I’ve been sewing since I was a kid. As I approach 50, my memory certainly isn’t what it used to be, but as far as I can recall, my first sewing project was a small pink floral pillow that I hand stitched and filled with lumpy bits of stuffing I commandeered from around the house. Later, I found a stash of fabric and patterns in a hall closet and asked my mom if I could make something.
I was about 10 or 11, so we’re talking 1983 or so. I cut and threaded and created a filmy shirt with a zig zag hem using a pattern from the 60’s. I remember wearing that shirt out to a family dinner out and feeling very chic. In retrospect, I can only imagine what those hand sewn seams and hemlines actually looked like. In that moment, I saw myself a paragon of fashion and style, trying to catch stranger’s eyes to see a gleam of appreciation in their eyes.
My parents always supported by creative endeavors by supplying me with crayons, books, crafts kits and educational subsctiptions, all kinds of paper (construction paper, adding machine tape, stacks of dot matrix paper with the little holes along the side), glue, a guitar, and, one Christmas, a heavy old metal sewing machine. I recently learned from my mother that my dad picked up the sewing machine at an El Reno pawn shop – and why not? The guitar they’d given me a Christmas or two before sat unplayed (and continued to sit unused for ten more years until I finally gave it away).
I began sewing as best I could. Keep in mind I was on my own – no internet, no YouTube tutorials – just me and the somewhat incomprehensible directions on the patterns we had. Even so, I stuck with it and slowly got better. Good enough that my dad bought me a new sewing machine. I sewed for my family and friends and sewed into the night until my neck and shoulders ached.
When I was 15, my paternal grandmother (“Granny”) died, and we made the long trek from Oklahoma to Michigan. There, my Papaw gave me Granny’s Viking 980 sewing machine. Granny had loved Barbie dolls and sewed the most intricate, beautiful Barbie clothes you’ve ever seen. We looked forward to packages from her filled with dolls and brand new high-fashion clothes you could not find in stores.
Later, my maternal grandmother (“Grandma”) came to visit and taught me how to sew. The method she used is a method I stand by today as I begin my 19th year of teaching: coaching while doing. She and I sewed a shirt together. It had a yoke, a collar, set-in sleeves, cuffs, and a buttoned fly-away detail on the back. She walked me through reading and interpreting the pattern, buying good thread, demystifying what the heck interfacing is used for and how, cutting, marking, and sewing the shirt.
After that, my projects reached a level of quality that resulted in some paid commissions for sparkly rodeo shirts and formal wear. For me, my mom, and my sister, I made shirts, dresses, suits, pants, shorts, jackets, vests (it was the 80’s!), and accessories.
This summer, my mother sent me a package with a few pieces of fabric in it – dachshunds, Frida Kahlo, owls, all things I like. That little package pushed me to find the Viking, its accessories, and to finally set up the sewing station (using my Granny’s little desk) I had planned for my craft room….all this after almost six years in this house.
It’s been a welcome and needed respite from the CO-VOID where I’ve been losing blocks of time wondering about the state of our modern world. Instead of checking, rechecking, and checking the news again, I’m transforming fabric into things that are pretty and practical. They’re starting to pile up, so I’m listing some for sale on Etsy. Maybe they’ll sell, maybe they won’t. The investment in me and my creativity and capability is paying massive dividends when it comes to my mental health.
I can’t help but marvel at how my cup runneth over as I sew on my Granny’s machine using the skills my Grandma taught me over 30 years ago and fabric my mom picked out just for me.
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