Sewing a creative life

Back at it in my Vineyard studio

Throughout my life I have dreamed of where and how I could live a creative life. Two recurring fantasies were to have a dedicated art studio and to live on Martha’s Vineyard. Both seemed impossible, yet here I am, an official full-time resident of Vineyard Haven for all of two years, and the happy occupant of a studio that is walking distance from home. Dreams can come true, even if it takes 45 years.

In this perfectly funky space that is my studio, all of my sewing, needlework, and painting/drawing supplies are stored. While I have gazillions of ideas about things to do there, the focus lately has been on making clothes. I haven’t done a lot of that in quite a while, but I used to be obsessed with it.

This prize possession came from a street vendor in Rio de Janeiro who knew the importance of a good sewing machine.

People often ask me where and when and how I learned to sew. I’m not sure, because it seems I could always sew. As if the minute I had a needle and thread in my hand, I was stitching. That’s not possible, yet I have no memory of any sewing lessons. Except the one in grade 3, where girls learned to sew an apron making tiny, neat stitches on organdy fabric. (An organdy apron?? Pretty, not practical, but that’s the 1950’s for you.) By then I was already making things for my teddy, so I wasn’t a complete beginner.

My mother must’ve been the one to teach me early on. Most likely I was sitting next to her and just started copying her. Later, when I attempted something more substantial on a sewing machine, I remember feeling discouraged over not getting something right and having to rip it out. She calmly but insistently encouraged me: “Sometimes sewing is more ripping than stitching.” I often repeat this to my students because frustration is inevitable. Sewing isn’t always easy; it requires focus and determination.

Just like mine

My first sewing machine was a Singer Featherweight, c. 1930’s, that I bought at a garage sale when I was 12. I loved it then, and I love it still. It’s a small and perfectly portable machine that lives in a hard, black case with a single handle on top. Inside, a tray for parts and notions sits atop the machine, including a cardboard box full of steel attachments – beautiful objects made in the days when things were built to last forever. Truth is I’ve never used any of them because even though the machine only stitches forward and back (no zig-zagging or other fancy moves), I didn’t need it to do more.

The awkward years. Notice how I added the vanity panel at the little-too-low neckline. Sweet innocence.

I happily sewed my way through the most awkward years. In junior high school, I bought printed cotton fabric from one of the three wonderful fabric and notions shops on little Coronado Island, and cut and sewed it all into shift dresses (very popular in the 1960’s - google for countless examples) with matching tie-on triangle head scarves. I sold these outfits to my classmates, along with the burlap bucket bags I made, lined in coordinating fabric. A complete ensemble!

I continued to sew through the 70’s and 80’s, but over the years since then I lost my chops as work and life consumed all my time and energy. When I retired 2½ years ago I knew I’d get back to sewing as soon as I could.

Fast forward to today. While I don’t have the easy-to-fit body I once had (fitting means extra skills), my life on the Vineyard only requires casual clothes, and the creative vibe here means anything goes. Now I’m practicing again, making and remaking clothes, stitching and ripping, and I think by summer I should have at least one decent garment to wear, with plans for many more to follow.