Sewing with Love

Sitting at the women’s workshop and looking at her designs, I felt a spark. The way she draped the dress over the table, looking for the tiniest detail of the colors and beading don't clash. She hand swen the dress, waiting for me to try it on. I waited patiently for her to finish. “Come here, my little angel” she would becken me and I let her help me put the dress on. “How does it feel?”

“It’s too big, grandma.” I would say and she laughed, hugging me in her arms. The dress she made was a 1950’s style dress with a sweetheart neckline and a checker pattern between yellow and brown. It was for my 3rd-grade play and I was the farm girl. It was the first time I knew she made all my dresses. I had never seen her make one before and I was intrigued by how graceful she looked while making it. She saw me watching her with my eyes glued to her hands. She held the fabric gently while weaving the thread up and down tieing them together. Suddenly, she put the materials down and pulled me closer to her.

I sat on her lap looking up at her. “What is it, Grandma?” I asked, feeling confused at the sudden shift in her body language. “Would you like to try?” she asked and I beamed with excitement as I nod my head. She smiles and opens the drawer beside her. She handed me a small blue square that looked like it had been sewn on many times before. It had many different color threads up and down its edges. The fabric was soft and smooth, she helped me lay it on top of the table where the sewing machine was. I watched her flip the lever and the needle moved up. She Let the fabric underneath it and flip the lever again, watching the needle snug the fabric in the process.

“Sweetheart, put your hands here so you don’t get hurt by the needle.” She told me and I did what she asked. Holding the fabric on opposite sides of where the needle was. The needle begin to move and we slowly moved the fabric to its rhythmic beat. It felt strange to me, like a tingle or some sort of vibration that I didn’t quite understand. Once we got to the edge of the fabric, I moved my hands away. It’s not that I didn’t like it, it's just that I wanted to understand why.

“Grandma, why do you make clothes?” I asked and she smiled. She begin to tell me a story of when she came over after world war II. How she had three different jobs to support herself, my mother, and my aunt. She learned most things by herself including sewing. She told me of all the people who paid her to remake, repair, or even design certain clothing for them to wear. She said during that time the job tile was called a seamstress. It was the kind of job that most women could get into. Back then it was for her to survive and find her place in the world.

Now it was something to enjoy and share with the people she loves. I shared that moment with her. A time in history I didn’t know about yet. Looking back if I had lived in the early 1900’s that would be the job I would do. Not because I’m a woman whose job choices would be limited, but because it’s a passion I would be experiencing again. Creating something with love from my hands just like my grandmother did for me.

In a way, I would be living the life she did. Teaching myself to sew or maybe my mother would teach me. I would create all different relationships with people who are humble, kind, and supportive. Sooner or later I would find people who needed repairs in clothing. Maybe even go to a fashion house or work in a clothing store that required sewing skills. Then I would own a little dress shop, and bring in all sorts of people who needed clothes but maybe even other types of fabric. Fabrics of any kind to create like blankets, suits, and baby or children's clothes. Designing anything would be possible during the 1900s. That spark I felt that day would turn into my passion and I would try to keep it alive. My grandmother had a life full of different encounters from people who were poor and had no clothes to wealthy people who wanted her services. She stayed true to herself, was humble, and showed kindness when there was none.

In modern times, if you want a career in fashion you have to go to a college that specializes in that field. Some can sell online but then you're not really called a seamstress anymore. Nowadays you don’t see people doing those kinds of things like my grandmother did. There are hardly any shops that create their own clothes.