I CANNOT believe that there are actually dolts out there ignorant enough to make fun of handiworks and crafts.
I grew up with a crafty, artsy-fartsy family. We weren’t allowed to watch much TV, so it was read, read, do a craft, and read. And I did both, as did my sisters. My mom, too. She really admired people who could make things (and she did some nice crafty things herself.) My dad was always really proud of anything hand-made we did. I saved a lot of money buying Christmas gifts by making everything for everyone! (Whether they wanted it or not!)
All my sisters and I sew, and can make our own clothes. It is not a big deal, and offers such freedom. (Need a quick outfit for the weekend? Sew it up from the HEAPS of fabric you have collected over the years!)
One of my sisters and I also do pottery. I use the potter’s wheel and make all my bowls and mugs and such for the house. None of the pottery matches, though - each piece is unique. And if I break a mug or bowl? No biggie. More of them just lying around the house, in boxes!
WHY would people belittle or laugh at any such talent? I guess I have encounted this attitude a few times, and I thought it was the height of ignorance and stupidity. I remember telling a co-worker that I made pottery and sometimes sold them in galleries and shops. She was surprised, and said “You mean they’re as good as the mugs in K-Mart?” (She wasn’t trying to be mean - she just had no clue!)
I still can’t get over it. I always pity people who have (shudder) slip cast pottery in their home. (That’s a very pottery-snobby thing to admit to, though. So I’ll stop now.) So to realize that there are some people who treat the handy, crafty and “make-it-yourself” people as if they are freaky just amazes me. I can’t tolerate it.
Guin: sewing is easy. I started to really get into it as an adult. An entry-level sewing machine is not that expensive. Go for it! It may be a while before you know how to make the elaborate vintage clothes, but in the meantime, you can enhance your wardrobe for a mere pittance!
My mother makes great homemade noodles. No. My mother makes the greatest homemade noodles. To this day when I go to my mother’s house and she makes chicken and noodles I am in heaven.
It occurred to me recently that my mom is in her seventies, that she won’t live forever, and that I had no idea how to make these noodles and that it would be a shame to let that part of my past be lost. So I asked her to show me how to make them. She looked at me funny, but said okay.
She put some eggs in some flour. She didn’t know exactly how much – just, you know, the right amount. She added a little salt, rolled it flat with a rolling pin, rolled it up and cut it into strips with a knife and added it to the stewing chicken. Did I think I could remember that?
I felt stupid for never paying enough attention to what was going on in the kitchen to pick up that simple recipe, but I’m still glad I asked. Now that I think about it, I think I’ll make chicken and noodles for dinner tonight!!
Every single time I show up at a social gathering with home baked banana bread with ( or, without) chocolate chips, someone cracks the same joke. " OOoooh, got wifey to make something for us, did you?" Fuckers. I love to bake, it’s theraputic in the extreme. Makes the house smell delicious, too.
I also hand ground the babies’ food, changed a bazillion diapers, and tend the cats. And, although the Marine comment absolutely SLAYED me, I’m 8 months away from a Black Belt, but I can’t kill ya. I just won’t FEED ya again.
38 year old man, gets shit on for making an effort. Feh !
Wow. I cross-stitch too, and I’ve never gotten any flak for it. As other posters have suggested, are you absolutely sure that they were laughing at you, and not at the guy standing near you with his fly open? I know how much concentration x-stitching takes, and you might have been unaware of something else in the room that was funny.
And how old were they? See, guys often won’t admit this, but seeing a woman stitching or knitting, or rolling out dough with her cute self covered in flour, or doing any handiwork that denotes home and daintiness and loving care, sparks a primal urge to capture this delicate flower and protect her, so she can care for them. Maybe they were old enough to have this response, but too immature to express themselves properly.
Or maybe, the culture they’re from views American women as agressive Amazons, and they just thought the sight, not you personally, was ironic: “See, American girls aren’t all rough and tough and mean: some of them sew just like our women do!”
I knit. I’m 22, and I’ve been knitting for 13 years now, and I love it. I’m a very fidgety person, and it calms me and keeps my fingers busy when I’m watching TV or having a conversation. I’ve made hats and scarves for most of of my family members. Although most of my acquaintances are enlightened enough to be impressed or at least nonchalant about my hobby, back in high school I used to get weird looks and comments when I would take my current project out at lunch (not that I usually carry my stuff around, I think I was trying to make something in a big hurry). A teenager, knitting? How uncool! My mom is a professional quilter, and although she’s tried, she couldn’t knit a scarf if her life depended on it. So I get the added pleasure in being craftier than my mom, at least in one area.
Ooooh, matt, I know what you mean re: grandmothers!
My paternal grandmother just passed away (after a very long fight with Alzheimer’s, osteoporosis and multiple strokes - she really wasn’t here the last couple years) last month and it was SO sad to lose her. She was the grandparent I always felt the closest with. She taught me to embroider, needlepoint (which I don’t really do), sew, cook, and on and on. She was an incredible cook, quilter, embroiderer, needlepointer, seamstress and person. She had this razor sharp wit that always caught you by surprise. I miss her ::sniff::.
Because of her, I can make apple pie without a recipe (not that it’s that hard but…) and do all sorts of crafty type things that I never would have learned without her. She was great and I look forward to having kids of my own so that I can pass down the things she’s taught me.
My dad grows a huge garden every year. He tills and waters and I help plant and weed. We go out there and do canning in the late summer/fall. Also freeze a bunch of stuff. Nothing like freshly frozen broccoli from your own garden in the middle of January. Not to mention the grape cordial he made last year (4 cups grapes + 4 cups sugar + 2 pints of vodka = cordial to make your hair stand on end). We’re going to try it with cherries this year!
I love to bake. It’s like therapy for me. Every single time I’m upset about something or just tired or bored, I bake. Anything goes, bread, cakes, cookies. As long as there’s dough, I’m happy. If I’m angry, I like to make bagels. The dough need a lot of kneading and it’s a freat way to get rid of some tension. And the results are just as great. It’s so satisfying to sit down after I’m finished with flour all over me and have a cup of tea or coffee and some of the bread I just got out of the oven. Or a still warm oatmeal and raisin cookie. Yum.
Fortunately, no one ever gives me any shit for it. Not after tasting my banana bread anyway.
Hey, I’m back. Didn’t mean to abandon my own thread for a while there, but I was out of town for a few days.
I’m sure they were laughing at me. It was 12:30 a.m. (the lab closes at 1), and the only people present were my supervisor (on the other side of the lab), a single computer user (also sitting far from me), the laughing idiots, and me. They were in their early-to-mid 20s. They were old enough to know better, no matter what culture they were from. All of them were Asian, but I couldn’t venture a guess as to their actual nationalities.
I return to the same lab to work tonight. I will take my cross stitch with me. If I get any more flak, we’ll just see who’s laughing when I’m through with them.
