Ripping time

I’ve always been fond of sewing as far as I can remember and used to love making little garments for my little dollies as a little girl.  In school, needlework was compulsory and as an 8 year old, we had to make a pleated skirt, a smocked nightdress  and I can’t remember the third garment…perhaps it was embroidered table mats? At that time I hated it especially since most of the time all we did was rip what we had done. Our needlework teacher who doubled up as the Gym teacher insisted that the front and back had to be indistinguishable with even stitches, no loose threads and no ugly knots.

Sewing time

But all that ripping came in handy when it was time to sew. During University, I joined a tailoring class Kathryn’s at Kemp’s Corner, run by two crusty, old Parsi women who were equally ruthless with untidy work but  at least now I had a sewing machine. Several garments later, I became a fairly competent seamstress and enjoyed stitching ‘home’ clothes for my daughters especially at a sewing class where I met other young mothers.

However, as the girls developed their own sartorial preferences, I stopped stitching for them and was left to doing the odd seam here and there, a loose button or an undone hem. At best I made my own sari petticoats till I found it cheaper and more convenient to go pret. My sewing machine which I had bought with such enthusiasm still looks at me accusingly and from time to time I got it serviced to assuage my guilt of having abandoned a hobby that had given me such joy.

Today, it seemed, the time had come for me to stretch my sewing muscle and I cut a ready made garment to size ( I’m too short for the Large but too fat for the Small) and turned it in with a neat hem, revisiting  a hobby that was pure nostalgia.

Is there a hobby that you miss? 

I’m linking this post to #MondayMusings hosted by Corinne  on her inspiring blog , everydaygyaan.com