Back to Sewing

Words & Images by Oktaviana Kale

Magazine | Issue 03

I grew up in a house with a sewing machine probably older than myself. Living with grandparents my entire younger years, I was raised with the philosophy of self-reliance - making and repairing things instead of buying new ones. They taught me to sew my own garments and mend tears in my clothes. The younger me was not very happy with that situation. I wanted new dresses, I wanted new skirts, I wanted jeans that were not resized hand-me-downs. When I left for college, my grandma gave me a box of threads and needles, which I refused, finding it embarrassing to bring sewing kits to the city where you can just buy anything. I thought I was finally free to drown myself in a pile of new clothes and shoes, just like scenes from movies. Fast forward to now, 16 years later. I have moved back to my home village for good. My grandpa is no longer with us, and my grandma, now battling dementia, no longer recognizes me. Nevertheless, the sewing machine has stood the test of time, still functioning well despite numerous repairs. I've recently started re-learning how to sew, and it's taken me this long to embrace the values my grandparents tried to instill in me. Yes, I still buy things. I am a modern human, after all. But nothing compares to the fulfillment I experience from wearing a blouse I've sewn myself or gifting a tote bag I've crafted. The colors of rolls of threads, the texture of the heads of straight pins on the cushion, and the nostalgic clanking sound of the old sewing machine are worth all the hours of the day.