If only my old needlework teacher could see me now. We’re talking half a century ago, so it’s amazing how clearly I can recall standing by her desk doling out pins for her to secure the latest tedious project prior to stitching, in fear of handing her the pointy end. No, battleaxe meets boredom did nothing to inspire a love of sewing; instead, my mother taught me the skills that have proved both useful and enjoyable all my life.
Recent conversations have revealed that Mum herself learned as a little girl from the lady next door. It became a lifelong activity with an emphasis on good quality materials and perfect finishing, whether dealing with school dresses, curtains or evening gowns – the latter resulting from bolts of sensational fabric brought back by my father from overseas business trips. She made a fabulous job of my wedding dress too, although in my defence it fell to me to cover and make rouleau loops for about three dozen tiny buttons.Continue Reading