I've been in a bit of a creative shlump lately. I went through all of my fabric and rid myself of the tiny scraps I convinced myself I could make something with, folded and sorted remnants and yardage, and became re-aquainted with this little plaid gal.
I met this fabric in my Grandmother's stash that she has long since given up busting. I had no plans for it at the time, but as I encountered it again, I was reminded of one of my favorite moments with my Grandmother.
She had come to visit my family in Maine and found that I had been trying my hand at sewing (I was 15 at the time) she patiently, but effectively --as is her way-- sat me down and helped me make the black and white plaid pencil skirt I had been attempting. We finished it, working into the late hours of the evening, only to find out that it was about 2 sizes too small.
Defeated, we said goodnight and I drudged off to my room only to wake the next morning to find an identical (although 2 sizes bigger) plaid skirt, skillfully cut from the remaining fabric. She had stayed up by herself into the morning and finished a second skirt so that I could wear it to the dance that night.
This memory of my Grandmother is not one of my favorite simply because she made me a skirt, but I was taught in that moment a lesson on service and perseverance.
As I find myself sewing, measuring and pleating this plaid beauty from her personal stash, I can't help but feel a little connected to her and hope that in some small way, I am like her.
It's been the perfect motivation.