Sewing Was Stitched To My Soul

Thread, fabric, patterns, pins, sharp scissors and buttons have comprised the fundamental elements of my life. My earliest memories involve something sewing related. My sister, who is 8 years older than me, was always sewing something. My Aunt Helen had the typical fabric obsessed sewing house. Piles of fabric and projects. I loved the pajamas she would make for us. The mittens she knitted for us were my favorites throughout my life. My Mom was a good sewist. She mended things and was good at fitting. She really didn't like to sew all that much but she was good at technical assistance. 

I absolutely adored her button box and was fascinated by the archival quality of the buttons. Colors, ages, shapes and leftovers from so many garments or projects. I have the significant ones in a tin box just like she kept them in. Sifting through them was a tactile experience filled with imagination and family history. I would look until I found my favorites, the huge glass one that I imagined was impressive diamond, and of course the ones that I could repeatedly ask about where they came from so I could hear the story again.

One of the stories that was told over and over was how my sister started sewing by making doll clothes. She just cut them out and hand stitched them together. It seemed like a good idea to me. 

When I had mastered good scissor cutting I set out to bring those ideas in my head to life. There were always scraps of fabric, wooden spools of extra thread and lots of trim around to use. 

We, who sew, under estimate the wonderful transferable skills that we have learned from sewing. Here is where my inner teacher kicks into gear. I recall that it was a lesson about turning a 2 dimensional media into something that would fit a 3 dimensional object. It was also a trial run in scale and proportion. My stitches were too far apart and gaped. It was a definite fundamental lesson in spatial skills, pattern drafting and construction. In other words, it was a great learning experience. It was a mess. That doll didn't care she wore it anyway. 

To be continued...