When I was little, my mom made most of my clothes. She said it was because I was so tiny. I know she had to drive me to a special shoe store for my shoes because I wore a quadruple A shoe with a quin A heel. Tiny feet. So, clothes were hard to find that fit me. 
So, she sewed.
My mom had an old Singer sewing machine downstairs in our huge laundry room. She had jars and jars of antique buttons that I really wish I had today. She also had a bunch of the tomato pin cushions. She could throw together an outfit faster than anyone. Well, it would have been faster if I was a willing
participant.
There was a phrase in my house that I just hated hearing from her. “Vickie….I need you to try this on.” Oh Dear God, you have no idea how many times I heard that while growing up. I did not want to try anything on. It was a long process in my book from McCall pattern to folding it and putting it in my closet. So, I hid.
“Vickie!!……Vickie!!……Vickie, get down here…………..NOW!…..Don’t make me come up there!!…..If you don’t come down here right now, I will make you go to church tomorrow.”
Ok, that worked. We went to Sunday school and then went next door to Isaly’s for breakfast. I loved Isaly’s because they cut their
toast diagonally. I mean, how cool was that? Church was so boring. Plus, there was a song that we sang at the end of Sunday school:
Sunday school is over and we are going home. Good-bye, Good-bye…Be always kind and good. See, no time for church.
So, I got out of my hiding place in the clothes hamper in the bathroom and walked downstairs. Damnit, she had the chalk marker. This made me dizzy. I had to put my skirt on, and stand perfectly still while she crawled around with the chalk marker to 
marker for the hem line. Sometimes I had to turn around and the chalk marker stayed still. Regardless, I hated that chalk marker.
It wasn’t as much the chalk marker as it was the Salem cigarette puffing mother who tried to keep the cigarette in her mouth while she was smacking at my leg when she wanted me to turn. She couldn’t talk while that cancer stick was in her mouth, so hitting me just seemed so appropriate. I couldn’t read her mind. I didn’t know when she was done pinning the skirt.
Sometimes she would stab me with a pin. Sometimes her cigarette would brush against my leg. And when I would yelp, she would slap at my leg to stand still. I was screwed no matter what I did.
When I got a bit older, the child labor really cranked up a notch. She had me pinning the pattern to the fabric. Then I had to cut it out. I hated this. Because I was enept. I didn’t understand the patterns. The whole process was just so stressful. I hated sewing. I hated smoking. And I hated chalk.
When I got to be in junior high, we had to take sewing class. I just wanted to puke. So, I turned into a goof-off. I got my partner in crime, Ramaine, and we would sew mittens instead of the A-line skirt we were supposed to be working on. And then we would wear the mittens. My how we laughed. We had a fashion show with the outfits we made and I was scared to death to wear what I made because I just didn’t care.
I vowed I would never own a sewing machine. I would never force my future children to stand while I put pins in their outfits. I was never going to sew. Ever.
Fastforward many years and you would have found me sitting on the floor, measuring and pinning my daughter’s gown for a dance. Yeah, I know. I never did buy a sewing machine and sewed everything by hand. I designed and sewed all of their Halloween costumes. I hemmed by hand. I cross-stitched for a hobby.
In the end, I did learn to sew. I tried to limit the time I called my daughter to check the hem of a gown.
Even if she was too old to hide in the laundry hamper.
****************************************************************************
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Jumping in Mud Puddles: A Memoir of a Picky, Hyper, Big Fat Liar
Posted by Amanda on August 27, 2012 at 1:42 am
My boyfriends family has that same old sewing machine – It’s beautiful.
Posted by paralaxvu on March 17, 2012 at 4:37 pm
Yay, Isaly’s! Yay, Diagonally sliced toast! Actually, yay, Moms who sew! Both my sister and I were too tall and skinny for most bought stuff so Mom would either sew my things or fix the stuff that my older cousin outgrew.
Posted by paralaxvu on March 17, 2012 at 4:39 pm
Geez, I cannot believe I didn’t tell you how much I liked your writing! I like your writing!
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on March 17, 2012 at 5:00 pm
Thank you!
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on March 17, 2012 at 4:59 pm
Diagonal toast was the only way to go..lol
Posted by Let's CUT the Crap! on February 8, 2012 at 7:02 pm
Thanks for stopping by my blog. I’ll be back. Great posts here.
We had almost the same sewing machine and my mother blew the competition away sewing (sans cigarette) for FIVE of us—all girls.
Posted by papermudandme on February 2, 2012 at 6:57 pm
Loved Smoking Seamstress. My mother made our clothes too, but she didn’t have a treadle machine so we had to turn the handle because she like to use both hands to feed the cloth. After a while we got to know when to turn and when to stop. But boring, especially when you wanted to kick a ball istead.
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on February 2, 2012 at 7:00 pm
I just hated it. Since she had the cigarette in her mouth, she would just hit my leg when she wanted me to turn around while she was using that damn chalk marker. I hate sewing..lol
Posted by Peter on January 16, 2012 at 7:28 pm
My mom had exactly the same sewing machine you showed!
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on January 16, 2012 at 7:38 pm
It was a very popular model..lol
Posted by kathryningrid on January 12, 2012 at 2:11 am
Oh, yeah, my mom had the hem marker and the chalk and the pins, too. No cigarettes, though, thankfully!! And she sewed beautifully and liked it enough that although I did have to survive Home Ec sewing briefly, later she would finish stuff that I’d cut out and given up on ever finishing–partly because I knew she’d give in and partly because I could *never* do the incredible quality of work she did. So she was *smokin’* in that sense, at least.
Posted by workingtechmom on February 10, 2011 at 8:45 am
Isaly Toast…priceless. I had a friend whose mom would cut our tuna sandwiches diagonally. I thought it was so chic. Never thought to ask my mom to do it for us at home.
I have that exact sewing machine in my house. It was my Gram’s and my mom had it sanded and stained and gave it to me. Is that yours? (or just a photo you found)
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on February 10, 2011 at 9:05 am
It’s just a photo I found. My sister has my mom’s. Or she sold it. I have no idea. I would probably use it as a side table or something. Seeing the machine may cause nightmares..lol
Posted by mynakedbokkie on February 10, 2011 at 3:58 am
My mom never sewed a thing! It was such a pain because we were all really short, still are, and we always had to have teh hems sewn. We ended up doing it ourselves, and it always was really bad.
Now- I am mostly sensible and get someone else to do it! Haha.
I do however wish that i could sew my own clothes. Probably save a heap of money!!
I have a perfect picture of your mom in my mind. You must post one one day so that we can compare.
xx
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on February 10, 2011 at 6:21 am
I will try to find a picture of her. I think I will probably write a blog just about her some day, even though my posts are riddled with her influence…lol
I hate sewing.
Posted by sunshineinlondon on February 9, 2011 at 1:40 pm
I love how you write, Vickie! This post makes me want to laugh and to cry, but mostly to laugh – I can so picture the scene. My mom sewed too, and I always stood in fear of being pricked with the pins as she adjusted garments on me, especially the sleeves. I hadn’t thought about that for years!
Sunshine xx
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on February 9, 2011 at 2:09 pm
Thanks, Sunshine! You know, it is a wonder that I can remember what I did 20 minutes ago, but I can remember one aspect of my youth, like a chalk marker, and it all comes flooding back to me…lol
Posted by writerwoman61 on February 9, 2011 at 11:52 am
Love the fact that you liked going to Isaly’s because they cut the toast diagonally!
I hate sewing too! I do it strictly on a necessary basis…hemming pants that are too long, or sewing loose buttons back on.
Our laundry hamper was too small to hide in…
Wendy
Posted by Jumping in Mud Puddles on February 9, 2011 at 2:08 pm
Oh, and I made my mom cut my toast diagonally or I wouldn’t eat it afterwards. I called it Isaly toast..lol