We're so pleased to welcome Storyteller Anja Hausen to the Twig + Tale blog this month, sharing her reflections on how the theme Heirloom relates to her sewing.
Anja beautifully captures the push and pull between creativity and parenthood, the balance between perfectionism and the freedom of "now or never" sewing, and the desire to create garments that will be worn and loved for a long time.
When I was expecting my first born, I could feel the transition from having all of my time for myself, to having it heavily and lovingly hoarded by my then soon-to-be-born child. I knew that soon I would have very limited and sparse time for my creative projects, yet I still grappled with procrastination and perfection, and had a bit of a difficult time focusing on and pursuing my creative urges. I would not get many handicrafts done, especially sewing, as I had not done a lot of that as an adult and felt it a bit daunting to be honest. If I even mustered the courage to start, I would mostly do simpler projects, and easily feel overwhelmed. I would frankly often just give up without hesitation when facing even a smaller mental or practical obstacle, and end up hiding the half done project in a basket under the sofa so I would not have to see or think about it any longer.
As a child I had no problems starting and finishing different kinds of sewing projects, even if the end result wasn't always the neatest. My mother was a seamstress working from home at the time, and I have clear memories of being allowed to use her sewing machine very freely. I was nervous to have someone see what or how I was making something, but I had no problems starting. I had clear visions, no patterns, and not that much skill, but a lot of determination, and somehow things sometimes worked (though maybe mostly not). For example, I successfully made a leather quiver for arrows to play an elf in the forest (a case made of leather scraps around a Pringles can), but unfortunately, my pair of elf boots didn’t really turn out that usable.
Whenever I would accidentally break the needle or mess up the threads, I could just quietly leave it for my mother to fix, and she never got angry, but just put in a new needle or rethreaded. I have a hard time imagining letting almost anyone use any of my sewing machines, but my mother confirmed that she indeed let me sew quite freely after I had practiced a lot under her guidance, just sewing slowly (her machine had a slower speed setting available) and many, many meters of straight seam. I also knew not to even think about touching her industrial serger!
Handicrafts, sewing, knitting, woodworking etc, have been a very valued and practised skill in my family and previous generations, and I have always identified as a crafter. But as school, then high school and university got more intensive, my crafting time was something I for some reason mostly cut out. As my time became governed by other demands, I only committed to sporadic crafting every now and then, and this perhaps led to feeling the lack of skill more strongly than the skill and creativity I actually did have.
Even when I did have the time and supplies to do something, my projects would somehow feel not unique or creative enough, not ecological enough, somehow just not enough, so it was difficult to even start, try and keep going because the end result might not be totally perfect. I had very high standards on all possible fronts, which made me freeze and avoid trying.
Since becoming a mother, the limited time and opportunity has actually been very inspiring and freeing for me. If I want to get anything done, craft now or never, and maybe it won’t turn out perfect but it won’t hurt to try. And at least it will be fun to learn; perfection and procrastination must be left behind! There is also a new inspiration to make things for the children and coming generations, something that might be cherished not only by me, but by them (and maybe even their children or other loved ones) as well. It is empowering to dare, try out my visions, and let my children see me learn and do difficult, new things. Not every project turns out perfect or even good, but it is not so serious anymore. Failed attempts are not the end of the world.
There is definitely joy in creating and crafting together with your children (or other dear ones), but also creating without them on your own or with friends, without distractions. Many of my sewing projects have been done with a baby or a toddler asleep, or awake observing, on my back in a baby wrap, hoping they don’t get bored too soon. Some are done with children playing around, some with a 4-year-old helping in my lap. Working on a sewing project and moving about the sewing table drawing patterns, cutting fabrics and so on has been very refreshing in between breastfeeding naps, trying to keep the children fed and hanging washed baby nappies.
Sometimes it feels difficult to find the time and bandwidth for sewing as a mother of young children, but I also find it valuable to show and appreciate my dedication and passion for handicrafts and my own creativity. The moments to work on my projects with no distractions are rare but oh so blissful, in the evenings (and nights…) when children are hopefully mostly sleeping, or when the baby is outside having her long nap in the stroller and older ones are at school and daycare. Maybe they too, as my university housemate told me when I asked if it is ok to use the sewing machine late in the night, will have a lulled feeling to the sound of a sewing machine, as his mother also sewed on the nights when he was a child and found the sound soothing still as an adult.
What I wish to pass down to the coming generations is the skill, and maybe even more so the will and determination to craft, create, and appreciate. With quality materials and timeless designs, maybe at least some of the pieces I create might stand the test of time and wear, and be considered an heirloom. I am very fascinated and proud as my daughter is always so excited and appreciative, especially of things made of wool. Though maybe it is not a wonder, as her godmother has the sweetest three heritage Åland sheep that my daughter gets to help care for and spend time with as we visit, and she even got a small piece of their wool for a mattress for her toy kitten (also felted from wool) when we last visited. She also always sees me gushing over and knitting from different stunning wool yarns and sewing with beautiful wool fabrics, and is always so excited and proud to present again and again her woollen clothes and the toy kitten's mattress with beautiful curls: “This is so warm as it is wooollen!”.
The Traveller Capes presented in the following photos are made for our three children (the biggest one worn by my husband as the 9-year-old wasn’t at home for the photoshoot), and I really hope they will be cherished for a long time. They can easily be worn even by adults and really seem perfect for wearing on the chilly summer nights that we often spend camping and sitting by the fire in the forest. They also provide so many different play opportunities from prince and princess to elves and ninjas, wizards and witches and hobbits, and they camouflage to sand or moss in the forest. (By the way, the colour of the smaller capes was chosen so that they cannot camouflage too well in the green forest scenery we mostly spend our summer nights in! And the green colour for the biggest cape was chosen by the 9-year-old himself - I bet he will be so excited for his camouflaging opportunity...)
Letting the children who you are making for take part in making or choosing elements (colours, patterns, details) for their pieces can make them more attached, as it feels more of their own. Though sometimes, it can be more fun to make surprises specially for them (with their preferences in mind), and maybe also extend their taste a little bit and offer something that might have not been their first choice in the moment, but in time might be more neutral or special and get a longer lifespan. When creating handmade pieces that you want to be appreciated for a longer time, a certain balance of neutrality and bold statements can be fun to consider. And of course there is never a guarantee that any piece will be cherished as an heirloom, but it is still worth giving the pieces you make a potential for that! (And also no pressure and feel free to move on to the next project if something doesn’t turn out as well as you wished for!)
The capes are made of boiled wool with a cotton lining and a secret pocket each, and the Rainhaven Overalls are made of boiled wool and softshell scraps. I have carved the buttons on the capes from avocado seeds (let the seeds dry kind of leather hard before carving them, then carve them as you like, taking into account that they shrink quite a bit as they dry, and then let them dry hard), and the big round button on the green cape is made of stone. I am thankful for my daughter for teaching me to dare use the fancy ribbon (and fabric) and not just hoarding it forever waiting until I am a better sewer, or for a more important project, which might never come.
Parenthood and crafting is sometimes an exhausting but really beautiful combination. What a stunning gift it is to have your 9-year-old stepson always choose to wear the clothes that I have made for him when he can, and to keep on the cape (with a cool button) for most of the day just because! I will enjoy it while it lasts!
