I have recently gotten into sewing. I should say that I learned when I was about 7 from my mother trying to make sure my older brother and I have spent more time learning how to ‘”take care of ourselves fully”, and so I should state that I am getting back INTO sewing. Sadly after so much time, that I had to take a class to learn how to sew. It started with a tote bag, which was the perfect item for me to learn, as I have a problem with a love and want to own many backpacks, tote bags, luggage, you name it, if its a bag, I am about it and probably have too many. So great first project to learn how to sew.
This drive to relearn started with the intention to make myself a pair of jeans since the current jeans sold in the US (for about 80 dollars a pair) shrink after a single wash, knees or inseam rip after six months; and in the span of two weeks I ended up buying 3 pairs while trying to return 2 of them because of the aforementioned above issues, just to be told that its simply not “our issue”. So congrats mom, it looks like the little nugget of getting me to be more independent took hold.
Sure, I could have bought a pair of Japanese denim jeans for close to a couple hundred dollars, or for just a little less than that, buy the old 1980s Japanese made Kenmore Sears edition sewing machine. So why not give it the old college try? Why not ensure that once I get a chance to make a solid pair of jeans, I have the ability to continually make them from then on. Customizing them how I want when I want.
But here I am, almost a year back into sewing and while not giving it a run everyday, I did bring my sewing machine down to Mexico with me to continue this hobby and my learning on sewing. While I have been at it, I have recognized a kind of culture in it that is definitely something fun and wholesome. Its been cool to look into the younger individuals outside of what you might consider being your “standard age for sewer” and see the items people create, post, share, and teach when it comes to the art and lifestyle of sewing.
One thing I have realized though, is as I have been slowly outfitting my sewing gear, I have been leaning on more things that can only be deemed as ‘Grandma Core’. Sure, my standard pin cushion shown above is a slight deviation off the curve of ‘Standard’, but the other day my brain completely shifted gears.
While at the grocery store I saw a tin of tea cookies and my brain was made up. I wanted that tin. I did not care about the cookies inside but I wanted the green and white tin with the little birds on it for my sewing gear. Currently, most my tools sits in a plastic quart container and or plastic bin with lid, and sure it looks maybe ‘hobbie-esk’ to the random passer by, but cute or appealing it is not. My tools simply read ‘I am used to do X thing’. Sure, that is fine, but I even recall my toolbox for my wood working shop. It was mine and I had built it with love and care and with woods I liked and metal I bent and polished by hand, and it read less ‘tools for tools sake’ and more ‘I am passionate about my craft. So I guess thats what I felt the moment I saw the tin. It feels ever so appropriate for sewing gear, does it not? Given the years as a kid I was fooled into a sense of hope those tins brought with the possibilities of cookies behind the metal lid. Just to find scraps of fabric. Who has not been fooled by the tin of cookies filled with other things. But for me, it no longer felt that way when looking at the tin of cookies on that shelf.
That worry does not need to be. For when and if I get a chance to crack that tin, one of two things are to be. One, I might find cookies, something all people tend to love. Or two, I find that which I have come to love. Pins, scissors, and threads that have helped me build so many fun things. A passion for my work.
*A part of me wonders if the reason our Grandparents used tins was because they looked beautiful. Even if left out on the counter, needles and scraps of fabric and scissors could look good, and not like some pile of junk to say someone who has unexpectedly come over and looked at your counter. Or maybe they just liked them because of what they looked like. I will report back in a few years when my tin pile gets more rounded out.
Casual Entropy 
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