Sewing materials. Photo by Katelyn Avery.
Socks tear, and they tear way too fast. Many people have experienced that feeling of disappointment, when you find out that another sock has a hole in it. The simple answer to this problem is to open the sock drawer and find a replacement, but as I do the sad truth hits me. Every sock I own has a hole in it. With a devastating swoosh my sock drawer closes.
Money’s tight; it’s been that way for a while. The present day American story. Maybe even more for us millennials, but I know some families out there also struggle with their bills. Cutbacks need to be made. Goodbye sock money.
During the winter I could wear my thick winter socks. They didn’t succumb to a hole ridden mess. Even though they were actually older than the lighter socks they replaced.
Eventually a miracle would happen. New socks would be bought. A ten or twelve pack, depending on the store they were purchased from. A simple clothing item brought so much happiness to me. I was able to discard every sock that had a hole in it. This version of spring cleaning usually clears my sock drawer of half its components.
The snow finally melted though, and the winter sock hack had to be postponed. My pockets weren’t any fuller as the weather changed, but I didn’t want to settle for another month or two of ripped socks.
Money can sometimes be distributed differently, but things can only be stretched so thin. Even a millennial isn’t clever enough to stretch zero extra dollars. There is of course another option on the table.
Family sewing kit. Photo by Katelyn Avery.
I remembered artwork I had observed once, created by Mary Jo Bole. On one piece, in faint writing, it said “Nobody Darns Socks Anymore”. A story of the past was told, when people decided to sew up fraying socks, instead of replacing them right away. This inspired me to locate the family sewing kit. It hadn’t been touched in years.
This wouldn’t be my first attempt at sewing though. I had used a sewing machine in middle school to make a drawstring bag and a pillow, but this by hand thing was whole new ball game.
Threading the needle. Photo by Katelyn Avery.
Threading the needle was easier than I thought, and this gave me some false hope. I was sure I could sew like a pro because of how well things started off. I was half wrong. As I began to twist the needle and thread through the sock, which was placed over a magnifying glass, I began to realize a beginner shouldn’t expect perfection. Quality on the other hand is a different story.
The hole, at least an inch wide, slowly closed up. The thread went every which way, but it kept things together. My old-fashioned handy work gave me pride. The repairs even survived the wash, despite my extremely novice first attempt at sewing by hand.
The end result wasn’t perfect, but the durability of each stitch made sewing by hand worth my while. I now owned pair after pair of wearable socks, without parting with a good chunk of my money. A millennial’s dream.
Finally the morning could be relaxing. I didn’t have to pull a part my sock drawer, just to find one good pair of socks. Although I will admit that doesn’t make it any more organized, but that’s a personal problem.
Check out “Nobody Darns Socks Anymore” by Mary J Bole’s here: http://maryjobole.com/nobody-darns-socks-anymore/