3. Wondering when I actually started to sew, I
could trace my memory back to a far but clear figure of a seven- or eight- year- old girl sewing a doll乫s
kimono with the help of her mother. Yes,
I made
kimonos not dresses. The kimono I made was not a formal miniature, but when I added
the extended long kimono collar and the sleeves to its body part, it looked
like a real one. I made many for the doll which was also of my made with a
roughly stuffed body and limbs as well as a head with black satin hair. I made
a futon(a kind of bedclothes)of a traditional style, a small pillow and floor
cushions for my doll. Considerable part of these were maybe made by my mother,
I learned how to stuff them with cotton.
Playing dolls
was my favorite those days. I was never tired of playing by putting my doll in
bed, walking and sitting it. Furthermore, I became an enthusiastic doll maker
when I grew one or two older. I even made traditional Japanese-style dolls.
Although they must have been clumsily made, a neighborhood woman took one of
them home to enjoy, and gave me some allowance.
Around that
time, I made a blouse for myself.丂My mother made a pattern and I cut out cloth
of flower pattern by using it. As we had no sewing machine, I sewed it by hand.
When I went on an errand to a bakery, I couldn乫t乫t wait to put on the blouse though the hem was
not yet finished. It had a flat collar and the front was hooked. So proud and
happy I was about to shout, 乬I made this!乭, but of course I entered the bakery
quietly. The front part of the blouse was shining brightly, and it looked as if
puffed out like a grown-up woman乫s bust. I couldn乫t imagine any better clothes than that blouse.
Although it
gave me such fascinating sensation, I could not recall what happened to it
after that. I don乫t remember whether I did the hem or not. Perhaps there were
so many defects it got soon unwearable. This blouse was surely 乬the beginning乭 of my sewing history. The
passage of time from then and now seems as if a moment dream but I乫ve walked
far via long distance in reality and 乬sewing乭 is about to become my vocation
now. I, who was sewing with childish fingers in an awkward way aided by Mother
all the time, remain in me wholly.
The beginning
of a book I once read devotedly mentions that might life thoroughly reveals its real nature at an
early stage as a child. This passage has a profound meaning as thought deeply
but when I review part of my life through this passage I feel the meaning that
this carries must be true. The soft and fragile fingers have turned hard and gnarled after a long years but the
person who intends to move the fingers is the child who is still living in
myself. As I was given a chance of sewing again by the deceased aunt, I thank
her everytime I wear the clothes made of her kimonos.
