On sewing.

I'm sewing almost every day this summer. I do my gardening early in the morning before I have my tea. Then I answer email, read, and sometimes write. (I will write #1000wordsofsummer beginning June 17, with Jami Attenberg). In the afternoons I sew. Do you sew? Do you have someone who sews for you?

Sewing has a lot of parts. Finding a pattern, choosing the fabric, obtaining or gathering all the notions (buttons, zippers, clasps, thread, elastic, etc.). Sometimes it involves ripping out seams.

Right now, I'm downsizing a pair of white jeans. I received a bag of J Jill clothes, tops and a few pants. Most of the tops fit either me or my daughter, and these pants are too large, but I really want them.

To downsize jeans entails a lot of ripping out of seams. Not just any seams, but flat felled seams. You may not know the term, but you've seen jeans. There's a lot that goes into making those gorgeous sturdy seams. So far I've done three sessions of seam ripping and I'm not yet finished.

After I rip everything out and resize it, I'll have to recreate the seams.

Regular downsizing is simpler. Sometimes you don't even have to rip out seams, you can add darts, or take it in and trim it down. Do you alter your own clothes? Have them altered?

Honestly, sometimes it's easier to make something new from scratch. (Like prom dresses and wedding dresses, ha.) But that is wasteful and not good for the environment.

Sewing is work, but sewing is also fun. It is a form of art. You can create something for yourself that fits you perfectly and no one else has what you have.

My mom made my clothes from the time I was born until my dad died when I was seven. She made everything including winter coats, winter leggings, hats, underwear, rompers, dresses, overalls. She used flour sacks, old clothes, curtains, couch covers, and occasionally a new piece of fabric.

When I was about two and a half she made me a slip from a flour sack that still had FLOUR printed on it. I wore it under a handmade dress to Sunday School where I said my mom had made me a slip with my name on it and lifted my dress to show everyone. It's a wonder I didn't get stuck with the nickname "Flour."

She also made my costumes for dance recitals. Here is a photo of me with my first boyfriend, a dance classmate. Mom not only made my costumes, but she created the first one from a pattern for the teacher’s approval. Sometimes that meant she had to make a different one, and I got to keep both. This particular one was made in both blue and yellow.

In grade school my favorite outfit was a peasant blouse made from white net curtains, and a full circle skirt made from a bark cloth couch cover. (See examples in above photos.)

When I was in my twenties I made myself dresses, formal gowns, pant suits. Mind you, I wasn't as good at sewing as I am now, and I didn't care a fig about finished seams or whether the item fit perfectly. I had almost zero patience with my machine, never cleaned it, never had it serviced. I expected it to work perfectly and not bother me.

Needless to say, I didn't really enjoy sewing. I just wanted outfits I couldn't find on the rack.

Now I do enjoy sewing, even maintaining the machine, ironing seams, all of it. My biggest challenge now is fitting myself. A dream would be having a dress form made to my actual body. It's possible and those who have been fortunate enough to have it done rave about how much easier it is to fit their clothes.

Photo from an ad for personalized dress forms.

Not only does a made-to-order dress form get all your measurements correct, but it takes into account the fact that one shoulder is higher, one leg shorter, your belly is a certain shape, maybe one hip is higher than the other. When you make clothes that actually fit your body, you can be totally comfortable in them.

Meanwhile, I will continue to make things, alter things, repair and patch things. The good feeling comes from knowing I'm putting fewer things into the landfill.