My mother couldn’t sew worth a darn — and she couldn’t do that either. I think it was an act of rebellion against her time when all women were expected to spend half their time sitting around with needles and such. She had a sister-in-law who made beautiful clothes from scratch, including some lovely little dresses for me, and Mother was duly appreciative.
I remember feeling princesslike in them, not a common feeling in those days, when most young girls looked more like witches. That may sound exaggerated but check out the old class pictures. The only makeup we wore was lipstick, few of us had bodies, and sex was something we mostly postponed into the distant future. (It wasn’t such a bad world, really, but that’s a subject for a different article.)
I still have those old dresses, and the stitches are exquisite. I’m sure Mother admired them from a safe distance, and that is probably why she was happy enough for me to take home economics, in seventh and eighth grades, when sewing was scheduled for the first year, and cooking, the second.
I was lukewarm about the sewing part, but, as usual, I couldn’t wait for the cooking part, because all the older girls reported back that they were allowed to eat their schoolwork. I couldn’t wait.
First, though, I had to get through the sewing portion of my education, and, being Mother’s daughter, for me that wasn’t easy. To begin with, the home ec teacher was a humorless type, who had considerable autonomy in the school system and didn’t have to kowtow to anyone. As far as I know, there were no board of education standards she had to follow, and this led to a curriculum that was individualized to her needs rather than ours.
Of course, that may be guesswork on my part. All I know is that for the first month of seventh grade home ec, we spent our time sewing along the lines of notebook paper with sewing machines, learning to sew straight whether we wanted to or not. And if you protested, you spent another month sewing along the lines of notebook paper, with the result that some of us spent a considerable part of that year sewing along the lines of notebook paper. Presumably our sewing was straight as an arrow from then on, but don’t count on it.
Eventually, after everyone else had done their straight seam duty, and made an apron into the bargain, we slow learners came along just in time to join in the big project of the year — a blouse. I chose blue cotton for mine, which might have been okay, except that it turned out we were required to sew the seams in a contrasting color, so as not to strain Miss-Whatever-Her Name-Was’s eyes. I chose white thread, proud that she would notice how straight they were.
As it turned out, the blouse looked something like a building with all the ductwork on the outside, which later became fashionable, like contrasting seams, and patches and tears on your jeans, but not in those days. Actually, it looked awful. I never wore it, and have no idea what my grade was, but I’m sure it wasn’t good.
Of course, all year we had been tantalized by the smells wafting from the eighth Grade Home Ec classes. Mary Hensel, of Cumberland, remembers her Home Ec Cooking class very well: she says she learned to make cocoa and creamed cabbage. But I’m sure that was because Cumberland begins with C. I grew up in Wheeling, W.Va., and I’m sure we would have learned to make, oh, wasabi wings and walnut wassail — something like that.
No such luck. We all gathered in the Home Ec room the first day of eighth grade, giddy with anticipation, Miss What’s-Her-Name-Again? walked in, looked at us coldly, and pronounced our fate. “You were all so bad last year,” she said with a smirk, “I have decided to give you another year of sewing this year.” And she did.
I made a dress out of green rayon with red seams, and wouldn’t have been caught dead in it.
Maude McDaniel is a Cumberland freelance writer. Her columns appear on alternate Sundays in the Times-News.
Maude McDaniel - Living
Bad memories of home ec still persist
- Maude McDaniel - Living
-
-
Ordinary things can be the most amazing
When you live in this world — not that I have any experience in any other one yet — you come across absolutely amazing things that don’t amaze you.
-
Rusty takes over with his doggy wisdom
They say the world is going to the dogs.
If only! -
There are eggs, and there are Easter eggs
Today, I want to talk about — eggs. Good subject for Easter, right? But have you ever wondered how eggs, well, happen? How do they form so perfectly, with the shell always on the outside and the stuff so flawlessly contained inside.
-
The signs of old age never seem to stop
Well, I’ve satisfied your intense curiosity about chopsticks, and playing cards, and such, which means I can get back to my favorite topic these days — how to know when you’re getting old.
-
A sense of humor makes life easier
This may not be a secret — but I love laughing.
As far as I am concerned, a sense of humor transforms life from something that has to be gotten through grudgingly, just because you happened to be born and have no other choice, into an opportunity for joy, if only for a moment here and there. -
You’ve heard it before, but things are worse
Hey, I’ve been pretty good-natured lately, and it’s a strain on me. Considering my age (very old) and the state of the world (very bad), you must be amazed at my self-control in the last few months. I don’t remember saying anything good about the music or the electronics or the morals of our culture in recent columns — but I have carefully tried not to bash them. Well, not too much.
-
History of chopsticks and related subjects
Now there are some big questions in life, like where did we come from, and even bigger questions in life, like where are we going? Today, however, I prefer to talk about chopsticks.
-
Wondering? Here’s how cards began
Just in the last few years, I have become quite the cardplayer .My father would be amazed, because he would not allow me or my brothers to play cards (with the regular cardfaces) when we were growing up. We were, however, allowed to play other games that had cards of their own, like Touring and Flinch.
-
By now, we should know all the answers
Here I had expected that, by the time I reached this advanced age, I would know all the answers there were to know, or maybe even more. But apparently it was not to be, for, lo and behold, I seem to have still more questions lining up, like all those thousands of blackbirds on the lines in front of the M&T Bank on Industrial Boulevard.
-
Here are a few laughs to start the new year
Nothing’s better to start out a new year with than jokes! Even if they are other people’s jokes. And some of these are not so much laugh out loud, as just wry observations on the world. But then that’s what the best humor is often about!
- More Maude McDaniel - Living Headlines
-
Ordinary things can be the most amazing
