Chapter 39

LINDA: We may have mentioned a time or two that Mother hated sewing but had to do a lot of it when we were young.  Well, these two apples didn’t fall far from that tree.

My first experience with sewing was in home economics in high school.  Oh, we had made a few feeble attempts at making clothes for our dolls, but believe me, no self-respecting doll would have worn any of it! (We had better luck with paper dolls — no needles required.)

I once got a little sewing machine for Christmas and tried my hand at those ill-fated doll clothes, but I eventually gave it away to a younger cousin who was probably better at it than me. In my senior year of high school, every girl had to make a lined wool suit, presumably for job hunting when we graduated.  I was terrified. I chose the simplest pattern I could — a “jewel” neckline (meaning no collar), sleeves without cuffs, and a skirt with no waistband. Ha! I was home free.  We started our projects in January and were supposed to wear our final result at a “fashion show” in the spring.

I chose a cream and beige heather wool, fairly lightweight to make it easier to sew. I had to rip out nearly every seam I sewed (especially armholes and neckline) at least once, and the interior lining always seemed to be bigger than the exterior. Go figure. The real bugger was the zipper. I’ve only had to put in a zipper once or twice in my life, and I will never do it again. Trickier than you might think.

Anyway, I worked on that damn thing all winter and spring. Unfortunately, when I started it, I was one size, and when I finished it, I was another. Due to another sickly winter, I had lost about 10 pounds. The thing hung on me like a sack.  I had to pin the waistband to keep from losing my skirt as I timidly strolled across the stage. The shoulders were too big and the sleeves nearly covered my hands.  What a sight!

I never wore it once after that.

CINDY: Just like Linda, I had to make a dress when I was in my senior year of high school. Just like Linda, it took me months to make that damn dress. It was an empire waist, powder blue, cotton dress with long sleeves and (thankfully) no collar. It was a disaster. I ripped the skirt from the bodice so many times that when it was time for the fashion show (Lord just take me now) the two pieces barely held together and there were numerous holes where the fabric had just plain given up. Mother was getting me ready backstage to go out. I had a blue ribbon for my hair, which she jerked off and tied around the seam where the skirt tried to hold onto the bodice. There wasn’t enough ribbon to tie it in a bow, so she took off one of her pearl clip-on earrings and fastened it over the knot. Classic Mother move.

LINDA: After I was married and the budget was tight, I decided to try my hand at sewing again. (OK, I’m a slow learner.)  I got a sewing machine for Christmas one year and set about making bright cotton curtains and a comforter for our son’s first big-boy bed. Straight lines I could muster.

Then, a year or two later, I decided to make my husband a robe for Christmas.  A nice thick terrycloth one. What a mistake. I struggled with it for months!  Finaly finished it, belt and belt loops and all. The first time he wore it, he started sweating profusely. “It’s really warm,” he remarked. Then untied the sash. Then opened the front and gasped for cool air. It was not the success I had imagined.

After that, I only attempted to make one nice thing: a summer-weight suit (no lining) to wear on an airplane trip back to Minnesota. That’s back when we dressed up for plane trips.  I bought a rust polyester fabric that seemed like it would be easy to sew. I made a skirt and jacket. They turned out pretty good, and the jacket covered the botched zipper effort. When I went to put it on for the trip home, I felt something sharp in the patch pocket on the jacket. I tugged and pulled until I slid out a bright greenish-yellow bird feather!  It was the perfect match for Mother’s bird — in Minnesota, where the suit had never been! A mystery to this day.

I later gave the machine away and quit trying altogether. Sewing was as much a mystery to me as that feather.

CINDY: My next attempt at sewing involved making a kuspuk (Eskimo overcoat or overshirt with a hood) for my four-year-old son, Sage. I made it out of green wool with a hood that had a rabbit fur lining. It turned out great. I was so proud of it, until I went to put it on him and realized I didn’t make the hole for his head large enough. (Nice one, Cindy.) I did manage to figure out a way to make the hole larger, but that was my last attempt at sewing.

We inherited a lot from our Mother.