If you are lucky enough to have an extra room to designate solely for sewing, by all means, organize it, decorate it, and pin it! I love to browse through those showcases of clever, colorful studios. And if I had never had my own private sewing space, I’d be green with envy. However, the truth is that before I downsized into an urban condo, I did have an extra room to call my own. In fact, I had plenty of extra rooms – even a Lego room. Another cold fact is that I seldom used it. It was in our finished basement and seemed inconveniently far from the core of our home. I felt like a conductor sequested away in the caboose. Don’t get me wrong, spacious sewing rooms are WONDERFUL and maybe I do get a wee bit jealous, but I’ve gained some personal insight from my new digs.
For those of you with limited space, there are benefits to a portable sewing studio. I store my dress form, machine, fabric and notions in my closet (easy since I also downsized my wardrobe), and the rest of my sewing supplies have taken up residence in an adorable Ikea Raskog utility cart.
When I’m working on a sewing project, I set up my machine on the dining table, roll in my cart, and I’m doing what I love where I love… in the heart of my home. I feel more connected to everyone. Another pay-off is the need to finish a current project before starting a second one. This imposed discipline has actually increased my output of finished designs! I know space is limited, so I don’t have the luxury of storing another unfinished project.
It’s funny. Some of us sew in a spacious room with floor to ceiling shelving while others of us create at a kitchen table. Nonetheless, our passion is the same. Some of my most precious memories are of my aunt who could and did undoubtedly sew EVERYTHING, from pageant gowns to doll clothes to racing silks… all in a tiny corner of her bedroom. Her machine sat in front of a window, providing her a view of a magnificent Rhododendron bush. This was her favorite view of the world. An outside view of the changing seasons, but an inside atmosphere that remained constant. The hum of the same machine she used for a lifetime. The opportunity to do what she loved for all the people she loved. This was her studio, and size did not define it.
