One Bag and Twenty-Nine Years Later

I was in bed last night thinking about sewing.  My bathroom stash currently includes a five year old Good Housekeeping, and in it was a personal essay about sewing. So, trying to arrange my mind for sleep, I realized sewing had saved my sanity when I was 36 years old.

You see, I'd never really planned for children.  Truthfully, I was too selfish, and probably still am for the endeavor of parenting.  However, I reached a point where the accumulation of possessions, coupled with madly chasing a muddled career carrot, interspersed with cool vacations began to pale.  If I had actually had a challenging and interesting career when I was 33 perhaps my life would have turned out differently. Also, there's a certain element of fate in these decisions.

We found ourselves settled in New Orleans, Louisiana, age 35, with a newborn baby, and a new lifestyle which we had deliberately chosen.  As with so many things when you just close your eyes and plunge in, this decision turned out to be the foundation of the most interesting five years of my life.  However, what my life at that time didn't have was a sense of self fulfillment. Parenting newbie people is all about shoving self to the side and concentrating on getting the newbie off to a good start.  This lasts for much, much longer than what you thought you were signing up for.  Couple it with a new very strange town, my new job, which didn't involve other adults and had a LOT of scut work, it was a tough adjustment.

In the mid '80's people didn't really wait until they'd been married fifteen years and in their mid 30's before starting the baby game.  I found most of the other mothers I met to be so very young, without very much life experience, and frankly, boring. Fortunately, my book habit was being satisfied by Radio for the Blind and Print Handicapped, an actual New Orleans radio station, which left my hands free for infant care.  It took about two weeks before I readily admitted to myself I was a complete failure as a homemaker, and worse, found the endless household chores tedious.  Just keeping everything reasonably clean, and putting a basic meal on the table was the extent of my interest in that direction.  I had no sense of personal satisfaction in my life beyond the parenting project, and I felt like Jan was withering.

One Easter dress shopping experience in 1986 changed everything.  Upon examination, I came to the conclusion all fancy toddler dresses were composed of four pieces of decorated material.  I said to myself, "Oh, please, how hard could it be to make one and save $70?"  I further rationalized my thinking.  "If it was bad, well, Sarah would outgrow it in three months, and I could get rid of it.  Thus started my sewing adventure.  Don't misunderstand.  I'm still a rudimentary sewer who finds putting in a zipper to be an adventure, but I'm game, and in my sewing world, there's always the trusty seam ripper and trying again, and again.

Sewing and by natural extension embroidery became my salvation nurtured along by the mind numbing repetitive nature of most of my other responsibilities.  Creating something from scratch gave me such a sense of personal satisfaction.  Working out difficulties during the process was just a bonus.  My fingers to this day linger over my successes and mistakes.  Those are trivial compared to the a bone deep feeling of pride in the process of production and the accomplishment of completion.

The reason the GH sewing essay hit home was I'd just finished my latest project.  I made a bag which incorporated a piece of embroidery I'd done more than a few years ago.  Is it perfect?  No!  Absolutely not!  Did I learn a whole bunch about bag construction?  You bet.  Am I proud of it.  Oh, yes.  Here it is - my latest creative urge which has been just as satisfying at age 65 as that first baby dress when I was 36.

Hand embroidered pocket on Jacquard canvas tote bag

Interior lined in poly silk with multiple pockets