I was lucky to go to middle school when they had classes like sewing, and wood shop. I wish I had been a book reader, but I wasn’t. I was maker. My mom and dad also stressed the importance of knowing how to make. The making process served as a way to entertain, and provide a basic means to take care of yourself.
My first sewing projects in school were a tote bag, and a skirt. I can remember shopping at the fabric store with my mom to get all the supplies. I was so excited. I remember wearing my skirt to school for the first time. I was at the bus stop waiting for the bus. One of my friends told me she could tell I had made my skirt. The fabric was an off white and blue gingham fabric. She pointed out that my lace hem was white. I should have used an off white lace. It hadn’t occurred to me. I was a little hurt, but tried to pretend I was fine with it.
Since then, I have embraced my flaws. I have never experienced perfection, and never will. The art of quilting has given me an outlet to celebrate all that is imperfect.
One thought on “Finding Myself Within Patterns”
That was really rude, and doesn’t it suck that you still remember it? When I was in middle school, a teacher (!) stopped me in the hall and told me I shouldn’t wear green eye shadow, as it was unbecoming. I’m aggravated I remember.