Tuesday, April 8, 2008


My lessons at the sewing school have been dwindling. I’m just not as passionate about pockets as I once thought. I agree there is a lot to be learned from the modern variations of pocket, but they are not so relevant to my life right now. Although I could always use a good hiding place.

A few weeks ago I scoured the city for a sewing machine in the hopes of making a go at the growing pile of clothing projects in the corner of the spare room (not so spare any more). I was delighted to find, at the foot of the stairs lining each side of our street, a tiny sewing school with seven machines crammed into a 10’ x 10’ room.

Although it is a training school preparing students for work at the local pocket factory, the m3allam insisted that I would follow my “own system” and “learn everything.” The first lesson seemed promising, I re-learned how to use the industrial machine that had years ago prompted me to drop out of fashion school. I mastered it this time around, and learned all of the Arabic names. It wasn’t until my second lesson that the m3allam ordered I follow the “common system” - “his system” -“the pocket system.” I have a lot of respect for pockets and the things they hide, and I am trying not to discriminate against them while I learn to discriminate between them, but I think it is time to move on to a less-limited system.

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