The Sewing Kit

There are a few things in life that make you feel like an adult.  One is wearing 100% cashmere or merino wool sweaters and throwing away everything in your closet from Forever 21.  (Bergdorfs is much more "forever 28".)  Another is surrounding yourself with the trappings of permanency, like crystal and silver and furniture made of wood (not plastic wrapped in a wood veneer).  Sometimes its a simple act, like writing down your friends' addresses in an address book.  Other times its an investment piece like the walnut dining room table we lusted after for a year and then finally purchased and wrote "our first table" along with the date on sharpie on the bottom, so that some day our children would play underneath it and see it, becoming one of those little indistinct childhood memories that feels happy without really knowing why.  

And now I'll add 'A Proper Sewing Kit' to the list.  My mother in law came over recently with the suggestion that I might make Jack a blanket or a stuffed animal and so she brought me all of the tools: a handmade, woven wool pin cushion, safety pins, glass head pins, fabric scissors, an envelope of needles, 4-ply, 100% silk thread and a bundle of wool squares to play with as I please.  My mom always had a sewing kit that was hidden under a shelf and that I regularly snuck into while I was making various crafts (I went through a cross-stitching phase, ok?).  And even if I don't ever use the sewing kit (I've already got so many projects!) it makes me weirdly satisfied to know that if Jack rips his pants or Peter drops a button from his shirt I can put what's broken back together again.  

My mother in law picked up all of the supplies at Purl Soho, which she won't stop talking about.  A full post on the place - a treasure trove - is forthcoming.