I remember walking to town with my Grandma, and I was the keeper of the feed sack to be matched. I proudly carried it over my arm, since it had been washed and ironed. I got to hunt for a match in the dusty store room in back while Grandma talked to her friends, who also sent kids in for a match. Then she would have one of my uncles to come and take it, and us home. After the cracked corn was out of the sack, it could be opened by grabbing one certain string and it almost unzipped itself. At that time there were no zippers, but it did open rapidly.
I still remember my very favorite one, it had little red feathers in it. And I got to wear it till I outgrew it and then was forced to give it to a younger cousin.
Sometimes feuds would break out when one woman with malice aforethought got the last of one pattern she knew her enemy wanted badly. Some times the catty talk got so bad little kids were sent home alone. Of course the older women wanted to hear all about it!!