Generations of Inspiration

It is funny to think that a pair of scissors can define someone’s life and be such a poignant part of her development. In my house, a single pair of scissors represents three generations of creative, smart and driven women, all talented in a different area of the arts and all connected by one pair of sewing scissors. Our journey began when my grandmother, Esther, immigrated from Italy to New York City in 1929 with her mother. As an immigrant family, they had nothing but the shirts on their backs, a small apartment in Brooklyn and all the pots and pans they could carry. Esther’s father, Sevario, had traveled to America before his family to settle in, in hopes of becoming a chef in the land of opportunities. He practiced his art with his pots and pans and went out daily looking for jobs. Esther’s mother, Diamante, found a job sewing slip straps in a local factory to help support their growing family. Shortly after the couple had two sons, Sevario tragically passed away, leaving his wife and children behind with nothing and no one, in a foreign country.

Diamante was panic stricken, she had to provide for her children. To make ends meet, she would sneak boxes of slip straps home from the factory, sewing all night in order to make extra money for the family. The more straps she sewed, the more money she could take home at the end of each day. At a young age, Esther learned to sew to help her mother. The loss of her father was devastating for Esther, but she thrived in her new craft. She became passionate and gifted at sewing and was able to attend The Central High School of Needle Trades, a school created to teach the craft of sewing to immigrant workers during the New Deal. At school she honed her craft and met friends she would have for a lifetime. Upon graduating, she met a nice young soldier named Bill who just came home from WWII. They got married and moved to a beautiful town in Connecticut. With the love of her life, she started a family and her own sewing business that was run right out of her home. She made perfectly tailored dresses, suits, coats and anything her clients could dream up. She even made custom prom gowns for her daughter, Diane, and her friends. She taught Diane to sew and create and often sent her to the fabric store to choose appropriate thread colors for her creations. From her new skill of color matching threads, Diane became interested in colors, textures and art. Though sewing was not Diane’s passion, she gained inspiration and creativity from her mother, but her medium was painting. Esther supported her daughter’s love of art and painting until, sadly the American dream came to an end for her. Esther had developed Scarlet Fever as a child on the boat to Ellis Island, and it had gone untreated, leaving her with a weak heart. Her heart finally gave out at the age of Fifty. Every doctor did all they could for her, but alas it was not meant to be, she passed away during surgery. Her daughter was heartbroken.

While going through her mother’s things, Diane found her mother’s beloved scissors. She took the scissors with her, knowing what they meant to her mother and though she had trouble looking at them at first, they soon began to inspire her art. She spent hours painting portraits of the scissors. The scissors not only helped her create art but they helped her work through her grief. In time, she became a successful artist with several galleries representing her, one of which is in New York City, very close to where her mother went to school.

When I was a child, I was forlorn that I never was given the opportunity to get to know my grandmother. All I ever wanted to do was learn to sew. I always heard stories about how great she was at creating beautiful custom and tailored pieces and I couldn’t believe I was so unlucky as to be born after she had passed away. One day, I was playing in my room and attempting to cut the sheets on my bed up and turn them into some crazy costume creation, when my mother came in. I thought she would be furious about what I did to the sheets, but instead she said I was creative like my grandmother and driven to create like her too. She left the room for a moment and came back with her beloved scissors. She said it was my turn to try them out. Though, I never knew my grandmother, I felt like she lived on through those scissors. Her presence and inspiration were ever with me as I learned to sew. In college, I was a theatre major, and begged to work in the costume shop so I could finally learn to sew, like she did. I took the scissors with me and let them work their magic. From the first day in the costume shop, I knew what I loved to do. I became passionate about creating custom costumes for theatrical productions. To this day, I enjoy creating costumes for my own theatre company and those that I work with. My grandmother’s scissors have traveled the world with me. I take them to every Shakespearean Festival and every costume shop I work in. They even accompany me when I teach classes. It may seem silly, but I feel like my grandmother is helping me sew when I use her scissors. Often times I never got enough training to do what I was doing in the costume shop. Every time I had an issue with not understanding how to attach a sleeve or read a vintage pattern, I stopped, held her scissors and asked her advice. I do not know how or why, but the answers always came, and still do.

I could not imagine my life without her beloved scissors, nor could my mother. We often pass them back and forth and tell stories of our crafts. When I hold my scissors, I think of the artistic women who came before me who loved their crafts just as much as I do, and I continue to be inspired while I create.