My Road to Becoming a Seamstress

Hi again,

I haven't written a story for almost a month!

Denver, Co. - 1969 - 3rd grade?

I got a little sewing machine (my first) for Christmas.  It was a 2 toned powdery blue color and it was electric.  I was super excited.  Eventually, my mom tried to teach me how to sew on it.
I don't know what the problem was but we could never get the tension right and the stitches were always loose!  It made me so mad.  I knew I could use it if it would just work right!  It never did.....and I don't know what ever happened to it.  (This might have been the same year we crashed our car and I lost my embroidery thread in the glovebox).

7th grade - Broomfield - 1973 or 4?
I am taking "home economics" in school.  In sewing class, I made this big grey velour stuffed mouse with a long tail.  My brothers named it PB and would swing it around by the tail and let it go.  It would fly through the room.  I don't know whatever happened to PB either.

The next year (8th grade) my best friend was this little Italian girl (she was one of the 4 cheerleaders in a previous story).  She had a hard time fitting into "teenage" sized clothes, so her mom always had this seamstress come over to fix them for her.  I didn't realize that you could fix things.  She would pin out sections, etc.....
A girl in our neighborhood had a mom that sewed clothes for her and her sisters too (cool looking halter tops and stuff).  I couldn't believe that she made these things either.
I continued to take sewing in school.
My mom and I went to the fabric store.  We got 2 colors of denim fabric for pants, and a polka dot print for a top that would match the denim.
She was a Mary Kay Cosmetic consultant at the time.  She had to go to Texas for the weekend for a big meeting or something.  (She helped do the make up for the Miss Colorado pageant in 73 or 74 when Rebecca Ann King won.  The next year Rebecca Ann King won Miss USA!)  Right on!
Anyway, my mom left for the weekend meeting.  I was impatient and decided to cut out and sew the pants and top myself.  I knew I could do it.....
I'm not sure what happened, but somehow I really messed up.  When my mom got home she looked at it....We ended up pitching everything.
Was it that bad?

I'm not sure when I finally excelled at sewing - maybe in early high school.  I had a job at a cleaners where I did the alterations and mending.  I was there for 5 years.  After I left there, I went to a cool clothing store in downtown Portland (it is closed now) and got a job as a seamstress.  Two Italian women were the head seamstresses - my mentors.  They were so cool and so were the clothes we worked on. They sold Chester Barrie suits $$$, Escada gowns $$$, etc..... Rosa - with red hair was from Northern Italy, Maria - with jet Black hair was from Southern Italy.  I learned a bunch from them.  The first thing I had to "alter" was this dark green ball gown with green feathers that were molded to make the sleeves.  I had to hem the bottom of the dress.  Nice!  That was so awesome.....
A year or two later, the store closed for good.

Someone convinced me to (and helped me) open an alteration shop in this cool little mall.  My space was 800 sq. ft. and rent was 10% of my sales per month.  Score!  I did a great business and had it for about 6 years.......that was a long time ago.

Today, I am kind of a master seamstress/tailor.  Who would have guessed that I would be able to sew like all of those women.

I have made all kinds of things.....clothes, a few wedding dresses, sheets for bunks on boats
(I wouldn't mind making a set of sheets for Johnathan Hillstrands' bunk on the Time Bandit!!), etc.
I have two wedding dresses here at home to fix right now.  One for a fitting this Sunday (wedding Aug. 20th), and the other for a September wedding.  I made a "festive" bridal veil for the bride at her shower a few weeks ago (at Skamania Lodge).  It was really pretty but "bad" at the same time......
I am wondering if there is a market for these things?
Last month I fixed 3 pairs of my brothers' Carhartt Work Overalls.  There were holes and split seams.  I patched them all up.  For a surprise, I sewed a little waving monkey patch inside the bib on one pair, little hearts and flowers in random places (inside pockets, etc).  One had a Trout fish patch.  He eventually noticed some of the flowers and said "What are you - a fricken flower child"?  I laughed and asked him if he saw the monkey.  He hadn't but when he did I think he liked it.....the fish too.  It's not like I put them all over the outside for everyone at work to see.......(he is a 260 lb guy.....)

Anyway - that is my story tonight. Hope you all have a good weekend.  I will be sewing.


: )  MF

My First Pair of Levis

Hey,

I became obsessed with graph paper in 1st grade, (Blessed Sacrament - Denver, CO - 1960's).  Our art project was to make a picture by coloring different squares in graph paper.  I loved art class, graph paper and coloring with markers (I still do today).  I got some money from my dad so I could buy more graph paper from the school store........I could have some for home.

A few years later.....

3rd grade - still in Denver.  My mom takes my 3 brothers and I to Target.  I bought a few different colors of embroidery thread and a little package of flower heat transfers to use as a pattern to embroider something.  I was learning to sew and I couldn't wait to try them out when we got home.

We were on our way home in a beige Volkswagon Stationwagon.  My mom decided to take the back way.  She drove up this steep hill that had a stop light at the top.  The light was green.  She couldn't tell if traffic was coming in the opposite direction or not (they were also at the top of the hill on their side).

She took a left.

I remember seeing this station wagon coming right at us.  I froze and couldn't scream or even shout.

Wham!! 

They hit us.  Our car spun around and ended up on the side of the road - maybe in a ditch (not sure).  My mom was knocked unconscious.  The 4 of of us kids were okay for the most part. My oldest brother was bleeding - his left eyelid was cut clear up to his eyebrow.  The ambulance came and loaded all of us in it with our mom.  She had 'come to' and as we were getting into the ambulance said "This is kind of fun huh?"

The police called my dad and he came to the hospital.  He held my brothers hand while they stitched his eyelid.  My brother was freaking out.

Anyway - our car got totaled (what's new) and my embroidery thread and little pattern were left inside the glove box.  I never got them back and it always bothered me.
The lady next door made us a "get well" cake and put these big Elephant sugar cookies (with light pink icing on them) all around the cake and on the top.  They were my favorite cookie and I wish they still made them today.

A few years later in 6th grade (in Broomfield, CO), I wanted a pair of Levis so bad.  Everyone at school wore them - there was this one girl that had tons of them!  Every time you turned around she had a new pair on.  We didn't have much money but at some point I got a pair.  Eventually they wore out.....I cut them off into shorts.  I bought a bunch of embroidery thread (tons of colors), some flower heat transfers, and some sewing needles.

We were on the road again, moving back to Oregon (or Washington).  I sat in the back seat with my brothers (our little sister was up front with our parents).  I used a hard surface (probably a book) to set my shorts on.  I drew squares all over the back of the shorts.  Lines on the pockets and misc. stuff everywhere.  The front too.  I started to embroider the back pockets first.  Then the squares, then the lines, flowers, etc.......
I can't remember how many years I worked on them.  I wore them while they were in the process.  They were crazy!  I grew out of them by the time I was 18.

They are about 38 years old and I keep them in a frame.

Someone asked my son once what he would grab if your house was on fire or something......
he said "My mom's shorts".  I love him!

He knows I would like to pass them down..........  : )

I found out years ago that one of my great grandmothers was a hat maker.  How cool would that be to have a hat she made!!

: )  MF

I Just Wanted to be a Bride

Hi,

Denver, CO. - Ivy Street - 1968/69 - I am 7 or 8.

The girls in the neighborhood (my friends) and I are going to play "Wedding Day". We will all be brides! We are going to practice at my friends house (about 3 houses down from mine). Now I just need a wedding dress. I know exactly what I want to wear.

I ran home to ask my mom if I could borrow her wedding dress. I was so excited. I knew she would say yes. I would totally look like a real bride!

She said "No......You can't play with it, it's not a toy". My dad told me I "couldn't play with it" either. "It would get dirty and ruined". I promised I wouldn't wreck it but they still said "No".
I wanted to wear it sooooo bad!

The dress was packed in a round navy blue suitcase that had white trim around it. The loop shaped handle was white too. It was in the garage. I went back outside to play with my friends. I went through the garage and what did I do? I took my mom's wedding dress out of the round blue suitcase and put it on over my clothes. I knew I shouldn't, but off I went down the sidewalk hurrying to play "Wedding Day".

One of my brothers was riding his bike and saw me. "I'm telling! You have mom's dress on!".

OMG - I am going to be in so much trouble...... I ran home before I even had a chance to show my friends the dress........

I don't remember if I put the dress back in the suitcase before I went in the house, or not. My dad basically told me I was "in trouble".......he told my mom to take me upstairs and spank me! She took me up to my bedroom and gently paddled my butt. "You can't wear my dress....it's too big and it is not something to play dress-up with".

"I just wanted to be a bride"........

As I got older, my dad used to try and bribe me with "I will dance at your wedding" when he wanted me to do a chore or something.......and later would tell me "Don't get married until you are 30".

He died when I was 18.

I am the only one out of 5 kids - (3 brothers and 1 sister) that has never gotten married! : (

I am a mom and have the greatest son in the world, but I have never been married.

I have my mom's wedding dress in the closet. I think it's too small for me now.....

: ) MF

Broomfield, CO - early 70's

Hi again,

My oldest brother is 3 years older than me. He must be 17 when this story takes place in Broomfield. He has worked really hard at a machine shop and earned enough money to buy a car. He buys a sweet 1964 Chevy Impala/SS. It is aqua colored with a white hard top. It is pretty nice and he loves it...........

Sometimes my dad needs to "borrow" it.
I think the engine blew in his own car or something.... 

I am at the library with my 3 friends (the ones who made cheerleader in 8th grade). We are doing homework and dinking around there. It is either a Wednesday or Thursday evening. Pretty soon, my brother (the one who walked to the Denver Museum when he was little) comes into the library and finds me. "You have to come home. Dad got in a car accident".

I'm worried and my friends were worried.....

Dad was driving my brothers 1964 Chevy Impala/SS. He was on his way back from Westminster or somewhere. He was a few miles from home when he wrecked. He crossed the highway (2 lanes on each side plus over a median) and rolled into a ditch. When they found him, his thigh was pinned under the open door and he was laying outside on the ground....

he had been drinking..............

he lived......................................

he ended up having this permanent dent in his leg from the door.......

my brother remembers walking up to my mom's shop (on that same highway) and seeing a tow truck towing a car (smashed) that looked like his???

Turns out it was his....My brother's car was totaled!! The whole front end demolished.....

I remember seeing it in town after they towed it. It was parked on the side of this gas station. It was wrecked pretty good.

How unfair for my brother and how irresponsible of my dad!

The next day at school (either a Thursday or Friday morning) - at a morning mass, the priest was "praying for people".......all of a sudden I heard him say my dads name......

(I'm not super religious - just happened to go to Catholic schools as a kid)

I felt embarrassed..... I knew my dad was drunk when he crashed, but I didn't know if anyone else knew.......my friends had told the people at school that my dad was in a car accident.......I guess that's how the priest found out.

A year or two later, my brother bought a 1963 Red Pontiac Catalina. It is also a pretty sweet car.

We have moved to Wyoming.......

My dad "borrowed" the Catalina. He drinks and drives again, and wrecks the 1963 Red Pontiac Catalina. My brothers car is totaled.....Our dad lives through this accident too.

The next car my brother buys is a 1967 Convertible Camaro, 8 cylinder, 4 speed. It is really really cool. Its original color is Candy Apple Red with a black cloth top but I think the paint is a dark grey primer on it now. He pays $500.00 for it. He loves this car.

Eventually, my dad insists that he has to borrow the Camaro to drive to Oregon and back.

OMG! NOOOOOOOO!!!! My POOR brother is BESIDE himself ..............................

"You are NOT taking my car"!!!!

"YOU ARE NOT TAKING MY CAR"!!!!!

My dad insists - he needs to drive to Oregon for a job interview or something.

He ends up driving it to Oregon and back.....a few times.....without wrecking it.

He drives the heck out of it though and it eventually throws a rod.

........it was my brothers problem now. He fixed his car and painted it red.

My dad passed away about 5 years later - (NOT in a car wreck).

My brother kept that Camaro until he was in his 40's. I even got to drive it once.

It was so powerful I could barely push the clutch in! It was fast too!

My message to all of you Dads out there would be:

"Please, Don't drink, drive, and wreck your teenage sons awesome car(s)".

: ) MF

Broomfield, CO - 1974 - Halloween Day

8th grade.....Cathloic School.....

There are four spots open for cheerleader. I have three best friends and we all agree that the four of us are going to be the cheerleaders! That would be so cool.....

I am kind of shy and don't really like to stand up or jump around in front of crowds.....especially if I am by myself.....

The day comes - It is after school and tryouts are starting.....

Everyone takes their turn, does their cheer.....

It's my turn.....I start my "routine".....I'm nervous.....I feel like an idiot (and probably look like one too).....I know I am not meant to be a cheerleader..... 

I eventually try to do the splits and kind of tip over. I am embarrassed and whisper "Sh*t" to myself.....Some of the judges were teachers, some were nuns. They could all probably tell what I mumbled.

My three friends all made cheerleader.....I didn't even get one of the (2) substitute spots!! 

Everyone was "Oh, we're sorry"!! I held my tears....."It's ok, I'm ok".....

I headed for home, walking by myself, choking back the tears.....

Pretty soon I saw my mom's car pull over and stop to pick me up.

As soon I got to the car and opened the door, I started crying.

"What's the matter honey"?!!......

"I didn't make cheerleader"!!

My mom was the head majorette-baton twirler when she was in high school!!

She told me "I could try out again the next time".....but I never did again.....ever.....

We got home.....My dad was sympathetic.....My brothers mocked me.....I got over it.....

At some point during that school year, my three best friends convinced me to sing with them at a morning mass. Two of them played giutars and two of us sang. OMG!! I remember counting down by the second until I had to sing. I was terrified!!!

Everyone said "You sounded good".

I have never sung in front of a crowd again either.....

: ) MF

I have to tell another Denver story - 1969

Hi again,

I shared my "Northglenn" story a few weeks back after watching a "Dateline" episode about these 2 sisters that were kidnapped by a family friend when they were little.....I could have easily been taken for good back then......I just had to tell that story.

Parents: Never send your kids with strangers!!

Anyway, here is another story that I remember from my childhood in Colorado.  (If I should just stop writing, tell me)......

It was humiliating - even for an 8 year old.

I am in 3rd grade - still at Blessed Sacrament Catholic School. We have moved from Clermont/Montview up off of Ivy and 17th Ave. Parkway.........It was a cool 2 story brick house. A door in my bedroom led outside to the top of the garage. Like a little flat tar paper deck.......The lady next door was from Turkey and she would give us Turkish coins......Anyway - I took ballet lessons too. This one day, I had a lesson. I walked from Ivy/Pkwy over to Colfax to my ballet class. A lot of the girls there were named Sharron, Shannon, Sheila, Shelly - something that started with an "Sh....."  I wished my name started with an "Sh......".

It is almost time for class to start and the teacher tells me (in front of everyone) that "I need to go home and get a check". My parents had never paid for the classes......... I felt like an idiot.......I left with my head hanging low and started walking back home. At some point I walked down an alley (about a block or two from home). I remember this dog barking at me through a chain link fence. He must have gotten out because I think he bit me on the ankle or something. I got home and told my mom and dad.........My bite wasn't too bad.................

I was ok.......

I don't think I ever went back to ballet class and I'm sure they never got paid!

I think we moved to Tacoma the following year......

: ) MF

Walking home from 1st grade in Denver - 1967?

Hi there,

Time for another story from my childhood in Colorado.

It is 1967 or so and I am a first grader at Blessed Sacrament Catholic School in Denver. It is located on Montview Blvd. I lived off of Clermont and Montview (behind these people in a brick house that had this cool pedal car/buggy thing). I remember walking home....down the street..... in my little plaid uniform (probably blue and green). I get to my street and can feel this sense of urgency in the neighborhood. It's like a cloud. My parents are outside and frantic.......Two of my younger brothers (1 year and 5 years younger than me) and the little neighbor girl (she was about 4) were missing. ....My mom was babysitting the little girl. The last time she saw them, they were in the backyard! Where could they be? Where would a 1, 4, and 5 year old go?

When I first told this story, I thought only 1 of my brothers was involved.  Turns out my youngest brother was there too (he was about 1 at the time)!

I can still see my dad pacing the streets in a panic looking for them. 

I don't know if the girl's parents were home by then or not...........but pretty soon (probably 1/2 hour or so), my dad saw 3 little people walking up Montview Blvd. (clear down by Colorado Blvd.) He hurried towards them. It was actually my little brothers and the neighbor girl. WOW!!

OMG!!! They could have gotten raped and killed!!!!! 

They wanted to see the dinosaurs at the Denver Museum so they walked there by themselves. How did they even know the way? They crossed Colorado Blvd.......and crossed back......They couldn't get in because they didn't have any money......OMG!! How lucky were our families?

What was my mom doing?
These particular brothers (I have 3) will be 46 and 50 next year........I love them......

: ) MF

On our way to the Northglenn Mall in 1973 - Colorado

Hi there,

I have a story from my childhood in Colorado. In 1972/73 I was 11 or 12 (a girl). I had a baby sister about 1 year old. The two of us and our mom were headed to the Northglenn Mall. We were driving on a highway (not sure which one) but we were coming from Broomfield...... We ran out of gas about 1 mile from the mall......my mom pulled over on the side of the highway. I think we drove a Light Blue Chrysler.......Pretty soon a car stopped to help and 2 men got out. They looked decent/trusting. They offered to go get us gas and gave my mom their business cards. They suggested I ride with them to get the gas.....that way my mom would know for sure they would come back. OMG....She told me to ride with them! Really? ......I remember walking to their car feeling a little scared and confused. "Shouldn't I stay with my mom and baby sister"? "Shouldn't I be protecting them"? I got in the back seat of the men's car and off we went. I wondered..................................................
"Are they going to rape and kill me"? 
Pretty soon we came to an exit and they took it. (I was still safe) They drove to the gas station and got a can of gas (I was still safe). We headed for the highway - they got on the on ramp and I was still safe! I saw my mom's car on the opposite side of the road as we passed her. Here came another exit and the men took it. We got to my mom's car and they stopped. They actually brought me back to my mom and baby sister and helped us with the gas.
I didn't get raped or killed!!
Thank you to the two men that helped us so long ago.  
I just turned 50!! so they are probably at least 70 - 75? Who knows........I do remember that when we got home and told my dad the story, he was "out of his mind mad" in disbelief that my mom actually sent me with the 2 men! OMG. "Are you #@*&%$# serious"? He couldn't even believe it and I am surprised I am alive today! Again - thank you to the 2 strangers who didn't kill me! : )
My "baby" sister is now 38. My mom ended up getting Alzheimers at 57 and died 10 years ago at the age of 66. My dad died in 1980 when he was 44. I was born in Portland Oregon - raised in Portland, Broomfield, Denver, Tacoma, Beaverton, Broomfield, Laramie, Beaverton, Portland.....I have been in Portland since 1977 and have not been back to Colorado (except at the airport).


: ) MF