Why Quilters Started in the Middle
Quilt History
The Story Behind Medallion Quilts
If you’ve ever looked at a medallion quilt and thought, “Well, that’s fancy,” you’re not alone.
Most quilts today are made block by block, row by row. We cut our pieces, make our blocks, stack them up, rearrange them seventeen times, take a picture with our phone, rearrange them again, and eventually convince ourselves we meant to do it that way.
A medallion quilt works a little differently.
Instead of beginning with rows of repeated blocks, a medallion quilt starts with one central design and grows outward. Border by border, round by round, the quilt expands from the middle until it reaches its finished size.
It’s a beautiful style with deep roots in textile history, and once you understand where it came from, it makes perfect sense.
Before Quilt Patterns Were Everywhere
Today, if we want to make a quilt, we have no shortage of help.
We have books, magazines, YouTube tutorials, PDF patterns, quilt-alongs, printable charts, Pinterest boards, and more opinions about pressing seams than any reasonable person should have to sort through.
Two hundred and fifty years ago?
Not so much.
Quiltmakers relied heavily on what they learned from family, neighbors, local communities, and their own experience. Printed quilt patterns as we know them today were not sitting around waiting to be downloaded, and nobody was pausing a video tutorial to figure out which way the triangle should face.
Much of the knowledge was passed along by hand, by eye, and by practice.
That meant quilts often grew from what the maker had available and what she found meaningful. Sometimes the center was carefully planned from the beginning. Other times it may have started with a treasured piece of fabric, a favorite motif, an appliquéd basket, a floral design, a wreath, or a central panel too beautiful to chop into little pieces.
And honestly, if you’ve ever bought a fabric and then decided it was “too pretty to cut,” congratulations. You may have more in common with historic quiltmakers than you realized.
A Quilt That Grew Like a Picture Frame
One of the easiest ways to understand a medallion quilt is to think of it like framing a picture.
You begin with the center.
Then you add a frame.
Then maybe another.
Then perhaps a border with piecing, appliqué, vines, stars, flying geese, or whatever design the quilt seems to be asking for next.
Medallion quilts can include all kinds of borders: simple strips, pieced units, floral appliqué, geometric designs, or fabric arranged to show off special prints. In the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, chintz fabrics and appliqué designs became especially fashionable in England, France, and America, and some quilts used large printed motifs or appliqué as dramatic centerpieces.
Each border became another chapter in the quilt.
And just like chapters in a book, some flow smoothly while others feel like the maker may have paused, looked at her fabric pile, and said, “Well. This is what we have now.”
I respect that.
Wait...Isn’t That a Round Robin Quilt?
This is where things can get a little confusing.
At first glance, medallion quilts and round robin quilts can look very similar because both grow outward from a central block.
The difference is usually who adds each round.
A traditional medallion quilt was often planned and made by one quiltmaker, or perhaps within one household, with the design growing from the center outward.
A round robin quilt is a group project. One quilter starts with a center block, then passes it to another quilter who adds a border. Then it moves to the next person, who adds another border, and so on until the quilt eventually returns to the original maker. The American Quilter’s Society describes a round robin as a group project where each member adds a border to a central block, creating a medallion-style quilt.
So, if a medallion quilt is a solo performance, a round robin is more like a quilting potluck.
Everyone brings something to the table.
Sometimes it all works beautifully.
Sometimes Aunt Linda brings lime Jell-O with shredded carrots.
Either way, it’s memorable.
Modern round robins are especially popular in quilt guilds and small quilting groups, and they can be a wonderful way to see how different makers interpret the same starting point. Each border carries the personality of a different quilter: her color choices, her skill level, her favorite blocks, and possibly her strong feelings about half-square triangles.
While round robin quilts often use a medallion-style layout, they are not quite the same thing historically. Medallion quilts have roots reaching back centuries, while round robins are more closely tied to modern quilting groups, guilds, swaps, and collaborative projects.
Every Quilt Was Different
One of my favorite things about studying antique medallion quilts is realizing there really wasn’t one single “correct” way to make one.
Some are perfectly balanced.
Some are wildly ambitious.
Some are elegant and restrained.
Some look like the maker was determined to use every idea she had ever loved in one quilt, and honestly, who among us has not been there?
Borders could vary in width. Patterns could change. Colors could shift. Fabrics could run out. A quilt might begin with a refined center and end with a border that says, “We are finishing this today, and nobody is going to stop me.”
That individuality is part of what makes medallion quilts so fascinating.
They remind us that quiltmaking has always been part skill, part creativity, part resourcefulness, and part negotiation with whatever fabric is actually sitting in front of you.
Why I Love Them
As I’ve been working on my own Jane Austen 250th Anniversary appliqué quilt, I’ve found myself appreciating medallion quilts even more. (Quilting 250 Years Ago)
There’s something peaceful about focusing on one section at a time.
Instead of racing toward the finish line, the quilt slowly grows outward. The center gets your full attention. Then the next border. Then the next.
Each round feels like its own small accomplishment.
It reminds me that quilting wasn’t always about finishing quickly. It wasn’t about checking off a project so we could move to the next thing as fast as possible.
Sometimes it was about working slowly.
Using what was available.
Making something beautiful one decision at a time.
And perhaps occasionally staring at a border and wondering what on earth possessed you to choose that many tiny pieces.
History may not record those moments, but I feel confident they happened.
A Style That Never Really Disappeared
Although quilting styles have changed dramatically over the centuries, medallion quilts have never truly disappeared.
Modern designers still use the same center-out idea in traditional quilts, appliqué quilts, English paper piecing designs, sampler quilts, mystery quilts, and collaborative round robin projects.
The fabrics may change.
The tools may change.
The rotary cutter may occasionally threaten a finger.
But the basic idea remains the same: begin with something meaningful, then build around it.
There is something wonderfully steady about that.
Looking Closely
The next time you see a medallion quilt at a quilt show, in a museum collection, or in a book, don’t just admire the whole finished piece.
Start in the center.
Then let your eyes travel outward, border by border.
You’re following the same path the maker did.
One round at a time.
One decision at a time.
One “well, I hope this works” moment at a time.
It’s a quiet reminder that beautiful things don’t always have to begin at the edge.
Sometimes they begin right in the middle.
Did You Know?
Many eighteenth- and nineteenth-century medallion quilts featured a strong central design surrounded by multiple borders. Some used piecing, some used appliqué, and some highlighted printed chintz fabrics that were highly prized in their time. While every quilt was different, the center-first design became one of the defining features of the medallion style and continues to inspire quilters today.
Coming Next Week
Next week in quilt history, we’ll explore Baltimore Album quilts—those breathtaking appliqué masterpieces filled with flowers, baskets, birds, buildings, and symbols that turned quilts into works of art.
~Chris