I believed those words spoken to me by my high school guidance counselor were the truth. An older woman, squishy and donning hues of gray on her bean-head, she had just asked me which career field I had planned for myself.
I want to be a fashion designer. And with all my heart I did. I had for years been cutting patterns out of old drapes, designing interesting ensembles and sewing rather magnificently with my mothers old Singer knee press sewing machine. From bright paisley puff sleeved A-line dresses to herringbone jumpers and nothing blouses, I created and I sewed.
I also sketched and painted pictures of girls in a variety of stylish outfits and hairdo’s. This is how I passed much of my time as a young teen.
I had just started to mention art school but was not prepared for the response I recieved from Ol’ Whatzerhead. As she steered me away from my passion for fashion design, she guided me toward nursing, teaching or training for a secretarial position.
Those were our choices for many of us women in the late 60′ early 70’s. Gloria Steinham was not a household name yet and feeling foolish for even mentioning my life’s career dream, I accepted those choices.
I became a teacher. To be a nurse, I would have to look at blood and I could not sit still long enough to be a secretary. How strange that I gave so much power to those in “authority”.
My career path has since veered in many delightful directions which I’m sure has disturbed Mrs. Wetblanket from the Beyond.
I had completely forgotten my original desire for fashion until watching, “Project Runway”. I have acquired a huge appetite for this show as I watch and re-watch how they create their amazing garments.
So, I got out my sewing machine after discovering an old pattern and material I had bought over 20 years ago. Much to my delight, the shoulder pad jacket is back in style and as I re-ignite my displaced passion for fashion, the only difference between now and then is I must use a high powered magnifying lens to thread to needle, make sure the stitching is straight, rip out the crooked seams and re-sew until perfection!
So, Mrs. Crumbucket, I know you were doing what you felt was best for me and I thank you because I could not have chosen a better life.