Tag - Bernina

I don’t remember what I made, but I do remember the process.  Or at least, I remember what I disliked about it.  The measuring, the tailor’s tacks, the ironing of narrow seams.  In short, my mom tried to teach me how to sew and I really, really, didn’t want to learn. I was the teenage daughter of an exquisite seamstress:  she made her own wedding dress.  She helped sew bridesmaid’s dresses for her sister.  She painstakingly pieced together, with her two equally talented sisters, a quilt for their parents.  My mom grew up sewing.  And thought I should, too.