Patterns and “Up-cycling”
I noticed my eldest daughter struggling to choose something to wear to church on Sunday. Her most recent growth spurt, both in fashion sense and body, had outgrown what few “churchy” things remained in her closet. She was miserable. “Can I skip church, just today?”
But like my mother, and grandmother, I say, “God wants you at church, He doesn’t care what you wear. It’ll be okay.”
After spending two hours at church in a dress that fit her body, but not her mind, we went home and began looking through my sewing patterns and my ever-growing stash of bulk fabrics bought on sale for just the right time. A sewing pattern was chosen, but amended to include personalised stylings that only she could imagine (and I hoped I could sew!). A fabric was chosen next, but she really wanted to highlight the turquoise-peacock blue—her favourite colour. “Hummm…” I mused… wondering how to make that work. Ribbon, contrasting fabrics, laces and so on were all discussed, and nearly everything in my sewing room–but for Christmas buttons– was thoroughly examined for all possibilities.
[image error]I ironed the fabric and pattern pieces, then pinned them one by one on the folded cotton print. As I laid each piece, ensuring to get the correct grain and alignment in the fabric’s swirling design, I then began to measure. Next I added hand-draw alterations directly on the fabric with a blue crayola marker, all according to my daughter’s bidding.
I love doing this. I love sewing, I love brightly coloured fabrics with patterns of zeal and colour. I love seeing my daughters’ eyes come alive as we spy gorgeous sewing materials, and dream of what could become of them. I love working with my daughters to make clothes that fit each of them—their figures, their personalities, their passions. It is truly one of the things I love about motherhood– sharing art, and creating wearable, one-of-a-kind creations.
In many ways, I am repeating what my own mother taught me when I was a novice teen seamstress. At that time, I almost exclusively used a single sewing pattern, used and re-used so many times that I have since made in entirely by memory, absent of the well-worn pattern pieces. After all, I was focused on the zealous and whimsical fabric colours and prints much more than the sewing patterns—inspiring my confidence in adjusting a simple pattern into shorts, a skirt, or even into palazzo pants.
I often think of my mother as I sew. I imagine her telling me that I do something very well, or telling me that I am doing something that I “might regret.” Better still, I envision her telling me that whatever I made was “very creative”—a phrase that I am still not sure was intended to express a compliment or shock for my most recent handiwork. I think of her hands, academically-trained in professional stitching, and how she showed me with a ruler to exactly match the grain of the fabric with the grainline on pattern pieces. I think of how she made pocket money when I was a child, in altering the dresses of newly endowed church members. She would add sleeves, or perhaps a bit of length, yet the frocks retained and increased in beauty under the sharp eye and gifted workings of my mother’s fingers.
I could never repeat any pattern- either in sewing or as demonstrated by my mother- to perfection. For a long time, that frustrated me. But I have since learned that is one of my gifts: I am pretty skilled at adapting and being flexible, yet whilst following a basic guide. I create a kind of dance- using words, fabrics,or craft supplies— that includ pirouetting salsa bee-bops steps that few could try (or want to?) imitate.
For me, patterns are like rules. And as we all know, “rules were meant to be broken.” From earth tones with off-white accents, to regularly using and tossing out plastics, to slapping a child’s backside to as punishment for misbehaviour. Some patterns need to be amended, updated and stopped. But the core of the pattern remains: in-style purple paisley with peacock flowers, reuse and recycling, and most importantly, redirecting negative behaviour with love, patience and a firm yet kind voice. Patterns are good. But “up-cycling”, as my daughter would say, is even better. To “up-cycle” allows the original item to be retained, yet adapted to create something more beautiful, more personal, and more wondrous. It forgives the dated, often unsightly origin of the object, and breathes in new life, love and purpose. [image error]
I love doing this– it’s nostalgia with a twist. It is who I am, and how I hope to teach my daughters to be. So a part of me chuckles as I sew. I wonder what my daughters are taking from my crafting habits and nuances. And from my parenting and partnering. And I wonder how they will up-cycle these habits in their own lives and homes. It makes me excited for them, and for their future. It also makes me appreciate the past, and even forgive some of the stings. Patterns are good. Patterns of forgiveness are even better.
How have you up-cycled the patterns of your parents? What patterns have you retained?
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