I went to a tiny high school. There were only nine in my graduating class. All the girls had to take four years of Home Economics, the boys four years of agriculture. I benefited from the sewing instruction. I was horrified to learn what my sewing project was to be my senior year. We were to make a fully-lined wool tailored suit with lapels, welt pockets, bound buttonholes, and set in sleeves. The skirt had side pockets and a set-in waistband. The other concern was the extreme cost of the fabric. I’d never sewn fabric that expensive, not to mention it would be an extreme stressor to my family’s budget. Somehow, they came up with enough money, forty-five dollars.
I was terrified to put scissors to the fabric. I measured, pinned, remeasured, and could finally could put off the cutting no longer. I had the teacher check every step. Each day, I folded every precious piece carefully and put it in my sewing box, terrified one would slip into the trash and doom my project.
My anxiety increased exponentially when my friend, Mary, folded her scissors inside her jacket pieces. She was devastated the next morning to unpack her project and found her scissors had cut a one inch slash in the right front portion of her jacket. Naturally, she was distraught. The whole class was traumatized, seeing her disaster. She had no extra fabric.
The teacher comforted her, assured Mary there was a solution, and showed us all the pattern could easily be altered to put a pocket with a flap on both sides of the jacket. The change actually was more attractive than the original design.
That lesson amazed me, increasing my confidence. I was able to go forward with less reassurance, competing my project with pride. I wore that suit with confidence. It was one of the nicer outfits I ever owned. Mary’s suit turned out beautifully as well.
From that point forward, I knew that if I didn’t have the skills I needed, I could research and get the information I needed. Sewing has served me well. I bought a sewing machine and made everything the children and I wore until peer pressure made them insist on name brand clothes.

This is the exact pattern I used.
I love this post so much. My mother used to make our clothes, such pretty things, until, like your children, peer pressure demanded store bought. I never quite caught onto sewing anything too complicated and really admire those who can :)
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I am glad I learned under a master.
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I remember making a shirt in Home Ec. It was so bad. I had to have my grandmother help me fix it
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Good you had someone who could. I wonder why your teacher didn’t help more? Maybe the class was too big.
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Yes we had a big class
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I was lucky to be in a very small class. My teacher was able to give us a lot of time.
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My Granny made all of my clothes for a long time, again it was time to wear clothes that looked like the other students. I loved everything she made. I still have a black velvet dress she made me when I was very young.
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I love your Granny. Your stories make her come alive. She is still helping people through you today.
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She sure is, I would not be alive today if she didn’t fight so hard for me.
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Some of the bravest and best people go little noted. I’ll bet she would have hated a fuss.
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I can’t imagine making anything remot..ely like that…
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I really worked hard on it. Before I got it finished I started stressing that it might not fit. Fortunately, my teacher had shown us how to measure for a perfect fit. She was a wonderful. I wonder if she knows I am still grateful? She’d be well into her eighties.
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I’ll bet your teacher would love to hear you say this…..:)
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I wonder if I could ever find her. I will try.
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