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Sewing

My love of material goes back a long time.  Auntie Cath, an enforced tailor for her father, our Lithuanian Grandfather, as soon as she could hold a needle, taught me how to sew on Saturday nights while we listened to the play on the Home Service in the 1960s.  The most memorable was a dusky blue wool coat using a piece from one of the miriad of fabric shops in Bradford. 

Coupled with this was Miss Feather at St Joseph's College in the second year when she supervised the whole class of 13 year olds in making a dress each which had every conceivable step needed to learn and execute - darts, collar, gathered skirt, tacking, hemming, buttonholing, interlining, stiffening, using a pattern and an electric sewing machine. I was hooked on making my own clothes and still alter and make up things avidly but never to that tailor's standard of Auntie Cath.  I am too much of an imperfectionist for that.

I used Mum's electric machine at home but when we married, I could only afford a hand one so for £10 bought one in Halifax Covered Market.  I soon upgraded to a second hand machine and dressed our houses with home made curtains,  duvet covers, pillowcases, cushions, quilts, covered settees, anything that could be made more cheaply than buying, for we were poor, despite being on two wages, such was the interest rates on a mortgage at that time.  But it was also a way of me expressing myself artistically, using my hands and my love of design in my genes would not stay still.  I should have gone to textile or art college, not into the police or teaching. Hindsight and all that.

I can't possibly find photos of everything I have made.  I have some of the treasured clothes of the children up in the loft, waiting to be used again.  But of course, they won't be wanted.  Ah, well, they might be enjoyed by the owners to reminisce some day.

And now they are being loved again!   Our first grandchild is wearing her Mum's coats and dresses I made around 1988.  How great is that!

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