As you all may know, I’ve been elbows-deep in bins of craft treasures from yesteryear—sorting, sifting, and marveling at the forgotten materials of makers past. Many of the lots that come through Remnants are from old estates, and with them comes a certain thrill: the chance to discover long-lost patterns, pristine tools, and timeless fabric that somehow never made it into a final project. It’s one of the unexpected joys of running Remnants—unearthing high-quality supplies with a story to tell.
As I open bin after bin, I’ve started to notice some themes. A few deserve their own deep dives (and maybe they’ll get one)—like the surprisingly vast world of heirloom doll costume makers. Or the endless parade of plastic canvas projects that were, until now, almost completely outside my crafting orbit.
But today, I want to talk about one motif in particular that keeps popping up again and again: Sunbonnet Sue.
It started with a piece of fabric that I almost couldn’t part with. A charming, nostalgic print featuring Sue in her signature silhouette. I listed it anyway—and it sold almost immediately.
But among that same maker’s stash were more Sue-related items. Redwork patterns, tiny quilt blocks, paper templates. And then, from the next estate bin: more Sunbonnet Sue. It was enough to spark real curiosity. Who was she? Why did she capture so many makers’ imaginations for so many decades? And what makes her so recognizable—even now?
So, I dug in.
Who Is Sunbonnet Sue?
Sunbonnet Sue is a simple appliqué figure, most often shown in profile, wearing a wide-brimmed bonnet that hides her face. She typically wears a full skirt or pinafore and is seen in playful, domestic, or seasonal scenes—picking flowers, skipping rope, holding a kitten.
Sue’s origins trace back to the late 1800s and early 1900s, inspired by illustrations from British artist Kate Greenaway, artist Bertha Corbett Melcher created Sunbonnet Babies, which appeared in books, illustrations and advertisements between the years of 1900 and 1930.
While Bertha Corbett Melcher created the original Sunbonnet Babies illustrations, she wasn't the one to introduce them to quilting. That credit often goes to Marie Webster, whose stitched version of the figures appeared in the Ladies' Home Journal between 1911 and 1912. The pattern quickly gained traction and became especially popular during the Great Depression, when scrap-friendly designs were essential. In the American South, the motif was often referred to as the "Dutch Doll" well into the 1970s. Over time, Sunbonnet Sue came to represent more than just a charming appliqué—she became a symbol of female innocence and docility, a quiet figure who never shows her face and rarely steps out of line.
A Bit of Backlash
One of the reasons Sue persisted was accessibility: her shape is simple, making her a go-to motif for beginner quilters, and she lends herself well to scraps and hand-stitching. Over time, Sue became more than a pattern—she became a symbol of traditional Americana, domestic life, and in some cases, quiet rebellion. In fact, she’s sparked some tongue-in-cheek resistance over the years. Some quilters have created “Bad Sue” quilts, where she breaks from her obedient image—wielding scissors, robbing banks, or even committing cartoonish crimes. It’s a kind of winking commentary on the expectations of womanhood she came to represent.
Still, love her or mock her, she endures.
Why She’s Caught My Eye
What strikes me most about Sunbonnet Sue—beyond her staying power—is how often she shows up in the bins I receive. These aren’t one-off projects. These are repeated, refined, and clearly beloved pieces. You can tell someone stitched these with care. Or collected the patterns with the intent to someday begin.
To see her appear again and again, across decades and across makers, tells me something. That Sue represents not just a visual motif, but a creative touchstone. A gateway into the world of quilting. A figure of quiet joy, simple design, and handmade charm.
And now? I can’t stop noticing her.
I don’t know if I’ll become a Sunbonnet Sue maker myself. But I do know I’ll keep honoring her presence when she appears in the supplies I find. I’ll keep rescuing her from the forgotten corners of the craft room. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll finally stitch one of my own.
If you have a Sue in your stash, or a quilt that features her, I’d love to see it. Post it in our community or tag us—because this sweet silhouette is more than just a pattern. She’s a part of craft history. And I’m glad I finally took the time to learn her name.
Hi! Thank you for posting this—I’m searching for the history of Sunbonnet Sue quilt pattern and found this useful. At least 30 years ago, I was gifted an unfinished Sunbonnet Sue quilt top created by my grandmother. Judged by the fabrics, she probably pieced it in the 60s or 70s. I am handquilting it now, and I’m filling the negative space around Sue in each block with poetry and reflections on the connections between Sunbonnet Sue, my grandmother, American “innocence” and white supremacy. Kind of a critical look at Sue.