For all of us who learned how to sew on a Singer sewing machine…

My granddaughter loves dressing up, and my daughter-in-law is always scouring stores and garage sales for dress-up clothes. Watching my granddaughter wrap a blanket around her waist, pretending it was a ball gown, I knew I had to make Kylie a princess outfit.
Luckily, my grandmother taught me how to sew when I was in my early teens. Marguerite was a fabulous seamstress, and she made all her clothes and her daughter’s clothes.

One summer, she agreed to teach me how to sew. The two of us went to the local TG&Y, and she showed me how to look through the big pattern books to find what I wanted.

There were patterns for everything — dresses, coats, pants and jackets. As we flipped through the pages, Grandma pointed out which patterns would be good choices for a novice.

We settled on a Simplicity pattern with a dropped-waist dress, a thin belt and cap sleeves. Grandma showed me how to read the back of the pattern so I’d know how much material I needed, what length of zipper to buy and to check for any extras, like interfacing or lining material.

I remember we paid less than a dollar for the pattern, and we chose bright red material and thread to match.

Laying the material on the kitchen table, Grandma made me carefully cut the pattern pieces out of that thin tissue paper and then showed me how to pin the pattern pieces in place, paying close attention to the pieces that needed to go on the fold.

Sipping her coffee, Grandma patiently explained what all the pattern markings meant — this was a line for hand stitching so the material wouldn’t fray on the curve and the black, diamond notches were markers to make it easier to line up the pieces.

Grandma said it was important to press the curves and all the seams as we went along, so the iron and ironing board were set up next to the sewing machine.

She showed me how to weave the thread in and out of all the metal loops and gears on my mom’s black Singer sewing machine and how to load the bobbin. Grandma showed me how to use the foot pedal, easing up around the curves and a little faster on the straight seams.

Day after day, we sat down together, Grandma guiding me through every step, checking my seams and making me rip them out and start over if they were wrong.

I learned how to make darts and how to sew a gathering stitch. I learned how to baste a zipper in place and to clip the curves on the collar and sleeves.

When the dress was almost finished, she showed me how to make a belt loop by hand and how to hem, my grandmother’s stitches so tiny, the thread practically disappeared into the material.

That initial sewing lesson has served me well in life. Not only have I made my own clothes, but also my sons’ play clothes, curtains for our home and doll clothes for my nieces.

Now with a granddaughter, it was time to haul my trusty Kenmore out of storage. Running my fingers over the metal gears, I remembered those long-ago afternoons with my grandmother.

At the time, I thought I was only getting sewing lessons, but Marguerite was really passing on life lessons.

She taught me to stitch carefully, press out the wrinkles as you go and know it’s possible to create something beautiful from the small pieces and moments in your life.

This article was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.