter Joan, who was to be Otrantia’s mother.
Joan’s relationship with her bluestocking mother was always volatile, and when Joan married James Arkwright Strang, then a Captain in the Black Watch, Vesta did not attend the wedding. Everything Strang stood for was anathema to Vesta, but when Joan, living alone but for two elderly servants in the ugly Victorian mansion at East Grinstead, had twins in 1943, Vesta provided hand-embroidered christening robes for the infant Otrantia and her brother Arbuthnot. She did not, however, attend the christening, as the Strang clan was out in force (and Major Arkwright Strang back from North Africa) and, as she observed in a letter to Bertie, she could not trust herself not to say something she might later regret. |
The role of Major Arkwright Strang in the Normandy landings is well known to military historians. It is of little interest to them, however, that after his death it was discovered that a combination of poor investments and extravagance meant that his widow was left in very straitened circumstances. She had never been a good manager and had despised the domestic skills which her mother had tried to inculcate in her. Matters deteriorated and no doubt the fire which gutted Critchley House in the winter of 1946 was indeed caused, as suggested at the time, by carelessness with a poorly-maintained oil lamp after the electricity supply had been cut off. It was at this point that Vesta stepped in and took command of the situation.
(Right) Vesta's wistful watercolour of the tumbledown farmhouse that they could not afford to buy. It deteriorated steadily over the years and nothing is to be seen now but a patch of nettles. |
Having sorted out the insurance and resolved the problems with probate still extant after the Major’s death, Vesta asked Bertie to look out for something suitable among the many empty properties then available near the south coast. She found and purchased a modest Edwardian house in this unfashionable part of Kent, using part of the insurance money to remedy the worst of the dilapidations resulting from wartime neglect. The rest of the money was invested in gilt-edged securities and, with her military widow’s pension, it might be assumed that Joan could settle to raising her children quietly in the country. But worse was to come. On their way to lunch in Rye in a friend’s open-topped car, they rounded a sharp bend to encounter a flock of sheep being driven along the road. Joan was flung from the passenger seat and knocked unconscious as she landed. By the time the shepherd had realised what had happened and scrambled down the slippery bank towards her, she had drowned in the deep waters of the marsh dyke.
It was suggested by the Strang’s solicitors that the two small children should be sent to live with their paternal grandfather in Fife. Vesta firmly refused to countenance the idea, and, resigning her post at Bletchley, moved to the little house overlooking the marsh to take on the care of her grandchildren. The terms of Major Arkwright Strang’s will determined that Arbuthnot should attend the same prep school as his father, before following him to Harrow. Despite a bursary, the fees left scant funds for Vesta and Otrantia, and thus the little girl grew up with a talent for getting by without spending money.
Though her own academic career ran counter to his principles, Vesta had always been a warm admirer of William Cobbett, and his “Cottage Economy” became their handbook of self-sufficiency. Though they never ventured to keep a cow, they had bees and ate a largely vegetarian diet enlivened by the occasional rabbit or pigeon. Otrantia was left with friends (usually the redoubtable Bertie, now living quietly in Hythe) while Vesta, an increasingly eccentric figure with her raggedly trimmed grey bob and home-made clothes, made her forays to London to keep up with the old crowd. Not surprisingly considering her life-long pacifism, she became involved with CND very early on, and her sturdy figure can be seen striding purposely forward in many of the photos of the Aldermaston marches, usually holding aloft one end of one of the many banners which she sewed for the campaign.
For Otrantia it was, by any standards, an extraordinary childhood. When they first moved in, conditions at the house, “Prospect Cottage”, were Spartan in the extreme. Vesta had mains water laid on almost immediately – one of her sayings was “contaminated water has killed more people than famine and war combined” – but electricity did not arrive till 1962 and as late as 1975 the family were still using an earth closet. Food was never in short supply but as far as possible Vesta avoided the five mile cycle ride to the nearest village shop except for essentials like sugar for jam. Tea and coffee were banned, and chamomile, lemon balm, rosehips and blackberry leaves were dried for what Vesta always called “tisanes”; her home-made dandelion beer, however, was legendary. Guests were asked to bring recent newspapers or journals down with them. When Otrantia got off the school bus of an evening, she never knew whether the kitchen would be full of the scents of home-brewing, or whether a group including Russell would be clustered round the table discussing the latest news from Berlin or some short story in “Argosy”. Sometimes Bertie would be there, wreathed in the smoke from Woodbines, having made the trek up from Hythe by bus. She had found love, late in life and quite unexpectedly, with a plumber called Nigel Burt; much to the surprise of Otrantia, who had rather assumed that she was, in her land army trousers and fisherman’s sweater, what Vesta called “of the Sapphic persuasion”. Bertie refused to marry, on the straightforward grounds that she did not wish to become ‘Bertie Burt’.
It was when she went up on a scholarship to Somerville that Otrantia adopted her grandmother’s surname, much to the disgust of her brother, who had followed his father’s footsteps from Harrow to Sandhurst and thence to the Black Watch. Otrantia followed her grandmother’s path and it is no surprise to see her face amongst photographs of activity at Greenham Common. Despite graduating with a “good second” and gaining congenial employment at the organisational headquarters of The Samaritans, she had grown up too far off the beaten track to ever really settle to life in an office. At Vesta’s suggestion, she set up the nursery on land close to Prospect Cottage which was soon to become a vade mecum for esoteric plants, exhibiting year after year at Vincent Square, the small stand crammed with rare forms of wild species; the double buttercups, blue wood anemones, green hellebores and hose-in-hose primroses rapidly selling out. Though “The Quo Vadis Nursery” was to become a horticultural legend, the years of hard work building it up took their toll on Otrantia, and after Vesta’s tragic death during the G20 protests Otrantia handed over the day to day running of “Quo Vadis” to Nigel’s daughter Violet Burt, in whose capable hands it continues to thrive in its small, select way.
After retiring from the army, Colonel Strang chose to move back to his childhood home with its sweeping skies and unforgiving sou’westerly winds. The twins get on surprisingly well, and though the Colonel’s love of duck-shooting and occasional indulgence in a well-matured steak cause as much friction as Otrantia’s bohemian guests and the smells of home-brewing, there is no doubt his army pension is a welcome addition to the household finances. With time on her hands and a lifetime’s accumulation of carefully hoarded textiles, Otrantia started to make aprons, pegbags or teacosies for friends from items which were too damaged or worn to use for their original purpose. From this venture “Make Do & Mend” was born. Every “Make Do & Mend” item is unique, and the designs are determined by the fabrics available. Every item is still handmade by Otrantia, with many pieces including the teacosies being hand-stitched throughout. “I’ll never make any sensible money” she told me, “but it amuses me and gives me something to do with my hands while listening to the radio of an evening”
*Otrantia Fegg is not the real name of the inventor of "Make Do & Mend". All names, places and events have been changed to protect the guilty.
It was suggested by the Strang’s solicitors that the two small children should be sent to live with their paternal grandfather in Fife. Vesta firmly refused to countenance the idea, and, resigning her post at Bletchley, moved to the little house overlooking the marsh to take on the care of her grandchildren. The terms of Major Arkwright Strang’s will determined that Arbuthnot should attend the same prep school as his father, before following him to Harrow. Despite a bursary, the fees left scant funds for Vesta and Otrantia, and thus the little girl grew up with a talent for getting by without spending money.
Though her own academic career ran counter to his principles, Vesta had always been a warm admirer of William Cobbett, and his “Cottage Economy” became their handbook of self-sufficiency. Though they never ventured to keep a cow, they had bees and ate a largely vegetarian diet enlivened by the occasional rabbit or pigeon. Otrantia was left with friends (usually the redoubtable Bertie, now living quietly in Hythe) while Vesta, an increasingly eccentric figure with her raggedly trimmed grey bob and home-made clothes, made her forays to London to keep up with the old crowd. Not surprisingly considering her life-long pacifism, she became involved with CND very early on, and her sturdy figure can be seen striding purposely forward in many of the photos of the Aldermaston marches, usually holding aloft one end of one of the many banners which she sewed for the campaign.
For Otrantia it was, by any standards, an extraordinary childhood. When they first moved in, conditions at the house, “Prospect Cottage”, were Spartan in the extreme. Vesta had mains water laid on almost immediately – one of her sayings was “contaminated water has killed more people than famine and war combined” – but electricity did not arrive till 1962 and as late as 1975 the family were still using an earth closet. Food was never in short supply but as far as possible Vesta avoided the five mile cycle ride to the nearest village shop except for essentials like sugar for jam. Tea and coffee were banned, and chamomile, lemon balm, rosehips and blackberry leaves were dried for what Vesta always called “tisanes”; her home-made dandelion beer, however, was legendary. Guests were asked to bring recent newspapers or journals down with them. When Otrantia got off the school bus of an evening, she never knew whether the kitchen would be full of the scents of home-brewing, or whether a group including Russell would be clustered round the table discussing the latest news from Berlin or some short story in “Argosy”. Sometimes Bertie would be there, wreathed in the smoke from Woodbines, having made the trek up from Hythe by bus. She had found love, late in life and quite unexpectedly, with a plumber called Nigel Burt; much to the surprise of Otrantia, who had rather assumed that she was, in her land army trousers and fisherman’s sweater, what Vesta called “of the Sapphic persuasion”. Bertie refused to marry, on the straightforward grounds that she did not wish to become ‘Bertie Burt’.
It was when she went up on a scholarship to Somerville that Otrantia adopted her grandmother’s surname, much to the disgust of her brother, who had followed his father’s footsteps from Harrow to Sandhurst and thence to the Black Watch. Otrantia followed her grandmother’s path and it is no surprise to see her face amongst photographs of activity at Greenham Common. Despite graduating with a “good second” and gaining congenial employment at the organisational headquarters of The Samaritans, she had grown up too far off the beaten track to ever really settle to life in an office. At Vesta’s suggestion, she set up the nursery on land close to Prospect Cottage which was soon to become a vade mecum for esoteric plants, exhibiting year after year at Vincent Square, the small stand crammed with rare forms of wild species; the double buttercups, blue wood anemones, green hellebores and hose-in-hose primroses rapidly selling out. Though “The Quo Vadis Nursery” was to become a horticultural legend, the years of hard work building it up took their toll on Otrantia, and after Vesta’s tragic death during the G20 protests Otrantia handed over the day to day running of “Quo Vadis” to Nigel’s daughter Violet Burt, in whose capable hands it continues to thrive in its small, select way.
After retiring from the army, Colonel Strang chose to move back to his childhood home with its sweeping skies and unforgiving sou’westerly winds. The twins get on surprisingly well, and though the Colonel’s love of duck-shooting and occasional indulgence in a well-matured steak cause as much friction as Otrantia’s bohemian guests and the smells of home-brewing, there is no doubt his army pension is a welcome addition to the household finances. With time on her hands and a lifetime’s accumulation of carefully hoarded textiles, Otrantia started to make aprons, pegbags or teacosies for friends from items which were too damaged or worn to use for their original purpose. From this venture “Make Do & Mend” was born. Every “Make Do & Mend” item is unique, and the designs are determined by the fabrics available. Every item is still handmade by Otrantia, with many pieces including the teacosies being hand-stitched throughout. “I’ll never make any sensible money” she told me, “but it amuses me and gives me something to do with my hands while listening to the radio of an evening”
*Otrantia Fegg is not the real name of the inventor of "Make Do & Mend". All names, places and events have been changed to protect the guilty.