I have created and made things for all of my life. I grew up with parents who were the archetypal 1970s parents modelling their life on the dream of the TV show "The Goodlife." I wore homemade dungarees, helped pod the peas and my dad made me a climbing frame out of drain pipes. This meant I grew up with the mindset that I could make and do things. But when I reflect on my siblings and those around me, I realise that it was not this alone that took me on my lifelong journey of creativity.
As a young adult, I quickly fell into the trap, which in the modern day is called a side hustle, of monetising my hobbies. If you can make it, you can make money. For more than a decade, I made and sold jewellery, first at my local library and then wherever I found the opportunity. Then, I made one-off bags and later textile art for the wall or as a memory book. At no time did I ever question what I was doing. In a way, I would swap from one technique to another, monetising where I could to fund the creation.
Through all of this, I dabbled in making my own clothes, curtains, cushions and other items. Sometimes I would pick up a Big 4 pattern and try my best to follow along. Other times, I would wing it and bring an idea to life with varying levels of success. However, I never imagined after all these decades of making, would I would find so much growth and fulfilment as in the last 4 years.
Much of this began when I went through an extremely challenging time when I could not work. I had been a teacher straight out of university and had worked non-stop from then. Evenings were for recovering, weekends were for planning and squeezing in family time. All of my making had been jammed into the school holidays alongside the work that still needed doing. Suddenly, I was unable to work and had endless days of waiting to fill. I began with watching one sewing channel on Youtube, where I realised there were other pattern companies. Then I watched more. I bought my first independent pattern and realised I could make tricky things and clothes that actually fit. And then came the biggest moment of growth in my creative life.
"You don't have to monetize your joy," says Molly Conway
That this was about the journey, not the production of things. That I could become absorbed in the feel of the fabric as it passed through the machine; that hours spent laying out fabric choices were not wasted; and that a non-wearable toile was a wonderful thing. I resisted the urge to monetise my hobby and to revel in the making of a practice welt pocket that was alone on a solo piece of fabric never destined to be included in a finished item.
Two and a half years ago, I decided it was time to create my own Youtube channel - I wanted to give back to the community as they had given to me during my difficult times. Unknown to me, this process of recording and talking about my makes would be the next challenge to my growth journey. I found I had to work hard to resist the idea that I needed to produce something each week to make sure I had something to share with my audience. Watching other sewing channels, I pondered whether I could show up in the space if I had not made or bought something. I quickly noticed I could end up trapped on a conveyor belt of make, film, edit, share, shop, make, film, edit, share, shop ad infinitum.
At times, I have been accused of overthinking. Honestly, my response is always to let others know that they need not worry as I am proud of my soul searching. In this moment I realised what could become of my relationship with sewing if I continued in this manner on Youtube. Surely there was a way to resist this conveyor belt. Some of this began to take form in the wonderful ideas that my viewers shared in the comments. Making suggestions and spurring my ideas. Some of it came from attending and then setting up my own monthly sewing social event (more on this later).
I used my channel as a place to ponder out loud, to question what I made and wore and if it was working for me and why I did not wear certain clothes. I pushed myself to develop the transition from production to exploration and this has been a profound part of my growth. This took many forms, but included:
Embracing the "Why", not just the "How": Instead of merely following pattern instructions, I now delve into the principles behind design and construction. Why is this dart placed here? Why does this seam finish work best for this fabric? It's about building a deeper understanding, not just rote execution.
Experimentation over perfection: Swatches, mock-ups, and even "scrap-busting" now become mini-experiments in themselves.
Pattern as a starting point: Patterns are no longer strict blueprints, but springboards for creative thought. I'm constantly asking: how can I modify this? Can I combine elements from different patterns? Could I add a yoke? This mindset has opened up endless possibilities for unique, personalised designs.
Loving my mistakes: What once felt like a failure is now an invaluable learning opportunity. A misaligned seam or a fabric that didn't behave as expected prompts me to research, troubleshoot, but also sometimes to let the mistake become a feature of the garment.
This April, I took this idea to the point where I decided that for the Sew April Blouse Challenge, I would focus solely on making, exploring and hacking blouses for the whole month. As usual, my wonderful viewers gave me ideas I would never have thought of. They sent me pictures of amazing sleeves, challenged me to hack an inset sleeved top into a drop shoulder and create my own tulip sleeve pattern. In March, I had made the Twig + Tale Vista Top for the first time and I also bought the Sprig Sleeve add-on at the same time. What a wonderful starting point this became. Using the Vista Top as a base, I then started to explore the book Mad About Sleeves.
If you had asked me several years ago, I would never have thought I would be the person sat enjoying tracing multiple copies of a sleeve piece from wrapping paper and joyously using a ruler to draw many lines, splitting a sleeve to create a voluminous bishop sleeve.
The final sleeve I created during April was a pleated tulip sleeve. I used a beautifully soft Indian block print fabric. During the blouse exploration, not everything went to plan, but I no longer see these as failures. They are part of the joyous process. My first tulip sleeve was too short, the initial dropped shoulder top was too tight.
But the growth as a sewist - and as a person - I gained by stepping out from the pattern base and taking safe risks is so important to me. I am in my sewing world where mistakes are growth and no harm comes. I know some might say it is wasted time, but it truly is not. I have had time to use the creative part of my brain, I have had me time and been able to enjoy the journey. Outside, the world may feel hard and worrisome, but in my sewing room I can choose my journey. I get to develop resilience in a safe bubble and rehearse the mantras I need for when life throws those big challenges my way.
"Progress not perfection"
"My project is a journey, not a race"
I notice I have become more patient in every area of my life, from enjoying the use of my seam ripper to dealing with non-sewing challenges at work. I have become loudly passionate that all bodies are good bodies and recently danced in my knickers on Instagram and shared pictures of the fit of a pair of knickers I sewed on Youtube. This stemmed from feeling able to release the 1990s mantras I grew up with around body shapes and rules, the more I sewed my own clothes. I no longer worry about whether I should, but instead do I want to. I sew for comfort and joy and most of all for myself, both practically and mentally. I appreciate that dancing in your underwear is not for everyone, but the growth I have experienced on all levels led me to a point where I felt it was important to ensure others get to see true representations of middle aged bodies on social media.
When reflecting on my growth as a sewist, I also need to consider how this has led to deep personal growth. During the difficult time when I could not work, I took a vow that I did not want it to change me and to lose my softness and become cynical about the world. When difficult things happen, we can often feel isolated. I once read something that Derren Brown wrote, which said we can choose to control the narrative of our story. Setting up my Youtube channel and Sewing Social was the start of me reaching out, connecting myself with the world. I have grown so much as a person in finding true friendship, celebrating and commiserating with others and most of all, not sitting waiting for life to come to me. It has been a challenging road, but I am so grateful to those who reached back when I reached out. I feel more fulfilled than at any other time in my life, yet it has and is also the most challenging times I have experienced.
This shift has made my hobby more enriching, and infinitely more creative. I feel like a scientist in a lab, and when asked recently, "what will you do when you have sewn your whole wardrobe?", my response was that I can never see me being done! Growth has come in many forms, I have learnt many new skills, can name fabrics from 3 metres, but most of all I endlessly ask what if and I wonder if I could?
When I originally offered to write this post, I thought it would be about how to create different sleeves, but as in all forms of growth, we often need to follow the path in which the exploration takes us. However, if you do wish to find out more about the technicalities, you can find a whole playlist here: Sequingirlie Blouse Series
Next time you are making a pattern, I challenge you to wonder: Could I make this in a different kind of fabric that what it was designed for? Could I add my own sleeve design?What if I combined two patterns together?
