Anne C. West

Hi Everybody,

Welcome back to the blog!

If you’ve watched some of my videos, you might’ve seen pictures and time-lapse clips of me sewing. Today, I thought I’d share a bit about this hobby of mine. For a while, it was more than just a hobby.

I started sewing as a young girl, decades ago now. Like so many others who share their origin stories, mine began with dressing dolls. What really sparked my interest, though, was when my maternal grandmother sewed me two dresses. I wore those dresses until it was painful to squeeze into them! The idea of making clothes we actually wear fascinated me.

When I started school, I became friends with a girl whose mom sewed all their clothes. She and her twin sister always wore matching outfits, and I thought it was incredible! The fabrics were beautiful, and their dresses had lace, ruffles, and other details you’d never find on store-bought clothes.

During sleepovers at their house, I got to watch their mom sew. She let us use scraps of fabric to make clothes for our Barbie dolls. That’s when I fell in love with sewing—it was creative, hands-on, and so satisfying.

My mom wasn’t much of a sewer. She often told me how she bought a Bernina sewing machine in the 1960s. She paid it off at fifty rand a month. Because she didn’t sew much, there wasn’t a lot of fabric to play with at home.

Then, in primary school, I got the chance to take sewing as a subject. I was about 11 years old, and it felt like heaven! Our first task was to cover a shoebox with fabric, paper, or anything we liked. This became our sewing box—the equivalent of our grandmothers’ sewing baskets, where all the tools and supplies were kept.

My box was fabulous (if I do say so myself). I covered it in baby pink gingham. Fine lace was wrapped around it. A small bow was sewn onto the lid. Inside, everything was blue—my favorite color. The pincushion, scissors, measuring tape, and even the seam ripper were all blue.

After that, we learned basic hand-sewing stitches using wool and mesh. These stitches—running, blanket, and stay stitches, among others—are foundational, even in today’s world where machines do so much.

We also tried cross-stitch and a type of embroidery I’ve never seen elsewhere. I still have my cross-stitch tray cover. It features white floss on navy gingham. The design is Christmas-themed with candles and festive decorations. It was far beyond my skill level at the time, but I loved every stitch.

Later, we tackled sewing patterns. I remember making a simple summer outfit: a half-full skirt and a strappy top. I wore it all summer, though my changing body ensured it only fit for that one season. Years later, when my mom cleared out her house, I found scraps of that fabric. Seeing them again was bittersweet—perhaps a Barbie outfit is in its future.

Unfortunately, my dad didn’t see sewing as a career path and wouldn’t let me continue the subject in high school.

What Does This Have to Do with Writing?

Interestingly, sewing and writing have a lot in common. Both require creative inspiration, a fair amount of planning, and dedication. In sewing, you need to know your fabrics, tools, and techniques. In writing, you need to understand character and plot development, grammar, and genre conventions.

Both crafts also demand time. Writing a novel, even if you can write a thousand words in an hour, takes fifty-plus hours at minimum. Similarly, sewing a garment isn’t just about cutting fabric—it’s about planning, measuring, pressing, and assembling.

The saying “measure twice, cut once” applies to both. A well-constructed garment takes careful preparation, just like a well-written story. And thankfully, in both sewing and writing, there’s room to revise—whether that’s ripping out a seam or editing a draft.

That’s it from me today—thanks for stopping by!