It all started one cold (for California at least) January day, when I was on a 6-week break from nursing school. I was sitting in the living room of my apartment with my roommates, lamenting the fact that I had loads of time and not one single hobby to fill it.
You see, I grew up with a dad who collects. Comics, silly Seattle Mariner's bobble heads, Washington fruit labels, and most importantly, my dad is a connoisseur of coins. He has his own web site dedicated solely to something called a short snorter. If you don't know what that is (and you probably don't), you can read about it here (shout out to my dad!): http://www.shortsnorter.org/
I think one of the things he appreciates most about short snorters, is that there's always such an interesting and often incredible story about the person who previously owned it. My dad has shared story upon story with me (and anyone else who will listen) about the people he has met and spent time with, and the stories they have shared. Growing up in this environment, I started to gain an appreciation for these kind of things too, and this soon translated into seeking out vintage and antique things -- mostly furniture and clothing.
So, when it came time for me to get a hobby, rather than collecting something (I was too afraid of becoming a hoarder....I hate that show -- and love it at the same time), I decided that I would be better off making things that wouldn't just sit in a corner collecting dust. After hours of deliberating, I decided to buy a sewing machine. I thought that I would learn to sew small things to start off -- pillows, maybe progressing to a dress or something worth showing off to my friends and family. I turned to Craigslist as the preferred method of finding such an instrument of creativity. Within 30 minutes I had found it. A Singer sewing machine, residing a mere 20 minutes from my apartment, labeled as "the perfect machine for beginners," and more importantly, only $60. I wouldn't be breaking the bank with this purchase. I e-mailed the owner, and within a week, I had my sewing machine.
Bringing it home for the first time was a little intimidating. Luckily, there was a manual included. After three hours spent at my kitchen table trying to figure out what the heck a bobbin was and how to make a perfect stitch, my machine was threaded and ready to go. I had stopped at JoAnn's on my way home from buying my machine to purchase fabric. Thankfully, I figured out after only 20 minutes of aimless wandering that I had to go to the cut table to get my fabric cut, after which I spent even more time trying to figure out how much fabric to get, and then there was buying more bobbins, thread, and buttons. With what I considered to be a somewhat excellent purchase of supplies. I started on my first project -- an apron. I figured that this was an easy way to being this new hobby, and boy was I right. I found a love for aprons, inspired by the vintage feel of the 50s and 60s (think Lucille Ball making breakfast for Desi Arnaz in every singe episode of "I Love Lucy"). After some practice and a lot of help and advice from my grandma, I was able to open an Etsy shop an mere three months later. Those first sales were some of the most exciting experiences I have ever had.
I find sewing a rewarding and enjoyable hobby, one which I am glad I chose so haphazardly. I don't sell my aprons with the goal of profiting from them, but rather because I don't want (or need) thousands of aprons breaking the hooks in my kitchen. I also figured that there are others out there that like the same things I do and would appreciate the inspiration behind them.
So there you have it.
