Thank you Mom & Mrs. Wu

     As I was working on a custom art piece, the client said "how did you learn how to do this stuff"?  I have never taken an art class (I went to Catholic school so I'm well versed in Latin, typing and shorthand -- so useful).  It got me to thinking and reminiscing.

    When I was young, my Mother made all my clothes and most of hers.  One of our mutual favorites was the flower girl dress she made for me when I was in my Aunt's wedding.  But I also remember complaining ALOT.....I just wanted to go to The Gap and I hassled my Mother.   "But the crotch is too low and itchy."  "The cool girls aren't wearing this."  I guess a typical pre-tween delight.

    But when I think back, I remember just the two of us going to the local Singer sewing/fabric store.  I was fascinated by the rows of color -- still gets me today. 

My Mom would then sit at a desk with a huge book of patterns and write down the numbers she wanted.  My job was to take those numbers to the huge drawers and pick the patterns out.

    I was always a huge disappointment in the math department and I was impressed with her calculations....knowing the exact yardage, how many zippers and what size, buttons, threads and bobbins.  She would then lay out this glorious delicate paper on top of the fabric and cut and pin away.  I was allowed to try it myself.  ONCE.  I almost cut right through the shag carpet.

   I don't recall ever thanking her.  For giving me a love of color and for creating.  The pants were definitely itchy but nothing as uncomfortable as those Sergio Valente  "designer" jeans and Dr. Scholls (which killed if your foot went over that edge) that I evolved to.

 
    So thank you Mom for giving me an appreciation of handmade, especially when done with love.

   I was lucky to grow up on a block filled with amazing families.  All the kids played for hours:  coloring, Barbies, SPUD, WAR, Red Light Green Light and riding bikes. 

     All our Mothers got together for a weekly card game.  They would switch off houses and I remember lots of jello molds, cocktails and smoking.  Seemed so glamorous.  So many of my childhood friend's Moms have passed away so this visual memory is always bittersweet.

    One of the Moms was Mrs. Wu.  Mrs Wu, her husband and two sons were my first experience of a diverse world.  She always wore her hair in a messy bun before it was "a thing".  She baked almond cookies, had beautiful Asian art and fabric in her home. 

   
     I remember going to her younger son's baptism in Chinatown in NYC.  The traditional clothing, the unusual food was something I will never forget.  The full pig on the main table however I choose to gloss over.

    Mrs. Wu was also crafty.  I'm not sure how it started, but all the kids would assemble at her home and she would teach us a different craft each time.  As an adult I can't even imagine the patience this required.  And I'm sure we were messy.

   One project was cutting out a pattern and sewing a simple A line skirt.  With an elastic waist.  Not the most flattering but I remember being so excited that I made something myself. My hem was not exactly straight....it was a "high/low" skirt before they also became a thing.

    We also made wire rings and bracelets.  The local candy store, Bambis...had rows of beads in tubes and I remember saving up my allowance and we would pick out the colors.

    Sand art....well not everything can be perfectly done.

     Just as I finished my project, I happened to knock my bottle off the table and all my effort became a technicolor beach all over her back porch.  And what Mrs. Wu said that day left my memory while I was busy going to college, getting married, having a crazy career and raising my son:  "Not to worry...this just gives you a chance to create something new and even more remarkable".  I wish I had remembered her wisdom at other points in my life.   Everything became SO serious with this adulting thing.

    I still have the original embroidery pieces I created under her tutelage.  While purging my studio, I found them in a long forgotten box.  They now hang on the wall.

   So thank you Mrs. Wu....for sparking a creative gene that is in full bloom now.  And for planting the thought that nothing is a mistake....just a chance to do something differently and become even more remarkable.   I was lucky to have known you.