In the eighth grade we alternated between sewing and cooking class.
Mrs. Johnson taught us how to read a pattern and the cooking teacher
taught us how to make glazed carrots. I did not sew again till after
I married. I made many a matching dresses and jumpers for my girls.
Then someone gave me a pattern for myself. So, I made a blue jean dress .
While I was making it I never noticed it looking overly large. By the time I completed
that dress, it was huge. It would have easily fit a person three times
my size. I tried cinching it with a belt to take in some of the extra
material. There was no smalling it down to size for me.
I didn’t want to admit defeat. I was impressed with the way the
collar and cuffs and button holes turned out. Maybe, if I knew more
about sewing, I could have altered it to fit. But I did not.
I hung it in the back of the closet.
Now when I think of the word pattern, I think of how much life seems
to follow a pattern, and when it does not, it is a bit like my oversized dress.
It’s too big for me, and I want to hang it in the back of the closet.
