magic is real
I’ve sewn forever, it feels like. In high school, I’d go to Goodwill and buy clothes with the intention of altering their length and fit or frankensteining them into something new altogether. I used my mom’s sewing machine, though I don’t really remember ever getting any lessons on how to use it. Both my mom and her mom sewed. I remember my grandma making a Princess Jasmine costume for my preschool Halloween parade (she put me in a tan bodysuit so that my belly wasn’t bare, and I was intensely jealous of my fellow Jasmine friend who got to wear a real crop top. I see now that that was probably a good call on Grandma’s part.) My mom used her machine to make matching outfits (dresses for her and me, and a little button-down for my brother) to welcome my dad home from his deployments.
I’m sure they showed me here and there what they were doing, but I don’t remember any formal introduction—here is where you put the thread, this is how you refill the bobbin, here is how to thread the needle, here is how to change the stitch—that sort of thing. I just picked up what I could through osmosis and then fumbled my way through an extensive amount of trial and error.
In college, I bought a $60 sewing machine from a woman in El Cerrito. At the time, that cost was a bit of a stretch for me, but I needed my own machine for incidental projects, as I wasn’t living at home anymore. I’ve been using that machine since 2011 for any and all of my machine sewing needs. I’ll make garments here and there, alter clothes that need a shift, and repair clothes whose lives I want to extend. I knew it wasn’t the best machine, but I was satisfied with it.
Then, two nights ago, my mother-in-law was impressed with the shirt I was wearing—I’d made it earlier that day. I live in the same house her mother did before she died, and Patti told me that her mother would be so happy to know I was sewing and making things there, too. She pulled out her mom’s old machine and told me to take it home. I was incredibly touched and honored to be entrusted with the care of this beloved sewing machine, and also excited because it’s definitely nicer than my own.
Yesterday, I was eager to use it. I’ve been making tops and dresses out of bandanas lately—they’re “hip” according to the internet and easy to use because they’re cheap and pre-cut—so I pulled out four bandanas I’d been saving for a top and got to work figuring out this new machine.
I was amazed to find out what a dream it was to use. It made sewing with my old machine feel like driving a Pinto. In comparison, this decades-old machine is a Mercedes. I never realized how much I’d been missing. It made me laugh, but also feel so honored to be taking this machine that was built to last and had been used by this other woman who I’d never met, but who has indelibly shaped my partner and his family.
It was sobering to think that, just as my mom and her mom passed along this skill to me, somewhere in my hands, our shared skills, shared lineages, I now could link to this other mom and her mom through this machine. And not only those four women, but also the countless other makers and sewers who have come before me.
Every time we make something with our own hands, there is power in the labor, and there is love in the creation. We create a story, a sense of knowing where something comes from, as well as a value that is defined not from the raw material and labor, but from the sense of accomplishment, pride, and wonder that we can use a kind of alchemy to transform. There’s my proof that magic is real.
prompt #36:
What do you carry with you from generations past? What skills or items or knowledge has been passed on to you, either purposefully, or accidentally? How does it feel to carry it? Is it a blessing, a burden, or something in-between?
Take five minutes to reflect on these questions, and then take a deep breath. You may find that this writing prompt is heavy for you. If so, be gentle and give yourself some extra love. If, on the other hand, this practice makes you feel positive, rejoice in that bliss.
After you’ve had a chance to sit with your reflection, see if the piece wants to evolve, transform, or take a new direction. Prune it or plant it, whatever you need. Enjoy.
ashley's piece:
(Was today’s intro!)