random thoughts – Day 2,079 (Tuesday) – sew what

Small sewing machines in
an antiques shop.

On Sunday, while shopping with Mom in an antique shop, I saw a display case filled with small sewing machines in pretty colors. It sent me right back to my early childhood and the apartment we lived in on Laurel Street in Fitchburg until I was five.

Suddenly, there I was, at a table in front of a window in the kitchen of our first floor apartment, stitching away with my pink plastic sewing machine. This wasn’t just some pretend toy. It used a real needle and thread to create actual stitches and was probably early training to prepare us to work in the factories. Mom was nearby doing Mom things, so I wasn't unsupervised.

During my sewing of whatever it was I was making, I put my fingers too close to the action and the needle went through the pad of my index finger. I don’t remember, but I probably screamed, because Mom was at my side quickly. As I recall it (and this could be wrong), Dad did a fly-by to assess the situation and promptly exited the kitchen and Mom liberated my finger from the needle and the machine. After dragging her to the display case in the shop, Mom confirmed the pink machine and me sewing my finger with it. I had often wondered if I imagined it.

My early brush with domestic arts blodshed didn’t deter me from sewing and it effectively taught me to be more careful. Mom taught me how to lay out patterns on the grain and cut and stitch, and in seventh or eighth grade I made myself a maxi dress with a cap sleeve for the junior high chorus performance. I chose a polyester knit fabric with a cream background with maroon flowers. I laid out the fabric on the rug in the living room, checked and rechecked the fabric grain, pinned the tissue pattern, took a deep breath, and cut out the pieces. Then I stitched it together on Mom’s full-size Singer machine that lived in a brown wooden cabinet.

We weren't a frequent photo-taking family so there are no photos of my dress. The only time I remember wearing it was for the concert in the school auditorium. I remember almost fainting from standing still for so long. I remember singing “You’ve Got a Friend” by Carole King and the popular World War II song “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” but not if those were in the same concert or if we had more than one concert.  And I still remember that pink plastic sewing machine from when I was four or five, and the dress from junior high.