Hello! Happy Friday! I’m still working on some other essays, but in the meantime to get me back into the writing groove I’m doing a few of these writing prompts for July as the mood strikes me. The prompt for yesterday was “tradition” and this is what I thought about when I read the prompt….

Family traditions are strange and nostalgic and comforting all at the same time. And tradition can take any sort of form you like. It can be making Christmas cookies, taking a family summer trip to the beach, or even stopping for a favorite sour-sweet gummy snack. Tradition makes you remember the past as well as create a memory for the future. It prompts little snippets of remembrance from the back of your brain to go from hazy watercolors to bright, clearly focused snapshots. And as silly as it sounds one of the things that has been a tradition in my family for generations is sewing. I had someone compliment my skirt today and I smiled and said thank you and of course, conversation flowed to how hard it was to find a good long skirt and I said that’s when you just sew what you want.  Many times when someone finds out I made something I’m wearing it gets a wide-eyed stare and an exclamation of, “really?!? I can’t even thread a needle!” But sewing for both sides of my family was just something that was done by the women and even some of the men. Two of my great uncles and their wives were commercial upholsterers with their own businesses. One of my great grandmothers started a home-based business of hand quilting quilt tops for people through the mail. My grandmother and one of her sisters-in-law worked in a garment factory in Houston, MS.  My aunt worked as a sewer in a chair factory in Houston, MS. My mom grew up sewing too. So it was completely normal to me to see someone take a length of cloth, a pair of scissors, and a pattern and make a garment. 

I know today that sewing is something that a lot of people haven’t been exposed to and are very intimidated with even knowing where to start but for my family, it was simply a part of growing up. Sewing wasn’t a big deal. It was a skill that everyone either learned at home or through home ec classes in school.  It was a traditional skill that was passed down from mother to daughter like learning how to cook or clean. My Granny who lived next door would take me shopping as a very little girl for fabric and patterns. I can remember her sitting me on a stool in the fabric department and pulling the Simplicity book over for us to look at and pick out a pattern. Granny wasn’t a fan of McCalls or Butterick and it was an early lesson of learning how to look at a garment drawing and know what was simple and what wasn’t. I still do what my grandmother did when I have a question about a pattern, which is to take the pattern instructions out of the envelope (in the store of course) give them a quick glance over, and many times that confirms whether or not I want to buy it. Now more often than not I do like Aunt Thelma and draft a new pattern from an existing pattern I already have and just change some of the design features or I trace and clone something already in my closet.   

My great-grandmother taught me how to hand sew when I was around 5 or so.  I was terrible.  My stitches were too big and awkward and uneven. The little pillows and clothes I made for my Barbies often looked like a tiny little drunk person had made them but MaPep praised me all the same and told me what a good job I had done and pointed out what I could do better next time. She always encouraged me to try and do better. At thirteen I decided to ask for a sewing machine for my birthday. My mom being the good mom she is went down to the local pawn shop and purchased a Singer Stylemate sewing machine for $30 bucks.  It was simple, basic, all mechanical, and perfect for someone that you don’t know is going to actually stick with something or put it in a closet in a month and never touch it again. Needless to say that present from 27 years ago was a pretty good purchase. I don’t have that particular sewing machine anymore as it had an issue that couldn’t be fixed because they didn’t make the parts for it anymore but I do have the Kenmore machine from Sears my Granny bought to replace it in April of 2000. As well as a 1948 Singer model 99, a 1960s Rockford (which is a clone of a Singer model 15), Kenmore serger, Brother embroidery machine, and an Elna Supermatic that belonged to my Granny. I’ve made prom dresses, formal dresses, skirts, shirts, jackets, purses, quilts, blankets, baby clothes, a superman cape, a cinderella costume, a tractor seat cover, hemmed pants, and blue jeans, and the list goes on and on. I’ve also patched and repaired so many pairs of jeans for JJ since we got married. Thank goodness for MaPep who showed me how to patch jeans. She showed me how to make my own patches and then sew them in by hand because most home machines do not handle thick layers of denim very well and I can sew them in by hand to where they will blend in with the fabric and not stand out. Once I get done you can barely even tell the jeans were patched. Sewing patches on jeans always makes me remember MaPep talking about how she would patch jeans for PawPep and Uncle Allen when he was growing up. She would tell me about her life when she was young and how hard they had to work just to get by every day. When I’m sewing in a patch I can almost hear her in my ear coaching me along, is that weird? Probably so. 

This tradition of sewing is at the forefront of my mind so many times when I’m working on a project. From the way I pin a pattern down to the way I handle finishing seams and hems. Something at simple as sewing in hem tape brings forward such a vivid memory for me. This tradition also connects me to my past and is allowing me to create memories with my daughter similar to the ones I shared with my grandmother and great-grandmother. I’ve made two easter dresses for Allie, allowing her to pick out her fabric and design. Both dresses she has loved and that more than anything makes me so happy. I don’t know if she’ll ever want to pick up sewing as I did, but I’ll be glad to teach her if or when the occasion arises.  And if not, oh well, I’ll continue to sew for her. 

Traditions bind us to the past, present, and future. Webster’s dictionary defines tradition as, “the handing down of information, beliefs, and customs by word of mouth or by example from one generation to another without written instruction.” This is so true, and I guess it is why I also write about many of the things I do. I write about the things that interest me, but also about memories I don’t want to forget. There are also so many stories I want my daughter to have to read later and maybe gain a better understanding of her weird mom. And as for me continuing the family tradition of sewing, I don’t see myself stopping any time soon.