I'm guessing, going by the print on her robe, that she was made around 1970 or so. She has a little bit of an attitude, and I was celebrating the new year by only doing things that I don't have to do, so I decided to spiff her up.
I removed some odd bits of fabric. She'd been holding a scuzzy piece of a blue fabric with a torn label on it. Maybe she was supposed to be reading a book. And she had the remnants of some brown felt around her eyes, which I realized had once been eyeglasses. I was enough on vacation that I forgot to take a "before" photo, but here are some of the little bits I took off.
I decided to make her knitting instead of reading. I pried, i.e. peeled, the blue thing out of her hands. She only lost one finger in the process.....
I made knitting needles out of toothpicks and a couple of silver beads.
I discovered that it's possible, at least sometimes, to separate the two layers of a double knit, and then it looks kind of like hand knitting. I was actually trying to unravel the fabric, and it came apart between the layers instead. Way easier than what I had been attempting.
I glued the fabric around the knitting needles and glued her hands around the needles too. Here is a bird's eye, or doll's eye, view of the knitting.
I made a ball of yarn with a circle of fabric wrapped around a bit of batting and attached it to the chair leg. I did manage to unravel a thread, and used that to connect the knitting needles to the ball of yarn.
I simply slid the earpieces under her hair.
I also patched some rather large holes in a rather unmentionable part of her anatomy by glueing on some new felt. I won't embarrass her by showing the patches to you, but will just say that she serves as a reminder to all of us to get up occasionally from our needlework so we don't wear out in unmentionable places.
Her name is Blanche. Here she is, enjoying a sunny winter day in the conservatory.