I’ve cut out a new dress today. I fell for the colours. They remind me of summer days in my teens. The turquoise/cyan in particular. I remember my sister making a skirt and top in the same colour, one year.
I bought the fabric with a different dress in mind, but when the moment came to prepare the fabric for cutting, I knew it wouldn’t work. Plan B. A different dress pattern.
And I’m sewing again. All thanks to a bit of machine oil, my vintage Singer sewing machine is singing again.
This machine has been sitting in the attic. Budged up there by the purchase of a modern electric sewing machine, a few years back. No point the old girl taking up room, when the new one could do everything I needed. But I didn’t get rid of it. I couldn’t.
For a start, this machine used to belong to my Great Grandma and was handed down. It was made in 1940 in Scotland. I know this from the serial number and a quick internet search. I also found out that the Singer factory was commandeered to make guns, at that time, for the war effort. At slower times, they carried on making sewing machines. Including this one. Continue reading
I’ve had a corduroy skirt put aside for a while to work on. I think it used to belong to one of my big sisters and then handed on to me for dressing up. Once I was past that stage, I left it in a box. Using it to protect the contents of the box, during the many house moves that followed. I’m not sure I meant to keep it. I can’t remember feeling particularly fond of it. The skirt must date back to the 70s.
The label is faded, so I can’t tell which shop it originally came from. Or what size it is. Or even the washing instructions, if I wanted to. The skirt has seen better days.
(I took this photo last week, but somehow it still looks like its the 70s)
This week, I offered it to my stargazing Middle Daughter. It fitted her perfectly, but she didn’t want it. Don’t be fooled by the happy photo just above. Continue reading