Diana Magnus

Holding Hands

Holding Hands A DIY Story By Diana Magnus As a child I often fell asleep to the sound of my mother’s sewing machine. Its repeating whir was soothing and in a strange way, reassuring. This happened so often that as long as that machine whirred, everything was right in the world. My mother would create the most beautiful clothes: navy silk pleated blouses, bright pink wool pencil skirts, complicated blazers and perfectly tailored linen pants. Like magic.