The Sewing Lesson

This is the first of a series of stories about my childhood. I have written many of these stories for my children but thought it would be important (for me anyway) to have them on my blog. The picture above is a picture of me when I was twelve. I know I look older than that but I'm not. This story, The Sewing Lesson, took place at that time in my life.

If my children can remember the very stylish clothing I used to sew for them when they were little, they should thank their grandmother. Beginning at age 12, I was forced by my mother (yes, forced) to take sewing lessons every summer. My mother would drop me off at the Singer Sewing Machine store in downtown Tampa and there I would be with my classmates and teacher, Mrs. Lazzara. Mrs. Lazzara was an Italian woman with jet black, dyed hair. She was not a fun person, not a fun teacher, not a happy lady at all. When she explained laying out a pattern, I barely understood because of my spatial disability which I didn't know I had at the time. Then when it would be time to cut the garment, I would cut it smaller than it was supposed to be because I always wanted to be thinner than I was, which was not very thin at all.

For some reason I could not sew straight and so the 5/8" seam was always crooked. Mrs. Lazzara would make us hand-baste all of the seams because it was against the rules to sew over pins. That was not allowed.

The first summer, we made a cotton jumper. It was the ugliest thing you ever saw. Mine was turquoise and I hated it. But my mother made me wear it a couple of times anyway. The second summer, I made an orange dress that I loved but could have never made by myself. I really think that Mrs. Lazzara constructed most of it because she felt sorry for me. The dress was sort of like a sundress with fabric that crossed in the front. It had a very tricky little seam which I would have never know how to sew. But I loved that dress and wore it a lot to junior high school even though one of my best friends had one just like it.

Mrs. Lazzara is most well-known for her pronunciation of "salvage edge". She used to pronounce it as if she had a mouth full of sandpaper. I didn't like her at all.

However, I did develop a liking for sewing and made some of my clothes during high school and college. The problem with me was that I always made my clothing to match the measurements I wished I had instead of the measurements I really had. Therefore, all my skirts had a 24 inch waist even though I actually had a 26 inch waist. And the hips...I would never make the hips the correct size so my clothes never really fit me right. I wonder when this body image thing began? So now, I'm a great fan of clothing that is not sized properly. I love buying a size six when it is really a size eight or ten. Takes me right back to my childhood.