A general call was emailed to the entire faculty from the adviser of the art club asking if anyone knew how to fix a sewing machine. Having some knowledge, I emailed her back saying I’d walk over to her classroom and take a look. Upon inspection it was immediately evident that the machine had not been threaded properly. If a sewing machine is not threaded exactly as it should be, the thread will become hopelessly entangled and the machine will jam and stop working. I rethreaded the machine according to the diagram printed on the bobbin cover, took a few practice runs on a scrap piece of material, and reported to the adviser that she was all set. I explained about the importance of threading the machine correctly and, as far as I know, she hasn’t had any further problems.
At home, I explained to my prime mate what I had done. He asked, “Do people still sew?” I was taken aback and thought, of course people still sew. But then paused to wonder... do they? As I pondered my internal question, I realized that my daughter doesn’t. I think I may have taken a stab at showing her how to sew using a toy machine, but the memory is hazy. Maybe she knows how to sew on a button. But she certainly doesn’t know how to put in a zipper.
The question of sewing as a possible lost craft got me to thinking about how I learned and how important handmade clothes had been in my raising. Both my Grandma Anderson and my mother had consummate abilities. They were both seamstresses—a title reserved for only the most accomplished. Whereas Grandma was self taught, Mom continued to hone her skills for decades by taking night classes. I still wear a beautifully crafted fully lined jacket she made, and get compliments every time I don it. But Mom wasn’t much on passing along knowledge. So it was Grandma who taught me everything I know.
Handmade clothing made up the better part of my wardrobe until I started college. Grandma made Christmas and Easter dresses for my sister Susan and me each year; Mom made everyday dresses, skirts, and slacks. It wasn’t until my sixth grade year when she made me two pairs of slacks out of the leftover material she’d used to make sofa pillows (enormous 70s-style flower printed corduroy) that I began to get a bit cranky about all this handmade business. I was teased mercilessly over those corduroys, but all I would say to Mom was that I didn’t want to wear handmade clothes anymore. She was not so easily deterred, however, and began taking me with her to pick out both the patterns and the material. As a ninth grader, my favorite was a dress she made in an A-line style out of seersucker, printed with tiny purple flowers. She made it really short, as was the style, and I wore purple stockings with it. I loved the flared cap sleeves that were trimmed in matching purple rickrack. It was at this point that I began to start making my own clothes.
Throughout high school, my handmade clothes gave me a unique style. After moving to Florida as a sixteen-year-old, my first job was at Cloth World where I could use my employee discount and get first dibs on expensive cloth that was going on sale. Sometimes my boss gave me the last remnant of a bolt. Quiana was the the most popular fabric of the time and was very easy to work with. I was even hired to make prom dresses for a couple of friends. But, I never achieved seamstress status—my seams were often sloppy, and many times I had to rip pieces apart and start over. But I got by and, for the most part, could follow the instructions of a pattern.
Grandma and Mom, on the other hand, could fit and tailor a pattern so that the final outcome was customized precisely to the body. All of the bridesmaids dresses for my sister’s wedding were made by Grandma. Grandma had just enough of the moire satin fabric left to make a matching dress for my one-year-old daughter, Ariel. Over the year’s of Ariel's childhood, there were other handmade dresses that included embellishments with Mom’s newly acquired smocking skills. And what both Ariel and Aaron remember best are the elaborate Halloween costumes Mom made for them.
I mostly don’t sew anymore. The last two projects I did were t-shirt quilts for my grown children. But to answer my prime mate’s question, “Do people still sew?” I looked up a few stats and found that they do. There are still a wide range of manufacturers making machines for all manner of talent and needs, and by all accounts they’re still selling thousands every year. So, yes, my darling, people still sew.
Copyright DJ Anderson, 2016
Copyright DJ Anderson, 2016
