A Stitch Out Of Time

Silk hosiery mending kit, c. late 1940s - early 1950s.

This article is a petite 3/4" wide by 2" high. Earlier versions, such as this, are the size of standard matchbooks. In all cases, the insides of the kits supplied silk thread (here, in several shades), along with cardboard tabs topped by blobs of glue.

Directions for use, "Run-Arrestor Wands"—

Back cover, with distributor's details—

The Indiana Historical Society offers a company history. Founded in 1922, Real Silk manufactured hosiery, lingerie, and underwear. Operations would expand to mills in Indiana, Georgia, and Mississippi.

In the wording of the Historical Society account, "The company ran into financial difficulties in the early 1930s as a result of the Great Depression, and control was assumed by a bank committee." New ownership took control in 1932, but—

Difficulties soon occurred with labor over wage increases which resulted in a strike in April and May, 1934, that included the arrests of sixteen strikers in Indianapolis.

"Difficulties"... Elsewhere on the Historical Society site are these notes—

The Real Silk Hosiery Mills Strike was one of the most violent in Indianapolis' history, lasting from April to May 1934. No clear winner to the dispute emerged but all sides were pacified.

Which links to this item in the collection: an April 1934 Indianapolis Times editorial, "The Real Issue at Real Silk." This was "Indianapolis' first real test of the new deal," said the paper. It criticized the company for claiming a company-controlled organization represented the workers, while company stockholders, workers, and the city's economy were being hurt by the factory stoppage. The editorial concluded—

We hope the strike is settled. Strikes are bad for the community, but justice is of more importance to Indianapolis than Real Silk's pay roll.

The labor problems of Real Silk never can be solved permanently until its management recognizes the right of labor to enjoy the benefit of REAL industrial democracy.

But enough of workers, with their quaint "rights' and "democracy," as we go back to that other account of company history. Which says profits declined during World War II (the war effort took over use of available silk), yet the company also

... was instrumental in the manufacturing of parachutes for bombs as well as hosiery for both male and female military personnel.

Then—

After a post-war profit increase, the financial situation again declined in the early 1950s.

By that time synthetic stockings (later, pantyhose) would have taken over the market.

Gustav Efroymson died in 1946, and control of the company passed to his son, Robert. Under Robert Efroymson's control, the company first closed its manufacturing operations in Indianapolis and Dalton, Georgia, and a short time later closed all other manufacturing operations as well. All the machinery was sold except that which was related to direct-to-consumer selling...Robert Efroymson also directed the retiring of all preferred and some common stock and invested the surplus funds in securities. In 1957 Real Silk Inc. became registered with the Securities and Exchange Commission as an investment company, although they continued the door to door selling of hosiery, lingerie, and other clothing products on a national scale.

It's a very odd part of the story that this guy seems to have been about three decades ahead of the corporate curve in doing what would become SOP: closing production of tangible items, stripping the assets, and switching to financials.

But back in the day, companies did produce actual goods. As an enlarged view of one manufacturer's "stitch in time" matchbook kit shows, thrifty women also did this—

Sarah McFarland, Threads

The cover designs of Real Silk's matchbook kits are very '30s, including a hokey "Oriental" font (also used in the company's ads). But the chic ladies walking their equally chic dogs are quite nice.

It's interesting that images of '30s chic were followed by a more isolated presentation of legs; a new focus attributable to war-time pinups?

This has some nice images. For me, though, it is jarring when interesting old items are filtered through the lens of hipster discovery. Not to mention, semi-literacy—

My favorite kit is the one on the left, with the woman walking the dachshunds, and the one with the woman walking in the rain is also so cute! The backs of the kits have information to get ahold of the Real Silk reps, but I'm not exactly sure what Har. 1855 means.

When a savvy commenter chimes in, "I'll bet Har 1855 was the telephone number," hipster seamstress  replies—

I agree, but I don't know how phone numbers worked back then! Maybe I'll ask my Grandma...