Nanny

So, I mentioned that I’ve been out of the loop the past few weeks.  One of the reasons I’ve been gone from the blog lately is that my grandma passed away about three weeks ago.  I’ve been spending a lot of time with my family, and before that I was visiting her in the hospital pretty frequently.  I was close with her–I used to call her and chat for hours.  Part of the bond we had was that we both loved sewing.

Nanny sewed so many things for me growing up.  She made the most beautiful smocked dresses…

Luckily she handed her smocking machine down to me a few years ago.  Now that my brother and his wife are expecting a girl, I need to get it out and figure out how to work it.  It does the even rows of gathering for you and then you do hand embroidery over it.  Smocked dresses are so gorgeous, and also comfortable since Nanny used elastic thread for the basting part.  If you pull on these dresses, they stretch!  Here I am with my brother in 1983 looking pretty happy about it .

She made me casual clothes, too, as I got older–shorts, skirts, skorts.  She was very handy with a serger.  But the clothes we still have are the heirloom-type things.

The blue dress was my favorite because it made me feel like Laura Ingalls Wilder wearing a pretty calico.

Nanny made many of her own clothes when she was younger, and when I was in college she gave me the handmade vintage pieces she still had.  I used one of her dresses as direct research for a costume in a play I did in Boston called Sonia Flew.  I brought the dress in and they literally took a pattern off it.

Nanny actually didn’t teach me how to sew–I learned from a combination of other family members and schoolteachers.  But I do distinctly remember sitting in her sewing room as a child.  She had a sunroom on the back of their house at Chic’s Beach fixed up as a small sewing room, complete with 13″ black-and-white TV with antenna (for viewing soap operas and This Old House).  My brother and I used to sit at her long sewing table and play or draw with Papa’s government-issued ballpoint pens when we came over.  She’d always have twinkies in the freezer for us.  And I remember thinking that sewing was interesting and cool and that I’d like to have a sewing room of my own one day.

Nanny also reminded me recently that she used to set her sewing machine up between the twin beds in the back of their Airstream trailer when they wintered in Florida.  It was a small space, but she was certainly not going to miss out on five or six months’ worth of sewing!

We talked about sewing a lot as I got older and starting making things.  Whenever I brought something over to show Nanny, she’d say, “You do beautiful work,” and it would make me feel so encouraged.  She also knew once I started sewing that I would appreciate the things she made by hand if she handed them down to me, and I think that made her feel good.  The last few times I saw her in the hospital, she asked me about my wedding dress and how it was coming along.  I honestly haven’t done as much work on it as I planned to this summer and she kept telling me, “You had better work on it–it’ll sneak up on you, and before you know it it’ll be time to walk down the aisle and you won’t have a dress!”  The weekend after she passed away, I went over to the studio and cranked out the foundation muslin and got it fitted the next week.

I’m glad she saw my dress design and swatches.  I’m glad she got to meet Jeff.  I’m glad I had all the time I had with her before she passed.  But I wish that I could still just pick up the phone and chat, gossip, and hear her advice.  I miss her very much.  I love you, Nanny.

Do you have a sewing mentor in your family?  Did anyone sew special things for you growing up?  I’d love to hear your memories of handmade things and crafty family members.

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