Home Sewn

I remember the first pair of new jeans I owned. They were dark blue Wranglers with yellow loopy stitching on the back pockets. We bought them at Good's Store run by Mennonites. I wore them on the first day of school in Mr. Kern's 5th grade class.

Until then, Mom sewed all our clothes except underpants, winter sweaters and hand-me-downs. This is why I remember it being a big deal to have jeans like all the other kids. We had homemade dresses, pants, tops, pajamas, bathrobes, Halloween costumes - you name it. She even crocheted us slippers - a new pair every year.

The last time I wore a jumpsuit. Or yellow. 1978. Probably bell bottoms.

The benefit of home sewing was that sometimes Mom took me to the fabric store to pick out the material and buttons I wanted for a new dress or blouse. Everything fit properly. Everything was coordinated. But then I reached the age where I started to notice that other kids had things I didn't, like jeans. Not denim pants like the ones Mom sewed me, but actual jeans with stitching on the back pockets and a thick leather tag emblazoned with a brand name affixed on or near a buttock.

Mom's sewing machine was in the basement, along with twenty years of fabric remnants, boxes of zippers, buttons, trim and other materials. In fact she was sewing in the basement the day I was home sick from school and shouted down the steps to her that the Challenger had exploded. My favorite things she sewed were turtlenecks. Every time there was a cute jersey print for sale, Mom made me a turtleneck. I had turtlenecks galore - flowers, apples, frogs - every color and pattern imaginable to fit my every mood. And there were a lot of vests.

I recently found a vest in the back of my closet that Mom made for me in high school. I kept it all these years, not to wear, but because like the dodo bird and the passenger pigeon, it was the last of its kind and I knew it. It is constructed from floral upholstery fabric (?) in the front with a shiny polyester back panel with anchors patterned in the fabric. It is impeccably sewn, complete with coin pocket. And it still fits. Not in flattering way, but the buttons do close and that's what matters. A girdle, perhaps?

Study fabric for a sturdy girl.

I don't remember Mom ever wearing a vest, but she kept her kids clad in them for a decade. Dozens of photos of cotton, plaid and fake suede vests with bright multi-colored buttons pollute the old photo albums. One of the most prized childhood outfits was a vest and skirt combo. I was 5 years old, and it was an Easter outfit. Mom posed us on the walkway that year, I think to capture her masterpieces moreso than her dapper children. Regardless, she documented the moment in time as we squinted in the sun. My sister and I wore matching striped pastel vests and skirts, and my brother wore a blinding white plaid suit. Our posture and beaming smiles show my brother's and my pleasure, but my sister is less enthusiastic. Mom has since purged her sewing supplies to make room for other hobbies, and I have learned that store-bought jeans (and vests) are not what they are cracked up to be.