My Kendra: A Story of My Sewing Machine

My mom didn't sew often when I was young. When she did, it was mostly to make simple Halloween or theater costumes or valances for our windows. Until I got married, I slept with a piece of the matching bedspread and curtains set she made when I was about four and I still have the obviously homemade but well-loved dolly she made me out of one of my baby dresses. Those few things were about it. Neither was sewing or the traditional home-economics course offered at my high school. Growing up, it just wasn't a common hobby or practice.

Somehow, during college, I got it in my head that I needed to own a sewing machine. I didn't know the first thing about how to work one and had absolutely no skill besides sewing a button or hemming a pant leg, but I knew in my heart of hearts that if I didn't get a sewing machine soon my life simply wouldn't be satisfied. I had visions of beautifully made dresses and skirts, perfectly fitted pants, exquisite detailing and funky designs. The first and last item on my Christmas list was "Sewing Machine". I didn't know which machines were good or bad and didn't care to, in my head they were all piled on the same glorious pedestal.

At the age of 20 I anticipated Christmas as though I were 6. Over the course of Christmas vacation gifts accumulated under the tree. Some for my mom, some for my brother, some for my dad, and a few for me. None, however, the size nor shape of the coveted sewing machine. On Christmas morning I stumbled out of bed and into the living room to gather 'round the tree with the fam. My first gift: a spool case. Um. Thanks? Second: scissors. O...k....Third one threw me off, a new nightgown. Yay! Fourth, fifth, sixth, bobbins, thread, needles. And then, a large box appeared, seemingly out of thin air. Could it be? Was it so? I gingerly peeled off the wrapping paper, heart pounding, to reveal...."Kenmore Min-Ultra Sewing Machine." Oh joy!

It was small. It was blue. It was a sewing machine. I couldn't wait to try it out. I named her Kendra. It's a sensible name, practical for a practical machine. (One complaint - no zipper foot!) And she's most certainly a she, so I couldn't very well name her Kenny.

My first opportunity to make something came when I was back at school. While at home my mom and I figured out the basics of threading the needle, putting in the bobbin, turning it on and off, and making sure the needle worked appropriately. Once I got back to the house I shared at school I was able to get it out and actually use it. Even with my non-existent skills and no experience I still thought all I had to do was turn it on, thread the needle, put fabric down, and magically a perfectly sewn garment would appear on the other side. Not quite.

After a half-hour of trying to figure out how to thread the needle so that it stays in and another half-hour of figuring out how to make the bobbin work I finally managed to make something: a little bag out of an old t-shirt. It was not the neat and pretty vision I had, but a sloppy, lopsided, bunched up, tangled mess of fabric and thread. How disappointing!

Since then I've had to give up my dream of instant wearable works of art and start at the beginning. It's been incredibly frustrating, especially when my bobbin thread went all wonky and I thought it was broken. I took it to the Sears fix-it place, where they kept it for nearly two whole months (!!!) only to tell me there was nothing wrong with it. I still get visions of grandeur when I walk into the craft or fabric store, thinking I could make all these great items so quick and so easy.

I've learned the hard way that, as with all things worthwhile, it saves a lot of time, energy, and frustration if you take the time to start out slowly and learn the right way from the beginning. My trusty Kendra, though, has been with me every step of the way. A loyal one, she is. I went from botched-up purse to curtains. Easy enough, can't screw up too badly, great confidence booster! So I attempted a skirt from a pattern. Even though everything seemed to work out right, the skirt was way too small and the zipper had to be hand-sewn. Gross. So I attempted to make a skirt by my own pattern. Success! Leading to an attempt at making a dress by tracing a ready-to-wear dress I already owned and loved. Failure, and with expensive fabric, too.

And so it has been and continues to be. As badly as I want to crank out perfectly crafted products for myself and to share, I've had to accept that it is just a slow process and remind myself (over and over and over...) the time I take now will produce the rewards I'm so eager for in the future. Last Christmas I managed to make almost-perfect make-up bags for some friends and recently I recovered some pillows for our living room. I'm getting there!

Of course, I also managed to cut the wrong dimensions for the curtains which were supposed to go in the kitchen, making them too short and narrow. Try, try again. My Kendra and I will soldier on.