Vision 20-20

Tonight, I am writing this to cheer myself up. I think today has been my lowest day since this endless 2020 began. However, I promise this is not a self-wallowing pity post because I think we are all a little defeated, sad and worried, so why do you need my slab of chocolate-coated, pity-party cake too? Well, of course you don't. So I decided I was going to write a celebration of my sewing journey, explore my achievements, gloss over my defeats and look forward to the future of myself, of my sewing and of this community.

So, I might as well start at the beginning, on another sad day. It starts sad, but I promise it gets happier. About 7-8 years ago, you would not have recognised my lack of sassiness, my absent passion, my love of ripe gifs had not yet been discovered. I was not good. I was fighting for my mind for nearly 2 years. I was in a very deep mental hole.

It was like I was in a well and I was looking up, seeing and hearing people who care about me, trying to help but they were just too far away. I left my job and I was struggling to find work. We did not have a lot of money at the time as we were saving for a house and I had an interview lined up but of course I didn't have the money for a shirt. We lived in an area, where there were 5 charity shops, all in a sparkling row. I was much thinner at the time, having lost a lot of weight the year before. However, I went into every charity shop and I could not find anything that fit. My chest pushing the button planket apart, or the biceps so tight I could have exploded out of the shirt Bruce Banner style, or the wrong colour. I came out of the shops utterly defeated and feeling like I was worthless and thinking about cancelling my interview. I had a little cry outside the local Tesco, scraping my shoe to try and dislodge discarded soggy chips and curry coating the underside of my threadbare shoes, the sole was starting to get that bubble of impending failure, the food left as if by providence to make my day even crappier. Then a thought...a whisper of a thought...surely it would be easier to make my own? Cheaper too. Oh, how I laugh at my naivety now. In that willow o' wisp moment, I was thinking back to my mum, when I was very small, sewing for car boot sales, making soft pink satin heart pillows and scented bags, topped with fabric flowers and satin ribbon. The scent of those bags hung up in my wardrobe for many years, I used to enjoy squeezing the scent back to life. My mum probably only sewed for a few months but I remember the pastel green tinge of the machine and the heaviness of the mostly metal sewing machine, the soft hum of the motor and the fascination watching that needle move up and down, seeming to create magic. On that day, that memory became a resolution. I swore that when I got steady work, I would learn, by golly gosh, I would never be without clothes I needed again.

I must have gone on about this for my many months, before my awesome mother in law offered the use of her sewing machine. I used a pack of fat quarters for my first craft projects. I thought I was the bees knees. I actually threw some of those early makes out the other day. I can attest that they were, in fact, pretty shit. However, the surge of excitement and achievement was heady. After fighting back the darkness that had consumed me for such a long time, this machine and scrap of fabric forming a shape from my hands... that was pretty amazing stuff. Addictive.

I will not say that sewing brought me my mental health back, no, but I found it as I was starting to emerge and its been part of a larger journey that I am on. I will always be on. However it is a tool in my armoury and a pretty big one.

After a few months of monopolising the sewing machine, MIL needed it back and I felt bereft. Immediately, my thoughts turned to getting my hand on a decent second hand one. Alas, MIL whispers, Christmas is coming and plans are afoot. I worried how much BF was going to spend as we had just bought our house. And, what did he know about sewing machines? So what did I receive on that Christmas morn....

Are you ready?

BF slammed it into the net. "Ruby" came into my life. Isn't she just BEAUTIFUL? She is still in my life, giving me joy today. She is now my travelling machine and I have another machine that stays at home. Ruby is definitely not a cheap and cheerful companion but she has never let me down. Done everything I have ever thrown at her and I see no need to replace her anytime soon.

That christmas I was happier than

So that christmas, MIL said that she would help me with my very first sewing pattern.

She bought round a selection of patterns and I chose a skirt pattern by Prima patterns. Nowt wrong with a Prima pattern, guys, most of my most early successful makes were a Prima pattern. The next week, we went to Bury market and I choose my first fabric. I remember staring at the stall, with a little knot of excitement but I choose hurriedly as my fingers were numb from the cold. I knew I was going to be SOOO good at this. Spoilers..... I wasn't. I didn't bind the seams, the stitching was wonky, it took my three weeks, the material I choose was more slippy than a hairless cat at a baby oil convention, but it was mine. And to me, it was beautiful. It was the best skirt ever created. I wore that skirt until it literally fell apart. Unfortuately no pictures as I did not tend to document things as I do now. Then I chickened out. I carried on for a few months, making crafts

EMO CHICKEN!!!

My birthday approached and I was gifted some sewing lessons. In preparedness I decided that it was high time I had another go at garment making, this time on my own.

Erm....well, it wasn't very successful. I laughed at it at the time and I laugh at it now. It was horrible. But after some sewing lessons with the wonderful Emmy. I was able to do a burda magazine pattern, increase the size and work with satin.

Alas, I never wore it and the construction is still a bit shit but that's it. I was hooked.

Nowadays I have found that I have plateaued on my construction skills, so I am going back to basics and slowing down. Learning adjustments, fit, enjoying the process.

Personally, I have found diving back into my old makes rather soothing. Things were bad, I worked and got better. Sewing, ultimately, helped me reclaim my voice. I used to write but the depression robbed me of that. I have found my way back a bit via this blog. I hope I can, one day, finish that novel I started. Sewing helped me find friends and my community where depression isolated me from many and sewing has helped me challenge myself not only in skill but comfort level. A few years ago I would never have started this blog, never mind get on a camera and do YouTube. I started this blog at the start of lockdown and I might not have done that without this events of this year.

Going forward....continue to explore, to play, to communicate, to expand my world. 2020 is nearly over but just like a bad make, it isn't forever.

At this point, I would like to ask you, friends, what would you like to see more of? Is there a topic you would like me to explore in the upcoming year?