Delphine's Last Duck Bags

The Craftsman’s Review
Stories From America’s Workshops, Farms & Front Porches
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“I told her: that duck holds your lunch money, and when you get scared, you hold its foot.” — Why a 72-year-old Arkansas seamstress is selling her last duck bags at a special price, before she puts her needle down forever.

Delphine Corliss holding one of her white duck bags in the doorway of her sewing shop
Stuttgart, Arkansas. Delphine Corliss has run her little shop on Main Street since 1982. This fall she sewed her last duck bags.

On a hot night in August 2009, a five-year-old girl hid in her grandmother’s closet. She had her shoes on. She would not come out. School started the next morning.

Her grandmother, Delphine Corliss, sat down on the floor next to the closet door and asked what was wrong. “I don’t know anybody there,” little Libby said. “And I’ll lose my lunch money.”

Delphine didn’t argue. She went to her sewing machine and stayed there until almost two in the morning.

The little white duck that walked into kindergarten

A five-year-old girl walking into school wearing a white duck bag
August 2009. Libby walked into school with one hand on the duck’s foot. Every duck bag since has one foot left loose.

In the morning, there was a little white duck on the kitchen table. Round body. Yellow bill. Two yellow wings. And one yellow foot that Delphine had left hanging loose on purpose.

She put Libby’s lunch money inside, zipped it shut and hung it over her shoulder.

“I told her: that duck holds your lunch money. And when you get scared, you hold its foot.”

Libby walked into school with one hand on that foot. She didn’t cry once. By Friday, three mothers were standing in Delphine’s shop. Every one of them wanted the same duck.

Libby is 22 now. She teaches second grade. The first duck bag still hangs on the hook behind her desk, and when a new child is scared on the first day, she lets them hold its foot.

A shop on Main Street and more than 5,000 ducks

Delphine sewing a duck bag on her old sewing machine
The back room of Corliss Bags & Notions. One window, one sewing machine. About three hours of work go into every duck.

Stuttgart, Arkansas, is a small rice town. Every fall, huge flocks of wild ducks come down onto the flooded fields, and hunters drive in from all over the country. The town calls itself the Duck Capital of the World.

Delphine has lived here all her life. In 1982, her husband Clifton bought her a used sewing machine, and she opened a little shop on Main Street. Purses, repairs, new zippers. She still sews on that same machine today.

After that first August, the duck bags took over the back room. Delphine has sewn more than 5,000 of them. Each one takes her about three hours. The head alone takes a full hour, because she sews it on by hand.

“Hunters come to Stuttgart for the ducks. Their wives and their granddaughters came to my shop for the other kind.”

What 5,000 ducks taught her about a little bag

The duck bag next to a phone, wallet, keys and lipstick
Phone, wallet, keys and a lipstick. Most people say the same thing when they open it: “It holds more than I thought.”

Delphine never planned to become “the duck lady.” But after 17 years, she has an opinion about every little detail.

  • “The Worry Foot”: One foot always hangs loose. Children hold it when they are nervous. Grown women turn it between their fingers while they wait at the doctor’s office. “Every duck I ever made has one foot loose. That’s Libby’s foot.”
  • “The Hooded Head”: The round little head sits over the top of the bag like a hood. It keeps its shape for years and covers the zipper, so nothing gets caught.
  • “The Clamshell Zipper”: The zipper runs all the way around the body, so the duck opens wide like a shell. A phone, a wallet and keys go in. Nothing falls out. The strap clips off with two little gold hooks and can be made longer or shorter.
  • “The Rain-Day Coat”: The soft, pebbled vegan leather wipes clean with a damp cloth. “Kids drop it in puddles. Grandmas spill coffee on it. It wipes off like water off a duck’s back.”

Three generations of girls, one little duck

A grandmother and granddaughter wearing matching duck bags
In Stuttgart, it is not unusual to see a grandmother and her granddaughter wearing the same duck.

Over the years, the duck bags have walked into kindergartens, church picnics and birthday parties all over town. Some of the girls who got one in 2009 now buy one for their own daughters.

And the grandmothers? Delphine laughs. At first, they bought the duck for a granddaughter. Then many of them came back a week later and quietly bought one for themselves.

“They’d say it was a spare. Then I’d see them at church with it on their arm.”

The morning her thumb said no

Delphine sewing the head of a duck bag on by hand
The head of every duck is sewn on by hand, one push of the needle at a time. That is the one thing Delphine can’t do anymore.

What Delphine will miss most are the Augusts. The shop full of mothers. The little girls trying the ducks on in front of the mirror. The bell over the door that never seemed to stop.

Last winter, the arthritis in her right thumb got much worse. She can still run the machine. But the head of each duck has to be pushed through the thick material by hand, with a needle, stitch after stitch. Her thumb won’t do it anymore.

“The machine still runs fine. It’s my thumb that quit.”

This fall, Delphine sewed on her last duck head. There is no one to take over the shop. 186 duck bags are left in the back room. When they are gone, the shop on Main Street will close.

“A duck in a drawer doesn’t do anybody any good”

A grandmother hanging a duck bag over her granddaughter’s shoulder
On a child’s shoulder or a grandmother’s arm. That is where Delphine wants her last ducks to go.

This summer, two boutiques in Little Rock asked to buy all of her remaining duck bags. They offered almost twice what Delphine charges. She said no.

“They wanted them in a shop window. My ducks belong on a little girl’s shoulder on her first day of school. Or on her grandma’s arm.”

So Delphine is letting her last 186 ducks go for less than she has ever asked. She wants a grandmother to be able to buy one for every granddaughter she has, and maybe one for herself.

Delphine doesn’t own a computer. Libby took the photos at the shop on a Sunday afternoon and set up the page where you can order. She answers every email herself, in the evenings after school.

While supplies last: Delphine’s last 186 little white duck bags, at her special price.

See the Last Duck Bags

Check availability →

What people say about Delphine’s little ducks

  • ★★★★★

    “I bought it for my granddaughter’s first day of school and told her the story about the foot. She held it the whole way to the classroom door. I could have cried.”

    Patricia H., Jonesboro, AR
  • ★★★★★

    “I meant to give it away. I kept it. My phone, my wallet and my reading glasses all fit, and it’s bigger than it looks in the photos. Strangers smile at me at the grocery store.”

    Carol D., Tulsa, OK
  • ★★★★★

    “Well made, the zipper runs smoothly and the strap is easy to adjust. My granddaughter already got chocolate on it, and it wiped right off.”

    Brenda K., Springfield, MO

Three questions people ask before ordering

Where can I buy one of Delphine’s duck bags?

Only through this page. Delphine’s duck bags are not sold on Amazon, Temu or in any store.

How long will they be available?

Only while supplies last. Delphine has sewn her last duck head, and there are 186 bags left. Once they are gone, there will be no more.

What if it’s not right for me?

You have 30 days to try it at home. If you are not happy, just send a short email and you will get your money back. No questions, no hassle.

One little duck got Libby through her first day of school. One of Delphine’s last 186 can go to your granddaughter this Christmas — or stay with you.

Check Availability

Limited stock — only 186 left

More from grandmothers who bought one

  • ★★★★★

    “Ordered three, one for each granddaughter. They came well packed and the girls named them before I had even left the room.”

    Diane S., Hot Springs, AR
  • ★★★★★

    “I’m 74 and I wear mine to church every Sunday. The ladies all want to know where I got it. Now I know the story, I love it even more.”

    Shirley M., Memphis, TN
  • ★★★★★

    “My grandson is shy and wanted the duck too. He holds the foot in the car every morning. Thank you, Delphine.”

    Linda F., Little Rock, AR