I've tried many, many other times to learn to sew, but it's never "clicked" for me. For some reason, this time I was serious about it and I've been learning the basics in a slow, methodical way. I started with an apron about a month ago:
Seemingly easy; just a rectangle, right? Well, no! For me, the biggest hurdle (and the reason I could never get into sewing before) was just learning about the machine. Sewing machines can be daunting; they're expensive, heavy, and confusing. It took me an embarrassingly long time just to learn how to wind the bobbin. Even after you learn how to set the machine up, there's the matter of decoding commercial sewing patterns. You'd think they'd be simple, but if you have no idea where to begin, it's like they're written in a different language. I would've given up if I hadn't had my mom around to explain what "baste," "gather," and "blind stitch" meant.
Before I sat down at the machine this go-round, I told myself that this was it. Now or never. I was going to conquer this thing, no ifs, ands, or pouting. My mom walked me through the machine's basic functions and then scurried off to garden or bake a commissioned cake or something. I painstakingly stiched white bias tape onto a pocket. The fabric kept slipping and it was so difficult, but I told myself I couldn't give up. I had to keep doing this even if it killed me, and I was starting to think that it might.
After a tedious hour and a half, my mom came inside and told me I didn't have the presser foot down, which was why my fabric wouldn't stay put. I didn't even know what a presser foot was. Needless to say, I've come a long way in a month.
What I love most about sewing is the deep feeling of connection it gives me not just to the women in my family, but to women throughout history. One of my biggest annoyances in life is people who persist on labeling sewing, knitting, crocheting, or any type of needlework as "anti-feminist" or in some way a step backwards. Debbie Stoller (editor of Bust) effectively counters this in the introduction to her excellent knitting book Stitch 'n Bitch. She explains that domestic arts like embroidery were often the only way stifled women had of expressing themselves; playing with color and pattern were outlets for creativity, not always a necessary chore. In addition to this, she points out that knitting is often looked down upon precisely because it's primarily a hobby for females. Traditional "men's" hobbies (like, for example, fishing) don't have the same stigma. The fact is, many women enjoy these hobbies. We don't need to look at them as trivial ways to pass the time or as a way we allow ourselves to be subjugated. I'm certainly feeling much more powerful just knowing that I'll be able to make several new pieces of clothing.
Here are some of the other things I've made. Definitely nothing spectacular yet, but I'm trying to progress at a natural pace and not attempt anything too difficult before I'm ready. I know how stubborn and easily frustrated I am, and I don't want to burn out.
I made curtains to replace the ugly, dark green lace valances that came with the apartment. I just wish I'd done this sooner.
Also I made this turtle out of a pattern my mom had from the 1970s. I appreciate the attention to anatomical detail.
Last week I completed a pair of PJ pants that I haven't photographed yet, and I'm currently working on a skirt and a quilt (actually, I've been working on this quilt since the SECOND GRADE. Um...yeah). On deck are curtains for my bedroom, another pair of PJ pants, drafting a pattern for PJ shorts, and a really lovely blouse.
