Do You Remember That Sewing Class?!

A little video popped up, "Do you remember that seventh grade sewing class where they taught you how to do things that you would never ever need to know how to do?"

Yes, I remember sewing classes in school, and yes, I remember them being desperately unhelpful. However, I was approaching it from the other side. I wanted to learn more, I wanted to do more, and the word 'more' is very important.

My Mam was a needlework teacher, and I arrived in class already knowing quite a lot from the things my Mam and I had made at home. We had taken the time to choose a pattern, fabric, thread and buttons for the skirt I wanted to make. It was a simple design, but it was a style I liked and wanted to wear.

It soon became obvious the teacher was going to make the garment construction last at least a full half term. I wanted to wear my new skirt tomorrow! 

After two weeks of virtually no progress, I took the skirt home and finished it there. For week three, I wore the skirt to class, and took in a new part-finished skirt, and worked on it in class. The teacher did not notice. So, for week four, I wore the skirt from week three, and started a new skirt, but chose a radically different colour and style. In week five, we were told our work would be graded the following week, and we needed to have it finished by then.

Dutifully, in week six, I wore one of the skirts, and brought in the two others I'd made in class. The teacher was not impressed when two skirts were on the table, and was even less impressed when I said there was also the skirt I was wearing. She examined the red skirt and said it was 'Wrong'. I asked for clarification. Apparently the pattern didn't have pockets and my skirt did, therefore it was 'wrong'.

I tried to explain that my Mam was a needlework teacher, and I'd been sewing since I was four. I was used to making the garments I wanted, rather than just following the pattern. One of the girls said, "Is your Mam Mrs Johnston?  She was my teacher last year! She's really nice." Turns out only 2 girls in the class had not been taught by my Mam at some point. 

The teacher decided to increase my grade, which was rather nice, but she killed my love of sewing for a good few years.