My Life is a Bag Full of Zippers

[Originally published on personal blog – Sep 13, 2023]

I’ve always been a crafty kid. I grew up with a sewing machine at home, a family heirloom from my mother’s side – but I never properly learned how to use it. This old machine had its quirks, and I gravitated more towards manual sewing. The machine didn’t even have an electrical connection, and the idea of having to pedal just to sew felt too exhausting. So, my childhood was filled with sewing small things by hand, using only thread and needles.

I remember when I was in elementary school, I made a DIY bracelet from the waistband of a skirt I had outgrown. My mother had just taught me how to sew, so I attached various buttons – any kind I could find at home. That bracelet became my signature jewelry, and I remember wearing it all the way through middle school. I can’t quite recall how I lost it, but somehow it didn’t make it with me to high school. Even so, that bracelet holds a special place in my memory, reminding me of a childhood filled with crafts and DIY projects.

The crafty child grew into a not-so-crafty adult. I’m not sure what switch I accidentally flipped, but during adolescence, I developed a repulsive feeling towards art. I remember in high school, we were assigned to create calligraphy using newspaper and paste. I recall the utter disgust I felt when looking at the piece I made. As I got older, making things by hand became less and less a part of my life. There was this persistent thought that everything I made was trash, and that, since I wasn’t an art student with a quirky, artsy style, there was no point in even trying.

When I moved to Yogyakarta for high school, my mother always reminded me to keep a sewing kit at home. Naturally, as a rebellious teenager, I ignored her advice – until the day I lost a button on my school shirt. It was my first year, and I was getting ready for class, wearing my plain white uniform shirt. When I realized the top button was missing, I felt a wave of panic. I could have just gone without it, but as a shy girl, the idea of leaving the top button undone and exposing myself was too much. At that moment, I wished I had thread and a needle to fix it. I could almost hear my mother’s voice, whispering, “Told ya.”

That was the moment I realized how useful a simple sewing kit could be. Lost a button? Sew a new one. Trousers too big? Take in the waistband with a quick stitch. Everyday fashion problems could easily be solved with some thread and a needle. From then on, I always kept a sewing kit nearby. When I moved to Jakarta for work, my old sewing kit came with me – a small reminder that sometimes, my mother was right.

Living in Jakarta has been like juggling three bottles without knowing a thing about juggling. The fast pace of life consumed me, and work became the defining feature of my existence – something that, in hindsight, felt deeply sad. I believe we should be more than just our job titles.

When the pandemic hit in early 2020, I found a silver lining. It grounded me in ways I hadn’t expected. My life became more than just commuting to the office, working eight hours, and commuting home. Like many others, I rediscovered myself. I scrubbed my bathroom more often, cleaned the kitchen every night after cooking, rearranged my furniture weekly, and explored hobbies I’d never tried before. The idea of sitting still with my thoughts terrified me, so I constantly jumped from one hobby to another.

During the pandemic, I tried everything – rollerblading, learning the piano, experimenting with new recipes, gardening, and more. In April 2022, I decided to buy a sewing machine. Being the impulsive person I am, it didn’t take long for me to make the purchase. I didn’t just get a regular home sewing machine – I bought a heavy-duty one. My decision had no grand purpose; I simply liked the grey color better than the usual white machines. I still have a small memento from the first lines I sewed with the machine, a reminder that there’s always a first time for everything.

I went all out once I bought the machine. I got a sewing table, a separate table for cutting fabric, all sorts of fabric cutters, presser feet, various threads, and all the small tools needed for sewing. I watched hours of YouTube tutorials and learned to make patterns by copying my own clothes. After about two weeks, I finally made my own top. I remember feeling almost tearful after finishing it – a flood of unfamiliar emotions washed over me. For the first time in years, I felt truly proud of myself.

I progressed quickly with sewing. A few months later, I got myself a serger (overlock machine), practically turning my place into a fashion studio. Weekends were spent sewing sleeveless tops (because I was still afraid of making sleeves), dresses, skirts, and even trousers. I began posting my progress on social media, and soon, friends were asking if the clothes I wore were handmade. It felt strange to be known for something other than work. I remember giggling in the bathroom of a karaoke bar after a friend complimented the top I made. Some friends even commissioned simple tops from me, and for the first time in ages, I could identify myself as something more than just a person who worked in this or that company.

After a year and a half with my sewing machine, I’ve learned a few life lessons:

I Became Less Afraid of Failure

“It’s okay, I can always undo the seams if it doesn’t work.” That was a revelation for me. I had always felt the pressure to get everything right on the first try, but with sewing, perfection wasn’t the goal. Mistakes were just part of the process. Over time, I’ve become more willing to try new things, knowing that I can always fix what doesn’t work. It’s been a liberating experience, boosting my confidence and trust in myself.

I Became Less Frustrated with Sudden Changes

As someone who struggles with changes, sewing has taught me to be more flexible. There were countless times when things didn’t go as planned — sewing the wrong sides together, missing measurements by a few centimeters, forgetting to add seam allowances. These mistakes humbled me and taught me to embrace changes as part of the process.

I Became More Patient

Patience was never my strong suit. I would get frustrated easily and lose my temper over small things. But learning to sew has taught me patience. Operating a sewing machine requires a certain rhythm, and it took me weeks to find my flow. Even now, there are times when I’m not in sync with the machine, resulting in crooked lines that I have to undo. It’s a painstaking process, but one that has taught me to slow down and take things step by step.

In all, sewing has been a fascinating journey of self-discovery. The act of creating something with my own hands has left a lasting impact on me. The freedom it gives me with fashion choices is incredibly empowering, and should anything go wrong with my wardrobe, I can always fix it myself. Even when I buy clothes, I can alter them to better suit my size and shape.

For the past two months, I’ve also been learning how to make bags. I started with pouches made from leftover fabric and recently made my first tote bag. I’ve received many compliments, and a friend even commissioned a sling bag from me. It was my first time working with bag zippers and hardware like loops and length adjusters. I even got a custom label for everything I make moving forward. I’m amazed by my ability to learn something new at 30, an age where I thought my learning curve would slow down. So, who knows where this journey will lead? I guess I’m like a bag full of surprises… or should I say a bag full of zippers?