Growing up, we had a sewing machine tucked away in the study of our unfinished basement. The cement floor meant that you had to wear socks to reach it, and as I was morally opposed to wearing anything on my feet as a child, I had very little interaction with this basement sewing machine. It didn’t help that it was one of those old models, too — the kind that is built into a table, like the old radios that needed a whole cabinet just to house them. In fact, I’m not really sure if it ever worked, but it was sure useful to store other clutter that found its way to the study.
My nuclear family, then, was not so big on sewing. I’m sure I remember sewing a few Girl Scout Patches on, but I’m equally as sure that they didn’t look too good.
But my grandmother, as all good stereotypical grandmothers are, was a sewing phenom. I remember explicitly getting hand crafted clothing for my far too plentiful American Girl Dolls, and every Christmas getting matching family sweaters. She’s still a phenom to this day — my husband and I are lucky to sleep under a quilt handmade by Grandma as a gift on the occasion of our wedding.
So I was certainly exposed to sewing growing up. I recall a project or two completed with my grandma, and to this day I can still thread a needle. But I never really had much of a need to sew (well, I guess it would have saved my pants from the <insert link> juggling catastrophe) so I was content with the basic threading-a-needle business.
That is, until I became friends with cosplay enthusiasts. That’s right, it turns out befriending the second place US World Cosplay Summit team means that sewing has all of a sudden become not only cool but a necessary tool in the having-fun arsenal.
Which means that it’s time I learn how to sew!