Pattern Genes from Mom

This is an old picture of my Mom at a Girl's Party in her Mother's front yard.
Mom is on the far left, and her Mother is second from the right.
You can see from the clothing and hair styles that fashion and grooming
even in the Depression Era was very, very important.
Grandma has on a dotted dress with tucks detailing the front,
the guest on her left has lovely tailored sleeves on her dress, and 
all of the young women are groomed prettily.
That was how Mom was raised, 
and that was how she was
all of her life.

When I was a little girl, she made most of my little dresses. 

My Dad bought her a Kenmore Sewing Machine from Sears Roebuck, 

and she could make that thing fly. 

She bought her fabrics from Wilson's Bargain Center in Florence, Alabama.

Image by Cathy Wood of the Tennessee Valley Art Association

Founded by "The Tall Man With the Low Prices", 

it had wooden floors that creaked and snapped agreeably as you walked, 
kibitzing companionably 
about the sewing project you had in mind

- a lovely, cozy connection from your feet to the fabric and trims.

We spent weeks of my life in there, with my eyes stinging 
from the copious amount  of formaldehyde used 
in the finishing process of the fabrics, but I didn't care.
I just loved fabrics, same as my Mom. 

When I was very small,
I watched as she and her sister Clara would cut apart brown paper grocery sacks,
smooth them flat, and then lay them out on her bed.
They would spend hours discussing the sleeve design, the fullness of the skirt, 
the waistband and neckline of the dress they were imagining.
And then, my Mom's scissors would start flashing through the brown paper,
following the pencil lines they had drawn and re-drawn.

They had their pattern, and it was time to cut the fabric and start sewing.

Later in life, she bought her patterns from McCalls and Simplicity,
and this was one of her favorites:

She made this one up in pink and white,
but amended the pattern
just like she always did, cutting freehand.

I made up my first pattern by folding a  brown paper grocery sack in half
and cutting out a triangle with a square sticking out from the side-
that was the sleeve, I think.

I don't sew much anymore - 
my days are filled
with happy Pattern Making of a different sort.

Instead of scissors and paper,
 needles and thread,
my tools are pens, scanners,
Photoshop and Illustrator
as I draw patterns for the fabrics
she may have chosen to sew up into dresses.

I think she would approve.

Thanks again for those art genes, Mom.  I love you.

Dorothy Louise Cornelius Sizemore, my Mother.

Happy Mother's Day.

Consider Twice, Cut Once...Thanks, Mom!

When I was three, my Mom & Dad gave me a tiny, crank-wheel sewing machine for Christmas.  My Mom was always sewing up a storm on her Singer Sewing Machine, and I was perpetually underfoot, begging her to let me at it.  So they bought me that little pink machine, and the lessons began.  The first thing she taught me was to consider my finished piece in my mind - "see" it in my imagination made up and totally done, and then work backwards to figure out how to cut and assemble my material.  

Those lessons have been invaluable, and have followed me all through life - not just for sewing, but for anything that has to be brought out of my imagination and turned into a real object.  Watching the cabinet crew working today, I realized that they work the same way...they study the space something has to fit into, visualize the finished room, and then after measuring and pondering some more, they cut and assemble.  Here they are in action:

They HAVE to figure out how to trim out these windows without using "trim".

 We're replacing 28 year-old wallpaper (Ugh) with bead board, and the space is too small to put a slice of bead board in.  And, it has to look good when they're finished.  Check out Daniel with the tape:

Then, whispering the measurement to himself, and holding the picture in his mind, he races down to the saw to cut out a part of the pattern:

This work station only works when it's not raining!

 I can assure you that when he comes back with this piece, it will fit perfectly.

In the bathroom, the same thing happened this morning as another team member started to build our new linen closet and vanity:

You probably can't see it, but his tongue is sticking out to help in concentrating...

He's working in the chaos of the old bedroom, but he can already "see" the linen closet installed in the bathroom, where there are only cut wires, partial plumbing stubs, and old insulation right now.

It REALLY makes me want to get back to my studio and make something - and it REALLY makes me remember my Mom as Mother's Day approaches.  What a great teacher she was, to pass that tricky but powerful lesson on to me.  Thanks, Mom!