So many of our artist statements begin with heartfelt stories of our grandmothers, mothers, aunts or neighbors who taught us to sew. And many of us offer lectures that begin with our family heritage connected with our sewing journey. Our grandmothers grew up during the depression and sewed with bits of scraps, darned socks to keep warm. Our mothers loved playing with fabric, laying out patterns, finishing a dress for prom or graduation.
But not my grandmother or mother. No, they had other interests and thought I was a bit of a pest. Truth be told, my sewing heritage does actually begin with my grandmother but not in a homey sort of way. She had a sewing machine that I never saw her use. She probably did use it to mend occasionally but I think she didn’t like any sewing machine very much. I begged her to teach me to use it. It was an old Kenmore that I still have to this day. Shortly before my 10th birthday, she taught me to thread the machine and wind the bobbin and then she admonished me to keep my finger away from the needle and I was on my own.
I made a baby blue gingham dress. Then a mod mini skirt with belt loops, a fancy zipper and lining. It was a heady feeling knowing I could make what I wanted. Each finish gave me more confidence for the next project and to try new skills. I taught myself to crochet and knit and embroider. And then in high school, I made a quilt for each of my four brothers. Nearly 50 years later, my studio is still my happy place.
After I learned to sew my grandmother asked me to sew for her. At first, she would bring me store bought dresses to adjust. She wanted a lower neckline or shorter sleeves. Then she started bringing me yards of fabric. She worked at a thrift store and would pick up calicos and ginghams. She liked all cotton and she only ever wanted one design – a simple summer sleeveless shift. Sometimes I would embroider the front or add a collar.
She lived to be almost 100. When she died, I found this old yardage in her things. I love that it still has the thrift store price tag. I love that it’s only 36” wide and that it is exactly the amount of yardage needed for one of her dresses. I’ve been keeping it for a special occasion. Despite the fact that we never bonded over sewing, I’m forever grateful that she did trust me not to sew through my finger.
I too loved the honesty of this story. It makes me know your grandmother a little bit. And — it’s so funny how skills or interests skip generations or pop up out of seemingly no where.
But was it “nowhere?” That Kenmore was sitting there, after all!
Susan, I love the tenderness and honesty in your writing. Family isn’t always the place to learn from others, instead it could become quickly a chore or point of diversion. My mother was a trained seamstress. She basically sewed anything needed for family or farm. She did NOT teach me anything sewing purposefully but recognized at a later point that my patience for “reverse sewing” or copying patterns was valuable. These small tasks made me feel special and I learned much from just hanging out there: the lingo, about fabric and patterns, – a good foundation to teach myself later on. Needless to say, I’m still sewing, every day.
My mother was more the instructor. Her biggest gift to me was “Read the instructions.” It helped me become a better teacher. My Grandmother taught me a crochet stitch or two and I sewed some dresses on her old treadle.
My mother had an old Kenmore machine, and she loved and hated it. She sewed clothes for 6 daughters on that machine, with lots of frustration. I enjoyed your story.
I didn’t know my grandmothers but learnt to sew at any early age from my mum. We both took up quilting at the same time and shared going to exhibitions and club meetings together
Susan, we have both lived this story – the same but different. I loved reading your post and connecting with your focus to create. My mother’s sewing machine was rarely used and I will have it one day when I get to Alabama to retrieve it from my sister (who also does not sew).