A Quote by Alice Walker
My mother had bought a sewing machine for me. When I went away to college, she gave me a sewing machine, a typewriter and a suitcase, and my mother made $17 a week working as a maid 12 hours a day, and she did that for me.
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My mother did like to make clothes, and in I think the worst picture I've ever seen of myself - I must have been eight or nine - she'd dressed me in a matching t-shirt and Bermuda shorts ensemble which I think looked like somebody had thrown up all over it. I was so glad when that sewing machine stopped working, I have to say.
When I was little, and whenever I had to wear a dress while my mother took up the hem or made any alterations, she told me to keep a thread from the dress in my mouth while she was sewing, and that would keep me from getting stuck by the needle.
I have to say, I grew up with fashion because my mother was a seamstress, and she had an atelier. She would cut the first pattern, and then she had people working for her. So I grew up in an atelier, watching people all around me sewing. I was fascinated.
My mother had a sewing machine. I was never allowed to use it, but I was so fascinated by this little needle going up and down joining fabric together that I'd use it when my mother went out to feed the chickens.
A good use for me is to let me go away with my sewing machine and come back with some really new stuff.
My mother hid the struggle from us children. She complained about her salary, and she had a tough time. Although she became a headmistress, she still had to do a lot of sewing. The more I think about her, the more remarkable I realise she was. And she understood straight away when I said that I wanted to write.
My mother loved fashion. She was a beauty and had enough sewing skills that she could re-create the looks in magazines. She also was enormously charismatic.
I remember an old Singer sewing machine at home that belonged to my grandmother. It had a pedal. My mom taught me how to use it when I was 12 years old. I used to find it so intriguing, how a flat piece of material could be made into an object that had so many uses.
...fact was she knew more about them than she knew about herself, having never had the map to discover what she was like. Could she sing? (Was it nice to hear when she did?) Was she pretty? Was she a good friend? Could she have been a loving mother? A faithful wife? Have I got a sister and does she favor me? If my mother knew me would she like me? (140)
My mother's very proud of the name she gave me. She thought it sounded rhythmically better. It doesn't really make a difference to me what people call me, but since my mother calls me Holly Marie when she's angry, I prefer just my first name.
The greatest finish line for me was finishing college - it was a pact I made with my mother, during a time when she fell ill. That happened during my Freshman year, and unfortunately she never saw me compete in the Olympics. But she really wanted me to finish college, because she never finished Junior High.
My mother bought me a brand new suit for going away to college. We were poor, but she wanted me to have that. It was a powder blue suit with peg pants - you know, skinny at the bottom. I think I made quite an impression with that.
I guess I had it made. My mother gave me advice - she taught me that women like to be looked in the eye - and my grandmother gave me condoms.
It was hard when my mother left us. I said to myself: 'You must keep working hard for her.' She was a teacher, a big influence. She made me work harder. So when I'm not doing something right or when I'm not playing or working hard enough, I remember what she used to say to me. She gets me moving. She pushed me to work hard.
My parents got me a sewing machine for Christmas during my senior year of high school. I made three pieces of clothing and had a fashion show at the end of the year, where we had to wear the clothes that we made. I took it to a whole new level; I made all my friends clothes.
Normal people, fear the day their parents die. Screwed up people, fear the day their parents kill. My mum killed a guy, at my wedding. So I can pretty much check that off. But, she's my mum. And no matter what she did I just can't walk away from her. She gave me birth. She gave me love. She gave me the ability to make a cigarette fire look like it was started by the hot water heater.
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