When my kiddo was in kindergarten, the teachers were trying to empower children to write. They kept telling the students not to worry about knowing how to spell or make letters, just, you know, illustrate and write a book. It’s a charming idea, and I dearly loved the “publications” that came home. However, for the children, this was a concept fraught with stress. They were perfectly aware of what books were “supposed” to look like, and their skills fell woefully short of the glossy treasures in the classroom shelf. It was such an unrealistic expectation.

It continues to amaze me the pressure that we put upon ourselves when it comes to what we should be “good” at doing, and what skills are prized by others.

I love to sew, as you can see from my child’s illustration. The mental challenge of turning two-dimensional fabric and paper into a three-dimensional garment, continues to fascinate me. I am occasionally motivated by the cost savings for some things. But for the most part, I love it because at the end of an hour, or day, or month, I can hold something up and say “This is the result of how I spent my time.”

But in this day and age, this is a hobby, and one as random as any other. Unless you are making curtains or ballgowns, sewing is neither economical, nor necessary. Most clothing is so cheaply made, it is almost impossible to mend. So few people know how clothing should fit, that alterations are also increasingly rare. Once upon a time, it was a useful and budget-conscious skill. In one of the vintage Home Economics textbooks in my collection (1913), there is honestly a chapter called “The ethics of purchasing underwear”. Sadly, this is not about slutty and unethical Edwardian women gallivanting about with no underwear. It’s a consumer warning about the manufacture of ladies’ undergarments in dangerous and unhealthy conditions. It was safer for all involved if you made your own underwear.

We are still worried about sweatshops, but not so much about manufacturing our own frilly little bits. I wish people were easier on themselves. When this book was written in 1913, the lot of women was vastly different. Labor laws, unions, voting rights, civil liberties, and access to education were limited, to say the least. While women still are often associated with the domestic sphere, it is not their only one. My female friends are scientists, lawyers, doctors, professors, architects, computer programmers, and a thousand more things besides. And yet, many of them say wistfully to me, “I wish I could sew.”

To that I say, “Good God, girl! Why?” If you have made it through law school, I think the last thing you should be concerned with is making your own clothes. I don’t know of any other hobby that inspires such nostalgia. No one says “Wow. You collect stamps? I wish I could do that!” If you want to learn to sew, it can be a lot of fun! It can also be incredibly frustrating, expensive and time consuming. You must love it for its own sake. And whatever the reason is that you want to learn, don’t ever let it be because you feel like you should.

That is SEW not the point.