Puzzlify notes

A thank-you for your costume and fashion museum volunteers: a photo of the gown on its stand, the row of hat boxes or the old sewing machine as a jigsaw, with your note at the end

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Written by the team behind Puzzlify. Puzzlify is our product, so weigh what follows with that in mind. We've tried to make this useful even if you never use it. We're not affiliated with any costume museum, fashion museum, dress collection, textile museum, lace or embroidery museum, hat or shoe museum, historic house, university or college collection, theatre wardrobe, costume society, dress history society, embroiderers' guild, antiques dealer, auction house, fashion brand, council, heritage body, heritage funder, sponsor, school or community organisation. Nothing here is legal, valuation, antiques, conservation, object handling, textile care, pest control, chemical, arsenic, mercury, fire, health and safety, first aid, safeguarding, dementia care, copyright, design rights, photography permission, employment or data protection advice; check your own group's guidance on gifts, photos, the collection, the handling objects, children and people's details.

It's eleven o'clock on a quiet Wednesday at the end of October, and a retired dressmaker called Pauline is pulling on a pair of white cotton gloves in the back room of a small costume museum in a Georgian town house. On the big padded table in front of her lies a silk evening dress from the 1920s, pale green, heavy with glass beads, folded with acid-free tissue in every crease. It came in last month in a suitcase from someone's attic, and today Pauline and two other volunteers will measure it, photograph it, write down every mark and every missing bead, and lay it in a box where it can rest, flat and dark, for another hundred years.

Downstairs the galleries are open. There's a Victorian mourning gown on a padded stand in a dim corner, a case of tiny embroidered baby shoes, a wall of hats from feathered Edwardian cartwheels to 1960s pillboxes, a row of corsets that make visitors wince, a wedding dress from every decade since the first war, and a treadle sewing machine by the window that children are allowed to try. A gallery steward is explaining to a group of teenagers why ladies' dresses in the 1860s were so wide, and a volunteer at the handling table is letting a man in his eighties hold a demob suit very like the one he remembers his father wearing.

Pauline isn't the only one. There are gallery stewards who answer questions and keep a gentle eye on the cases; collections volunteers who catalogue, store and care for thousands of garments, shoes, hats, fans, gloves and pieces of lace; conservation volunteers who stitch tiny supports into split silk under the conservator's guidance; mount-makers who pad out stands so that each dress hangs as it was meant to; photographers and digitisers who record every object; research volunteers who date dresses from their sleeves and seams, and answer emails from people trying to identify a grandmother's wedding dress; an archive team who care for pattern books, fashion plates, magazines and dressmakers' ledgers; volunteers who run reminiscence sessions with care homes; education volunteers who run "what did they wear?" days for schools; a costume-making group who sew the replica clothes for the dressing-up rail; a shop team; a treasurer; a secretary; and a handful of trustees who keep a fragile, irreplaceable collection safe on very little money.

If you've been on a tour, given a dress to the collection, been helped to identify a family garment, or simply live with one of these people, this guide is for you. It's about how to say thank you in a way that feels personal and appropriate, with words first and an optional gift second. One idea is a private digital jigsaw made from a photo of a gown on its stand, a row of hat boxes, the treadle sewing machine or a drawer of lace, with your note revealed when the last piece goes in. But there are plenty of other good ideas, and we've listed those too.

Who we mean

By costume and fashion museum volunteers we mean anyone who gives their time to look after the history of what people wore, including:

  • gallery stewards and guides, who welcome visitors, answer questions and tell the stories behind the clothes;
  • handling-table volunteers, who let visitors touch and try the replica and handling collections;
  • collections volunteers, who catalogue, number, store and check thousands of garments and accessories;
  • conservation volunteers, who help the conservator with cleaning, support stitching and careful repairs;
  • mount-makers and display volunteers, who pad stands, dress mannequins and help install exhibitions;
  • photographers and digitisers, who record every object and put collections online;
  • research and identification volunteers, who date garments and answer enquiries;
  • archive volunteers, who care for pattern books, fashion plates, magazines, ledgers and photographs;
  • reminiscence and outreach volunteers, who take handling boxes to care homes, day centres and libraries;
  • education volunteers, who run school days, workshops and family activities;
  • costume-making and sewing volunteers, who make replicas, dressing-up clothes and padded supports;
  • shop, events and fundraising volunteers;
  • treasurers, secretaries, trustees and the founders who started it all.

Some costume collections are national museums with large paid teams, some are part of a historic house, a university or a local museum, and some are small charities that began with one person's wardrobe of old dresses. Most rely on volunteers for a great deal of the work.

Words first

The most important part of any thank-you is what you say. Costume museum volunteers often work out of sight. A visitor sees a beautiful dress in a case, but they rarely see the volunteer who spent three weeks stitching a net support behind its shattered silk, or the one who padded the stand so the shoulders sit right, or the treasurer who found the money for a dehumidifier. So be specific:

  • name the job: "every Wednesday in the store since 2015", "the hours you spent cataloguing the hat collection", "the school day you ran for my daughter's class", "the wedding dress you dated from a single photograph";
  • name a moment: the afternoon you let my son try the treadle machine, the day you showed us my grandmother's dress laid out on the table, the reminiscence session when my mum held a pair of 1950s gloves and started to sing;
  • name what it meant: the first time my daughter looked at old photographs and asked who made the clothes, the way you made a nervous donor feel her mother's dress was in safe hands, the feeling that the women who wore and sewed those clothes were real;
  • name the years: "eleven years of Wednesdays in white gloves" means more than "thank you for all you do".

If you're thanking a whole group, try to name the people who never get named. The treasurer, the person who keeps the collection database, the volunteer who checks the moth traps, the one who irons the dressing-up clothes and the one who answers the enquiries inbox. They're the ones who keep a costume museum open.

A sentence like "you saved thousands of ordinary people's clothes from the bin" can sound like a big claim, but at a volunteer-run costume collection it's often simply true. If it is, say it.

Who it suits

A photo jigsaw with a note works best for someone who:

  • enjoys a small puzzle on a phone or tablet, which, for someone who spends their days matching patterns, seams and beads, may feel very natural;
  • has a strong feeling for a particular garment, a gallery, a decade or a collection;
  • is stepping down as a steward, retiring from the collections team or celebrating a long-service milestone;
  • has finished a long project, such as a catalogue of the shoe collection, a conserved gown or a new exhibition, and would love to see it in a new way;
  • has moved away and misses the collection and the people;
  • has a partner or family who'd like to say thank you for all the time they gave.

It's less suitable for someone who doesn't use a phone or a computer at all, in which case a handwritten card may be better, or someone who would feel uncomfortable being singled out. For them, a quiet word in the workroom after the last visitor has gone may be best.

The collection comes first

A few practical rules before you send anything:

  • A gallery shift is working time. When volunteers are stewarding, running the handling table or helping someone with an enquiry, they're concentrating on the people in front of them and the objects around them. Never interrupt, even with a thank-you. Wait until they're free, or leave a card at the front desk.
  • Light is the enemy. Old silk, wool, dyes and feathers fade and weaken in light, which is why galleries are dim and some cases have covers. Don't lift covers, open blinds or use a flash, and don't ask a volunteer to bring a garment into the sunshine for a better photo.
  • Hands off the real things. Skin carries oils, salts and dirt that damage textiles, and old fabric can tear under its own weight. Only the handling collection is for touching, and only where the museum says so. Collection garments are handled by trained volunteers, usually in gloves, usually flat on a table.
  • Some old clothes carry hazards. Some Victorian greens were coloured with arsenic, some old hats were made using mercury, some fur and feathers were treated with pesticides, and some early plastics and celluloid buttons, combs and accessories are fragile and flammable. Museums manage this. Visitors shouldn't handle collection pieces, and volunteers follow the museum's rules on gloves, masks and storage.
  • Pests are serious. Clothes moths and carpet beetles can destroy a collection, and volunteers check traps and quarantine new donations. Don't bring old woollens, furs or feathers into the store without asking, and don't be offended if a donation has to go into the freezer before it joins the collection.
  • Donations are a decision, not a promise. Museums can't accept everything, and the collections team decides what fits. If you're offering a family garment, ask first and don't leave bags on the doorstep. And volunteers can't tell you what your grandmother's dress is worth; a museum won't give valuations.
  • Bodies and feelings. Corsets, mourning dress, maternity clothes, children's clothes and clothes connected with illness, poverty or war can stir strong feelings, and a garment may be the last thing someone has of a person they loved. The volunteers decide how these stories are told. Keep your thank-you warm, and never make fun of anyone's body or clothes.
  • Fire. Textiles, tissue paper and boxes burn easily. Don't bring candles, lighters or anything with a flame inside unless the museum has arranged it and its fire rules allow it.
  • Paid staff. Some costume collections have paid curators, conservators and managers, and their employers may have rules about gifts. Keep anything for paid staff small and personal, and check with the volunteer coordinator if you're not sure.
  • The museum's money is the museum's. If you'd like to support the museum, donate directly, become a member or sponsor the conservation of an object. Don't use museum funds for a personal thank-you to a single volunteer unless the trustees agree. A personal gift from you is a different thing, and a modest one is fine.
  • Children and visitors. Families and school groups visit with their own rules on photos and names, and the museum will have its own safeguarding policy. Never photograph other people's children or post about a particular group without agreement.
  • Cash and people's details. Keep the volunteer rota, the donor records, the enquiries, the loan agreements, the membership list, the cash box and anyone's phone number out of everything you photograph or send.

When to send it

Good moments to thank a costume or fashion museum volunteer:

  • at the end of the summer season, when the museum moves to winter hours or closes for the winter;
  • after a big exhibition opens, which may have taken years of preparation;
  • when a long project is finished: a catalogue of a collection, a conserved garment, a new online collection or a move to a better store;
  • when a volunteer runs their first handling session or tour on their own, or steps down after many years;
  • at the museum's annual general meeting, when everyone in the room is thanked;
  • after a school visit or a reminiscence session, when the teacher or the care home has written to say thank you;
  • in the winter, when the galleries are closed but the store, the workroom and the archive are busy;
  • in memory of a volunteer who has died, with their family's agreement.

There's no wrong time to say thank you, but late October is a good one. The clocks go back this Sunday in the UK, Ireland and much of Europe, half-term is here or nearly here, and many costume collections are ending their summer exhibitions and settling into the long winter of cataloguing, checking and planning. It's also the season when the dressing-up rail gets its busiest week of the year, as children arrive wanting to try on everything before Halloween, and when the collections team starts thinking about winter coats, party frocks and the Christmas display.

Why a jigsaw can fit

Clothes are pieces. A dress is panels, sleeves, a bodice, a skirt, a hundred hooks and eyes. A pattern is pieces laid out on a table and fitted together. A collection is pieces too: a glove here, a shoe there, a hat box, a fan, a card of buttons, a fragment of lace. And a costume museum is pieces as well: the stewards, the cataloguers, the conservators, the mount-makers, the photographers, the researchers, the sewing group, the shop volunteers, the trustees. A jigsaw of a gown on its stand, a row of hat boxes or the old sewing machine, with a note that appears when the last piece goes in, echoes that rather nicely.

It's private, it's small, and it doesn't add to the clutter in someone's house, which, if they're a costume museum volunteer, may already be full of fabric, patterns, books on dress history and a sewing machine on the dining table. And unlike a framed print, it can be sent from anywhere: from the family who gave the wedding dress, from the volunteer who moved away, from a researcher on the other side of the world who only dated her great-grandmother's photograph because a volunteer answered an email.

The stewards are the museum's face. They welcome visitors, explain where to go, keep a gentle eye on the cases, notice when a child is about to lean on the glass, and answer every question: how did they get into that, how did they sit down, who washed it, and was it really that small? The guides tell the bigger story, about how clothes were made, who made them, what they cost and what they said about the people who wore them. A note might mention the tour you went on, the story they told about one particular dress, or the way they made a teenager who "doesn't care about clothes" stay for an hour. A photo of a quiet gallery with a single gown on its stand suits them.

For the handling-table and education volunteers

The handling-table volunteers let people touch history: the weight of a wool cloak, the stiffness of a starched collar, the feel of a whalebone corset, the sound of a silk petticoat. The education volunteers run the school days, the dressing-up sessions and the "make your own fashion plate" workshops, and they talk to class teachers beforehand about the children who need extra care. A note might mention the replica crinoline your daughter wouldn't take off, the button-making your son still talks about, or the treadle machine your class queued to try. A photo of the treadle sewing machine by the window, or the dressing-up rail full of replicas, suits them.

For the collections and conservation volunteers

The collections volunteers do the quiet work that makes everything else possible. They number every object, measure it, describe it, photograph it, fold it with tissue, box it, label it and find it again when someone asks. The conservation volunteers work under the conservator's guidance, surface-cleaning with a tiny vacuum through a net, stitching supports behind splits, and checking the moth traps every month. It takes patience, steady hands and good eyes. A note might mention the gown they spent a winter conserving, the hat collection they finally catalogued, or the care they took with the dress your family gave. A photo of a neat row of labelled storage boxes, or a stack of hat boxes on a shelf, suits them.

For the mount-makers and display volunteers

A dress on a hanger looks like nothing. A dress on a stand padded to the right shape, with the waist in the right place and the skirt held out as it was meant to be, looks like a person has just stepped out of it. The mount-makers pad, cover and adjust every stand, and the display team help install every exhibition, often in the evenings and at weekends. A note might mention the exhibition that took your breath away, or simply thank them for making every dress look alive. A photo of a gown on its stand, taken from the front in soft light with permission, suits them.

For the research, archive and digitising volunteers

The research volunteers can date a dress from its sleeves, its seams, its fastenings and its fabric, and they answer emails from people with a wedding photograph or a box of clothes and a question. The archive volunteers care for pattern books, fashion plates, magazines, dressmakers' ledgers, shop catalogues and photographs. The digitisers photograph and describe every object so that people anywhere can see the collection online. A note might mention the photograph they dated, the ledger page that named your great-grandmother as a seamstress, or the online collection you browsed for an evening. A photo of an open fashion plate or a pattern book, taken with permission and without any names, suits them.

For the reminiscence and outreach volunteers

The reminiscence volunteers take boxes of handling objects to care homes, day centres and libraries: a 1950s headscarf, a pair of nylons in their packet, a school tie, a dance dress, a dad's flat cap. For people living with memory loss, a familiar garment can open a door that words can't. The volunteers know how to share these moments gently, and how to step back if a memory is painful. A note might mention the session when your dad held a tie like his old school's and told a story you'd never heard. A photo of a handling box with a few objects laid out on a table suits them.

For the costume-making and sewing volunteers

Somebody has to make the replicas for the dressing-up rail, the padded supports for the stands, the covers for the hangers and the tiny bags for the buttons, and then wash and mend everything after every school holiday. The sewing volunteers do it, often at home, often in the evenings. A note might mention the replica bonnet your daughter wore all afternoon, or simply thank them for the hours at the sewing machine. A photo of a basket of threads and a pincushion beside the old treadle machine suits them.

For the trustees and the founders

The trustees carry the responsibility: the building, the store, the environmental controls, the insurance, the fire safety, the safeguarding policy, the collection records, the loans, the grants, the volunteers and the accounts. The founders were often collectors who couldn't bear to see good clothes thrown away, or a group who rescued a collection when another museum let it go. If the museum exists because of them, say so. A photo of the building as it is now, or the first object in the collection, suits them.

If you live with a costume museum volunteer

Partners and families give up a lot: the Wednesdays, the exhibition openings, the boxes of tissue paper in the hall, the sewing machine running late at night, the committee meetings and the holidays planned around other people's costume collections. If you live with a costume museum volunteer, a jigsaw from you can say something they might not hear from anyone else: "Thank you for all the time you give. I know what that collection means to you, and I'm proud of you." A photo of the building from your favourite walk, or their favourite gown in its case, suits this.

When a long-serving volunteer steps down

When someone leaves after many years, the museum often gives them a card, a framed photograph or something small and fitting, such as a print of a fashion plate or a card of vintage buttons. A jigsaw from the group can sit alongside that. Pick a photo that sums up their years: the gown they conserved, the workroom table they sat at, the hat collection they catalogued, the gallery they stewarded. Ask everyone to add a line to the note, or keep it short and let the card carry the longer messages.

In memory of a volunteer

Some costume museums name a gallery, an award or a conservation project in memory of a volunteer who has died. If a volunteer has died, a jigsaw can be a gentle way for their family or the group to remember them, but only with the family's agreement. Choose a photo they loved, avoid anything that might upset, leave the leaderboard off, and keep the note simple: "In memory of Pauline, who laid every dress to rest as if it were her own."

For costume and fashion museum volunteers elsewhere

What we've written applies in many places where the history of dress is cared for by volunteers:

  • in England, where costume and fashion museums, dress collections in historic houses, lace and textile museums and local museums with costume stores are kept going by volunteers;
  • in Scotland, Wales, Ireland and Northern Ireland, where national, regional and local museums care for dress, tartan, linen, lace and textile collections with the help of volunteers;
  • in the United States, where costume collections in historical societies, university collections and fashion museums rely on docents, volunteers and costume society members;
  • in Canada, where costume and textile museums and historical societies care for clothing collections with volunteer help;
  • in Australia and New Zealand, where dress collections in local and regional museums are cared for by historical societies and costume groups;
  • across Europe, where fashion, textile, lace, glove, shoe and hat museums keep the history of what people wore open to the public.

The rules about handling, donations, photos, children, gifts and safety vary from place to place. Check your own group's guidance, and keep the thank-you personal and modest.

The best photos for a costume museum thank-you are often the simple ones, taken during a quiet moment, with permission. Some ideas:

  • a single gown on its stand in a dim gallery;
  • a row of hat boxes on a shelf, or a wall of hats;
  • the treadle sewing machine by the window, with a basket of threads;
  • a drawer of lace, buttons or gloves, laid out by the collections team;
  • an open pattern book or fashion plate;
  • a pair of tiny embroidered shoes in their case;
  • the building from the street in autumn light.

Things never to photograph, or to keep out of the frame:

  • other visitors and children, unless they've clearly agreed and, for children, their school or parents and the museum have agreed;
  • volunteers working, especially at the conservation table, unless they've clearly agreed, and never in a way that distracts them or needs a flash;
  • objects the museum asks you not to photograph, including loans and new acquisitions not yet on display;
  • donor records, catalogue cards, labels with donors' names, enquiry emails and any page with names, addresses or signatures;
  • the volunteer rota, the cash box, keys, door codes, alarms and security features;
  • the store, unless the museum has invited you to photograph it.

If the photo has people in it, ask them first. A photo with no people at all, just the gown, the hats, the sewing machine or the building, is often the easiest and best choice.

Getting the JPG right

Puzzlify works from a JPG. Most phone photos are already JPGs, or can be saved as one. A few practical tips:

  • never use a flash: it damages textiles over time, bounces off glass cases and flattens beading and embroidery;
  • galleries are deliberately dim, so tap on the garment to brighten it, hold the phone steady against a doorframe or a pillar, and let the phone take its time;
  • glass cases reflect everything behind you, so put the lens close to the glass and shade it with your hand or a dark scarf;
  • black mourning dress and dark wool can look like holes in the picture, so include something lighter, like a lace collar, a pale wall or a label-free stand, nearby;
  • beads, sequins and metallic thread sparkle beautifully but can blur, so take several shots and keep the steadiest;
  • landscape images usually make the most comfortable puzzles on a phone turned sideways;
  • lace, embroidery, buttons, beading, hat feathers, prints and checks make wonderful puzzles, because every piece has a little detail;
  • large areas of plain silk, plain wall or plain dark fabric are tricky, so crop them or pick fewer pieces;
  • if your phone saves photos in another format, such as HEIC, change the camera setting to "most compatible" or export a copy as JPG;
  • remove location data from the photo before you upload it, especially if it was taken near someone's home. On most phones, you can switch it off in the share options or the camera settings.

Privacy and an optional PIN

The puzzle is private: it's shared as a link, not posted on a public board. You can add an optional PIN so that only someone who knows it can open the puzzle, which is useful if you're sending it to the museum's volunteer email list. Even so, treat the photo as if it might be forwarded, and keep children, people who are working, visitors, donor records, security features and anyone's details out of it. Puzzlify doesn't use your photos to train AI or share them with third parties.

Say it's from you

Museums and their volunteers get a lot of unexpected messages, from fake invoices to "your account has been suspended" scams, and collections that accept donations get more than most. They're rightly wary of unexpected links. Say who it's from and what it is in the message itself: "This is a little jigsaw of the green beaded dress you spent the winter conserving, with a note at the end. It's from me, and it's safe to open." For someone who doesn't use email much, print the link as a QR code inside a card, and hand it over in person after the last visitor has gone.

Piece counts

Pieces Photo idea Best for
24 a single embroidered shoe or a fan, close up a quick solve, or a first puzzle
48 one gown on its stand against a plain wall one clear subject, a relaxed solve
80 the treadle sewing machine with threads and a pincushion a busier image with lots of detail
130 a wall of hats, from feathers to pillboxes a detailed photo for a keen puzzler
252 a drawer of lace, gloves and buttons laid out on tissue a long, slow solve for a long-serving volunteer
48 or 80 the dressing-up rail full of replicas a cheerful thank-you for the sewing group

If you're not sure, 48 or 80 pieces suits most people on a phone. Plain silk, dark wool and dim galleries get tricky at high piece counts, so start lower if the image has large areas of one colour.

How to send it

Upload the photo, pick a piece count, write your note and preview it. When you're happy, publish the link and send it by email or message, print the link or a QR code inside a card, or ask the volunteer coordinator or the museum secretary to pass it on. Start at Puzzlify's photo puzzle maker.

If you're sending one puzzle to a whole team of stewards or the collections group, the optional leaderboard lets everyone see who finished first, which a room full of people who match beads for a living may take very seriously. Some groups enjoy the rivalry; others would rather solve it quietly. For a puzzle sent to one person, for anything connected with someone's family, or after a bereavement, leave it off.

Note examples

  • "To Pauline: eleven years of Wednesdays in white gloves, and every dress you touched is safer for it. Thank you."
  • "To the education team: thank you for the best school trip my class has had. Half of them now want to be dressmakers."
  • "To the research team: thank you for dating Great-Granny's wedding photograph. 1912, just as the family always said."
  • "To the sewing group: thank you for every replica bonnet and every padded hanger. The children love the rail."
  • "To my wife: thank you for the Wednesdays, the tissue paper in the hall and the most beautiful exhibition I've ever seen."

(Change the names, and keep anything personal or identifying out of a puzzle that may be shared.)

Honest pricing

Making and previewing a puzzle is free in your browser. You only pay when you publish the link to send it: one credit is EUR 3.99, three credits are EUR 8.99, and Plus is EUR 14.99 a year for ten credits, which can make sense if you want to thank the stewards, the collections team and the sewing group separately. The person you send it to doesn't need an account or an app; they just open the link in a browser.

This is a digital jigsaw you play on a screen. It isn't a cardboard puzzle in the post, a printed product, a framed picture, a teaching resource, a raffle prize or a public puzzle board, and it isn't connected to any costume museum, fashion museum, collection or heritage body. It's also not puzzlify.io (a chess site), Puzzlit, Puzzly or Puzzify, which are different things.

Ideas that are not a puzzle

A jigsaw is only one way to say thank you, and often not the most important one. Other ideas that costume museum volunteers tend to love:

  • a handwritten card, left at the front desk or posted to the museum, saying exactly what their work meant to you;
  • a letter or drawings from a class after a school visit, if their school is happy to send them;
  • a thank-you in the museum's newsletter, the local paper or the community magazine, naming the cataloguers, the mount-makers, the sewing group, the shop volunteers and the treasurer as well as the stewards;
  • nominating a volunteer or the museum for a local volunteering or heritage award, if your area has one;
  • joining the museum, paying the membership, or sponsoring the conservation of a garment;
  • writing a kind review, so that more people find their way to the collection;
  • offering family photographs, stories or garments to the collection, if you ask first and they'd be welcome;
  • sitting down with the oral history or research volunteers to record what you know about a family garment or the dressmaker who made it;
  • offering your time: a shift on the gallery, help at an event or a hand with the sewing, once you've joined properly and done any training and checks the group needs;
  • a tin of good biscuits for the volunteers' room, kept well away from the workroom table, which never fails.

If a photo puzzle feels right as well, choose the gown, the hats, the sewing machine, the lace or the building, take it during a quiet moment with permission and without a flash, keep children, people who are working, visitors, donor records, security features and anyone's details out of the frame, pick a piece count that suits them, and write the note in your own words. You can make a free preview here and decide later whether to send it.

Whatever you send, the most important part is the sentence that sounds like you, written to the person who pulls on the white gloves, folds the tissue into every crease and answers every question about how anyone ever sat down in that, who keeps ordinary people's clothes safe so that the women and men who sewed, wore and mended them are remembered, so that next spring, when a teenager stops in front of a dress from a hundred years ago and says "I'd wear that", someone is there to smile and tell them who did, one stitch, one garment, one piece at a time.

Written by the small team behind Puzzlify (info@puzzlify.app). Not legal, valuation, antiques, conservation, object handling, textile care, pest control, chemical, arsenic, mercury, fire, health and safety, first aid, safeguarding, dementia care, copyright, design rights, photography permission, employment or data protection advice. Check your own group's guidance on gifts, photos, the collection, the handling objects, children and people's details.