This year, we’ve been celebrating twenty years in business, something we couldn’t do without our sewing machines. From the modern workhorses running in my studio today all the way back to where it all started, I wouldn’t be here today without them.
The last two decades have been filled with incredible clients, late nights, more yards of fabric than I could ever count, and a constant hum of sewing machines. But if you know more about me, you know that sound echoes even further back, to my childhood. Because before there was a workroom, before there were designers calling, and projects to install, there was a little girl in a house full of kids, begging to try her mother’s sewing machine.
My Mom’s Machine
My parents got married in 1966, and one of the first things they did with their wedding money was buy a sewing machine. A proper one, with a table, drawers, and a lid that flipped down so it looked like a piece of furniture. It was technically the first brand-new piece of furniture they ever owned together. For a young couple without a lot of money, that meant something. They even engraved my dad’s social security number on the underside because back then, that’s what you did with something valuable.And it was valuable, because my mom was going to need it. She ended up sewing for twelve kids.
What She Made, and What I Learned Watching Her
Some of my clearest early memories are of my mom at that machine. She stayed up all night on Christmas Eve once sewing matching outfits for the five oldest of us, just so we’d have something adorable to wear in the morning photo under the tree. Tired the next day, running on pure determination. I completely understand that now. I’ve pulled my own late nights to meet a deadline, and the drive to finish something, to see it through no matter what; that part I definitely inherited.
She didn’t let us touch the machine, of course. She gave us her scrap pile and taught us to hand stitch instead. I made doll clothes, Barbie bedding, little pillows. And I begged her, repeatedly, to let me use the real thing. I finally wore her down at seven years old, right as she was heading to the hospital to have my brother Tim. She was tired of me asking, and said yes. That was all I needed to hear. I made what I generously called a quilt out of a pile of fabric squares. Seeing it now, I realize it was much too small for a real baby, but it was meant for my new brother, and I was so proud of it.
From Baby Quilts to Turtle Pillows to Actual Patterns
I didn’t stop there. By seventh grade home ec I was already ahead of the curve, my mom had taught me to follow a pattern long before school did. I made a turtle pillow in class and came home and made a whole little family of baby turtle pillows from the scraps. By eighth grade I was making vests and sweatshirts and genuinely loving every minute of it.
I stepped away for a while after that. High school, a career, life. But the foundation was already there, stitched in early, on that very machine. Eventually I came back to it, found my way into this industry, and the rest is twenty years of history.
That first machine started everything for me. But it wasn’t the last one to leave a mark.Next month on the blog, I’m introducing you to another very special machine, one that was handed down to me by my husband’s Aunt Lil, and the story behind it is one I can’t wait to share.
Want to see what twenty years of craft looks like in action? Follow along on Instagram for a behind the scenes look at the work we do every day at Stitch Above the Rest.
A Bay Window Roman Shade You Won’t Find Anywhere Else
