We've had this duvet for 23 years. It used to be white. We got it from Conran and have loved it so much it's become very tattered. It holds memories from being (extremely poor) newlyweds to my children's birth to my mother's death. I started patching it she got sick. My mom was an expert seamstress, a fantastic cook and an accomplished knitter (amongst many other things).
The patching kept my hands busy, gave my mom something to comment and help me with and kept me warm when everything around me was cold and gray.
The patches started out from her patch-bag of fabrics and has grown to now encompass some of my own patches, some made from well loved clothes and others from "crafty" projects. I'm not an expert and I've been winging it without her around; sometimes adding a patch on top of a patch where a new hole has started to develop -- but I love it. I take it out on cold winter days or when I'm feeling sad or industrious and I add another patch or two. I heart it molto-mucho.