Not until I actually opened up a shop and started selling my own line of items did I scrutinize so much what I was doing. I was influenced by what my customers wanted, what my peers were doing and who I thought I needed to be that I wasn't happy with what I was creating. After some time to self-reflect, I've been able to find what I lost along the way. I took a year off to find what was missing (more on that later) and I found that I grew away from appreciating what I was so lucky to learn. Handed down traditions and skills that make for a pretty damn good life, so I brought them back and I found me again.
For as long as I can remember our family had huge gardens, we preserved summers' haul to keep us through the winters and we gifted others with canned goods that we knew they would appreciate and share with their own families. When it came to clothing, we thrifted, we had hand me downs and for special occasions we accompanied my grandmother to the fabric shop to pick out our very own patterns for what would be sewn into some unique duds. Slippers and hats were crocheted with yarn, a large floor loom crafted so many blankets and rugs, even little dresses for our barbies were made with lace and pearls. We weren't just making do with what we had- we were enjoying the process of making, spending time together, creating memories and living a simple life. The things we did then, I'm doing now, minus the barbie dresses.
I've seen a surge in this style that has become a little trendy and that's okay because those of us that grew up on it just get to enjoy it again. I want what I do to have meaning, to be respected and most of all be something I can pass down someday too. I want to keep with tradition.