Once More With Feeling

 

My mother and our neighbor, Lois went together to purchase a Singer treadle sewing machine when I started in the first grade. Dad said mother needed something besides my baby brother to occupy her time. From my perspective it seemed moving the machine between the two houses took up the most time. Oddly enough I always felt most at home at which ever house the machine was in.

I also took possession of all the scraps of fabric to craft wardrobes from my bevy of dolls. Frankly until then they seemed to not have much purpose but to adorn my shelves and bed. I was not allowed to use the Singer but would from time to time ask the operator to overstitch some of my hand sewing. Lois was always more amenable to this. She was the one with previous sewing experience. Mother knit and crocheted but Lois knew how to stitch things up and so she was the teacher for my mother, and on the sly me.

By the time I was twelve and no longer living by Lois I was sewing my own clothes on Mother's new Elna. I had also developed the treasured skill of untangling it when it did not live up to her expectations. It may have appeared more complex than the treadle Singer but was elementally the same. I sewed all my school clothes through college and mastered the organizational skill of cutting out all patterns and storing them until I was home during break and sewing like crazy to get them all done before going back to school. At the time you could also rent sewing machines for a month so nothing was lost in leaving home.

I really loved to sew and it didn't always have a lot to do with needing a new outfit. And I could create on other people's dime by volunteering for amateur theatrical companies. Having to earn my living and drifting to the real arts like painting the sewing machine which I eventually owned was relegated to the spare room. But like the computer, pets, and plants it always moved with me. When Covid-19 hit I moved it to a corner of the living room to make masks and scrub caps for my sister and her nursing staff.

Masks and fabric boxes

Then I discovered what I should have known from my costuming days; I was addicted to fabric. And like my romance with painting, the more colorful the better. But I also knew I never wanted to make anything which had to fit ever changing figures again. Well, maybe hats. 

Sun hats

Bags, purses and totes. So many possible creations out of materials you can buy on line.

Messenger Purses from old jeans

Detail on Messenger purse

Small Messenger bag

And so began Fabric Arts by Jacqui. Unlike paintings they do not require wall space which was at a premium with businesses and galleries closed down. And they ship far easier than paintings. And did I mention they do not have to fit or match the couch?