“My thumbs won’t push a needle through four layers of fleece anymore. That’s the worst thing that’s happened to me in 32 years.” — Why a 73-year-old seamstress from Vermont is letting her last Christmas scarves go at a special price, before her thumbs make her stop for good.

On the second Saturday in December, Marjorie Tuttle takes an old white scarf off a hook next to her sewing machine. At one end sits a little snowman with a squashed black top hat. Two legs hang down from it. One of them still has a boot.

She puts it on, buttons her coat and walks down to Main Street. The Stowe Holiday Parade starts at ten. Marjorie has sewn for it for 32 years.

She is 73 now. She has lived in Stowe, a town of 4,300 people at the foot of Mount Mansfield, since 1976. In that time she has made about 2,600 Christmas scarves. Snowmen, Santas and gnomes. Never anything else.

“Three is plenty. Kids can only argue about three.”

The night before the parade in 1994

It was four degrees below zero that morning. Her son Danny was six, and he would not stand still in the parade line. Not for a minute.

The night before, Marjorie had an idea. She cut a snowman out of an old fleece sweater and sewed it onto the end of his scarf. Then she gave it two legs with little stuffed boots, so they would swing when he walked.

“I told him, now you’ve got a buddy walking with you. He marched the whole street and never stopped looking at those boots.”

The next December, eleven children from the grade school wanted one. The year after that, there was a line at her table.

The sewing room above the garage

Her workroom is above the garage. There is a woodstove, a radio and a window that looks out on Route 108. Baskets of soft fleece sit on every shelf. The buttons are kept in a mason jar.

One scarf takes her about six hours. The machine does the long seams. Everything else she sews by hand: the face, the hat, the coat buttons and the four little boots, each one filled with stuffing a pinch at a time.

“Too little and he looks like he lost his feet. Too much and the seam pops at the parade. Thirty-two years, and I still count the pinches.”

Each of her three figures came from her own family. The Snowman is Danny’s, from 1994. The Santa came in 2001, the year her husband Russell first rode the fire truck as Santa. The Gnome came in 2012, when her granddaughter Paige, then ten, decided Santa needed a helper.

What 32 parades taught her about a scarf

People who see one for the first time always laugh. Then they ask to try it on. Marjorie says there is a reason they don’t want to take it off again.

• “The Walking Boots”: Both ends finish in little legs with stuffed boots. They pull the ends down, so the scarf hangs straight and doesn’t blow around in the wind. And with every step, the legs walk along with you.
• “The 83-Inch Double Wrap”: The scarf is 83 inches long. Wrap it around your neck twice, and the boots still swing at your waist. “Long enough for a real Vermont coat,” Marjorie says.
• “The Teddy-Fleece Curl”: She uses soft teddy fleece instead of wool. It feels like a stuffed animal and doesn’t itch. “Nobody wants a scratchy neck at the parade,” she says.
• “The Coat-Button Panel”: The other end gets two wooden buttons and a trim like the hem of a coat. When you wear it, the head and the coat come together into one whole figure, walking down your front.

The one boot she will never replace

Danny’s scarf still hangs on its hook. The white has turned to cream. The top hat is pressed flat. One boot has been gone since 2003, when Danny lost it sledding behind the church.

“Everybody asks why I don’t sew him a new boot. Because that’s the one Danny lost. That’s the story.”

Forty minutes for one little boot

What Marjorie will miss most are the quiet winter mornings upstairs. The woodstove ticking. The radio on low. Snow on the window. A pile of little boots on the table, waiting for their legs.

In the spring of 2025, the arthritis in both of her thumbs got bad enough that she now sleeps with splints on them. The machine still runs. But a needle through four layers of fleece needs strength in the thumb, and that strength is gone.

“Last week I sat forty minutes over one little boot. It used to take me four.”

This fall she sewed her last scarf. 212 are left, Snowman, Santa and Gnome together. In January, her sewing machine goes to the sewing group at the Community Church.

“A scarf in a drawer is just a very long sock”

For 32 years, Marjorie sold every scarf at the parade for $20. All of the money went to the toy drive at the Stowe Fire Department.

For her last 212, she could ask twice as much. Nobody would blame her. She won’t.

“I don’t need the money. I need to know my snowmen are out there making somebody laugh this Christmas.”

She wants them on sidewalks, at tree lightings, on Christmas walks and on grandchildren pulling sleds. Not folded away in a closet.

Marjorie doesn’t use a computer. Every year, letters and calls came from people who had seen the parade once on vacation, from Connecticut, Ohio, even Texas. So in 2024, Paige, now a teacher in Burlington, set up the page where you can order today. She takes the photos on the porch railing. Russell cuts the boxes.

“Paige does the internet. I do the stuffing. Russell does the tape. Nobody touches my scissors.”

What people say about Marjorie’s scarves

• ★★★★★

  “I wore the snowman to my church’s Christmas fair and could not get ten steps without someone stopping me. So soft, and long enough to wrap twice over my winter coat.”

  Donna R., Concord, NH
• ★★★★★

  “Bought the Santa for my husband as a joke. He has worn it every single day since Thanksgiving. The little boots swinging make our grandkids laugh every time.”

  Sharon M., Erie, PA
• ★★★★★

  “Much better made than I expected. Sent the gnome to my sister in Florida, who has never needed a scarf in her life. She wears it to the beach parade anyway.”

  Kathleen B., Worcester, MA

Three questions people ask before ordering

Where can I buy one of Marjorie’s scarves?

Only through this page. Marjorie’s scarves are not sold on Amazon, Temu or in any store.

How long will they be available?

Only while supplies last. Marjorie has sewn her last scarf, and there are 212 left across all three figures. Once a figure is gone, it is gone for good.

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.

More from people who wear one

• ★★★★★

  “I’m 71 and I have a sensitive neck. Wool drives me crazy. This one is soft as a teddy bear and keeps me warm walking the dog in the snow.”

  Joyce T., Burlington, VT
• ★★★★★

  “Ordered all three for my daughters. They wore them together for my Christmas card photo. It’s the best card I have ever sent.”

  Linda F., Albany, NY
• ★★★★★

  “Arrived quickly and very nicely packed. The wooden buttons are a lovely touch. It looks even better in person than in the pictures.”

  Nancy W., Portland, ME