About 2 months ago my husband got the notion (pardon-the-pun) that a sewing machine might be something I'd like. (So, guess what the boys got me for Christmas?) Where he got the idea that I would like to sew is beyond me. Maybe it's because I have been bemoaning the fact that I have no real "hobby". I love to bake, but can you really call that a hobby? I mean, there's never anything to show for it. As soon as I create something, it's in someone's stomach.
I toyed with the idea of scrapbooking, but in all honesty, I could not imagine investing so much time and money into that hobby. Don't get me wrong. I think scrapbooking is beautiful. Maybe if I had started it when my boys were babies, I'd feel more enthusiastic. However, contemplating the arduous process of scrapbooking their baby photos and beyond is too overwhelming for this mind to fathom. Not to mention that for the way my creative juices flow, combined with my perfectionism, a lot more money would need to be dished out than either Wayne or I are willing to invest in the cool hobby of scrapbooking.
I guess Wayne thought that sewing would pique my interest, if nothing else, a sewing machine would provide me with a way to make repairs to existing clothing and other items that needed mending. I don't think he realized what a monster he was going to create when he brought that sewing machine into the house.
Sewing has now become an obsession of mine. I have had to put it on hold for the last week due to the fact that I ran out of a certain-colored thread that I need for the project that I'm working on. And I have decided to work on one thing at a time, not having 2 or 3 projects (which all create their own individual mess) on the go at once. So, I've finally obtained the colored thread that I need and I will be back with my beloved "Brother" (my machine is a Brother CE-5000) soon.
Within a day or two of receiving my machine, the boys and I went shopping for fabric. My intention was to start with something easy, in order to build my confidence. After all, I have not sewed since Grade 9 Home-ec class, which means I haven't sewed anything since 1987. Yes, folks, it's been a L-O-N-G time! Again, I will reiterate . . . what was my husband thinking?
Anyways, back to my shopping adventure of fear and trepidation.
I walked into the fabric store with my boys, pretending to know what it was that I was doing. Finding fabric. Well, that was the easy part. Finding a pattern. That wasn't so hard. But actually knowing what everything meant . . . that's where I had to "fake" it. I almost bought a copy of Sewing for Dummies. I consulted a clerk on sizing, since the boys are two different sizes. I wanted to buy a pattern that would accommodate both of their sizes, in order to save some $$. However, one son wanted one style, the other wanted another style, so I made the decision to buy them each their own pattern. For what, you ask? Pyjamas. Easy-Sew Pyjamas.
We picked suitable patterns, found our fabric and took it to get cut and measured. The cutting clerk asked to see my patterns, to ensure that the fabric chosen would be suitable for the pattern. Unfortunately, flannel fabric was not suitable for Ty's pattern choice. It was clearly written on the back of the pattern that flannel was not optimal fabric for this particular pattern. I guess I hadn't read that. Thankfully, I was able to convince Ty to use the same pattern as Mitchell. All was well.
While the clerk was cutting our fabric, there was a very young, sophisticated woman having her fabric cut and measured as well. She seemed to analyze my every move. She seemed to analyze my every word. She seemed to analyze my every ignorant question. She couldn't stop staring at me. At us. At that moment, as my fabric was being cut and measured, I seriously questioned what on earth I was doing in a fabric shop with two boys, aged 8 and 10, buying fabric for things that I have no idea how to create? Who was I to think that I could actually accomplish the goal of sewing them some pyjamas? Or making some receiving blankets? Or sewing the boys their very own aprons?
I almost left. But the reality set in that once the fabric was cut, I couldn't return it. The fabric had been cut. All of it. The fabric for the aprons. The fabric for the pyjamas. The fabric for the receiving blankets. Oh my. I was committed to these projects!
The boys and I continued on in our adventure at the store, looking for sewing notions and supplies. I purchased a set of sewing scissors, thread, elastic, and dressmaker pins. Buying the supplies was bringing some of the excitement back, but I was constantly running into the sophisticated sewer, as well as other women who apparently knew what they were doing.
I decided to buy a membership at the fabric store. Our city has very limited access to fabric stores, so the one I was currently in was basically my only option for future fabric purchases. And for a $20 membership I'd eventually recoup my membership fees by the savings I'd be blessed with along the way. That is, if this sewing hobby actually took off like Wayne hoped it would.
The boys' first experience in the fabric store was an exciting one for them. They had fun choosing the fabrics they wanted their items to be made out of. They had fun helping me coordinate fabrics for the receiving blankets. They were troopers in that store and only threw something once. However, the next time I was there they didn't fare so well; probably because I wasn't purchasing fabric with them in mind. Note to self: I will do everything in my power to avoid the fabric store if my boys are with me.
So, that's the story behind the beginning of my sewing hobby. While I was completely terrified upon leaving the store, and anxiously questioning what I'd gotten myself into, my husband's instincts were right on. I am now a sewing freak. I would sew for hours every day if I could. I haven't tackled all of my projects yet, but I will chronicle them on this blog and keep you posted on anything new I create. Hopefully I'll have time later today to post on my first project--aprons. Aprons I created without a pattern. Stupid? Maybe. Fun? Definitely.
I toyed with the idea of scrapbooking, but in all honesty, I could not imagine investing so much time and money into that hobby. Don't get me wrong. I think scrapbooking is beautiful. Maybe if I had started it when my boys were babies, I'd feel more enthusiastic. However, contemplating the arduous process of scrapbooking their baby photos and beyond is too overwhelming for this mind to fathom. Not to mention that for the way my creative juices flow, combined with my perfectionism, a lot more money would need to be dished out than either Wayne or I are willing to invest in the cool hobby of scrapbooking.
I guess Wayne thought that sewing would pique my interest, if nothing else, a sewing machine would provide me with a way to make repairs to existing clothing and other items that needed mending. I don't think he realized what a monster he was going to create when he brought that sewing machine into the house.
Sewing has now become an obsession of mine. I have had to put it on hold for the last week due to the fact that I ran out of a certain-colored thread that I need for the project that I'm working on. And I have decided to work on one thing at a time, not having 2 or 3 projects (which all create their own individual mess) on the go at once. So, I've finally obtained the colored thread that I need and I will be back with my beloved "Brother" (my machine is a Brother CE-5000) soon.
Within a day or two of receiving my machine, the boys and I went shopping for fabric. My intention was to start with something easy, in order to build my confidence. After all, I have not sewed since Grade 9 Home-ec class, which means I haven't sewed anything since 1987. Yes, folks, it's been a L-O-N-G time! Again, I will reiterate . . . what was my husband thinking?
Anyways, back to my shopping adventure of fear and trepidation.
I walked into the fabric store with my boys, pretending to know what it was that I was doing. Finding fabric. Well, that was the easy part. Finding a pattern. That wasn't so hard. But actually knowing what everything meant . . . that's where I had to "fake" it. I almost bought a copy of Sewing for Dummies. I consulted a clerk on sizing, since the boys are two different sizes. I wanted to buy a pattern that would accommodate both of their sizes, in order to save some $$. However, one son wanted one style, the other wanted another style, so I made the decision to buy them each their own pattern. For what, you ask? Pyjamas. Easy-Sew Pyjamas.
We picked suitable patterns, found our fabric and took it to get cut and measured. The cutting clerk asked to see my patterns, to ensure that the fabric chosen would be suitable for the pattern. Unfortunately, flannel fabric was not suitable for Ty's pattern choice. It was clearly written on the back of the pattern that flannel was not optimal fabric for this particular pattern. I guess I hadn't read that. Thankfully, I was able to convince Ty to use the same pattern as Mitchell. All was well.
While the clerk was cutting our fabric, there was a very young, sophisticated woman having her fabric cut and measured as well. She seemed to analyze my every move. She seemed to analyze my every word. She seemed to analyze my every ignorant question. She couldn't stop staring at me. At us. At that moment, as my fabric was being cut and measured, I seriously questioned what on earth I was doing in a fabric shop with two boys, aged 8 and 10, buying fabric for things that I have no idea how to create? Who was I to think that I could actually accomplish the goal of sewing them some pyjamas? Or making some receiving blankets? Or sewing the boys their very own aprons?
I almost left. But the reality set in that once the fabric was cut, I couldn't return it. The fabric had been cut. All of it. The fabric for the aprons. The fabric for the pyjamas. The fabric for the receiving blankets. Oh my. I was committed to these projects!
The boys and I continued on in our adventure at the store, looking for sewing notions and supplies. I purchased a set of sewing scissors, thread, elastic, and dressmaker pins. Buying the supplies was bringing some of the excitement back, but I was constantly running into the sophisticated sewer, as well as other women who apparently knew what they were doing.
I decided to buy a membership at the fabric store. Our city has very limited access to fabric stores, so the one I was currently in was basically my only option for future fabric purchases. And for a $20 membership I'd eventually recoup my membership fees by the savings I'd be blessed with along the way. That is, if this sewing hobby actually took off like Wayne hoped it would.
The boys' first experience in the fabric store was an exciting one for them. They had fun choosing the fabrics they wanted their items to be made out of. They had fun helping me coordinate fabrics for the receiving blankets. They were troopers in that store and only threw something once. However, the next time I was there they didn't fare so well; probably because I wasn't purchasing fabric with them in mind. Note to self: I will do everything in my power to avoid the fabric store if my boys are with me.
So, that's the story behind the beginning of my sewing hobby. While I was completely terrified upon leaving the store, and anxiously questioning what I'd gotten myself into, my husband's instincts were right on. I am now a sewing freak. I would sew for hours every day if I could. I haven't tackled all of my projects yet, but I will chronicle them on this blog and keep you posted on anything new I create. Hopefully I'll have time later today to post on my first project--aprons. Aprons I created without a pattern. Stupid? Maybe. Fun? Definitely.
Sew long y'all.
Hope you enjoy all your sewing, Kimmy! I, too, really enjoy it, but find that it does consume a lot of time so for now I've put that pretty much to the side. One day I'd like to get into it again but I know I'll need a better machine. Mine dates back to 1976 or so--pretty ancient but it's served it's purpose over the years. Have fun, and don't be intimidated by these so-called "sophisticated sewers"!
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