As you probably have noticed, I've done a lot of sewing these past few weeks. Traditionally, this time of year is so focused on knitting for me - in front of the fire, staying cozy. But as my grandmother - the very one who taught me how to sew - was fading, I felt myself pulled to the studio and my machine almost constantly. I spent an afternoon with my Nana last week, and in a moment of amazing lucidity, we had a conversation that I'll never forget as long as I live (and I can only hope and dream to have similar clear and real conversations at the end of my own life). I was able to not only tell her I loved her, but to thank her for all the things she taught me. That moment was such a blessing, such a gift. And I went home, tearful and happy and sad too, and straight to my sewing machine once again. It has been the way I've been able to connect to her, remember her, and comfort myself, in these past few weeks. Sewing day and night whenever I had an extra moment - with children at my feet/on my lap/in my ear, and sometimes without. Just the thing I needed to be doing.
And as a result...I've got a whole lot of newly stitched clothing around here. A lot for the kids, some of which you've seen. And some for me too, which honestly is more needed than the clothes for the littles, who have plenty. My body - as many of you might well understand - is changing of late. After fourteen years of pregnancy and breastfeeding and carrying a baby or a toddler on my back or in a sling or on my hip....my body is, once again, all my own. The thing is, it is quite entirely a different body than before all that, because nearly forty years old is very different than the early twenties. I've been thinking about this a lot, and talking about it a lot with friends as well - of the same age and in the same position. I'm currently reading Women In Clothes and fascinated by it. I think it truly reflects the diversity of thought that we, as women, have about our clothing and our changing bodies....and interestingly, other women's bodies too. A similar diversity of thought, opinion and emotion is reflected in the comments here each time I post a photograph of something I've made for myself. Flattering, gentle, kind, opinionated, and sometimes emotionally charged. We do have strong feelings about clothing, don't we? Or rather, the bodies that the clothing is covering? Why do we care so much what other women wear? What we wear, even? And what exactly does 'flattering' mean, anyway? So different for us all - and I have to believe our opinions on the matter are as beautifully different as we all are.
Forgive my all-over-the-place thoughts about this rather huge subject, but this is something that has been on my mind a lot of late and I don't think I'm done thinking and talking about it quite yet. I don't know precisely where I'm going with all of this today, except to say that recently I made myself some new shirts. The tanks are Wiksten Tanks and the shirt is a Scout Tee (lengthened a bit). I like them all very much. The fabrics feel good, and I chose some of my favorite prints. I am comfortable wearing these. And just like the dress I made last week, I feel like 'me' when I wear them. And sometimes, well, sometimes it's just as simple as that.