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Musings on being a late bloomer Do you sew garments? If you do, I wonder when you began? As a child or teenager perhaps? (Many craft blogs I read, suggest this might be the case).

Me? Well, I started only a few months shy of a milestone birthday; one that sounds a bit like the word naughty. Prior to this, I had a chequered past in the sewing department. Indeed the words fiasco and debacle do spring to mind.

You see at some point (quite possibly eighth grade Textiles) I (or possibly a teacher) decided that I really couldn't sew. And once I thought I couldn't sew, I really didn't bother trying again. I bumbled my way though to adulthood without completing even the most basic of sewing tasks. With hand-on-heart, I can swear I found the stapled hem to be a perfectly acceptable finish. And as for the safety-pin-for-button substitution? Guilty as charged. Years ago, I remember Mr Hoppo Bumpo confiscating a garment with a split seam. Apparently his days of sewing up windsurfer sails trumped the use of office stationery in garment repairs.

Sewing went one way and I, the other ... and it seemed never the twain should meet. Which was a pity given that my dear, late grandmother was the most wonderful seamstress. She could make anything and to absolute perfection. She created all sorts of fabulous garments for me and course I watched as the machine whirred away. Unfortunately, I managed to turn sewing into some kind of spectator sport (complete with ignorance of the rules).

Nan used to tell me all the time that I could sew, but to this day I have no idea where her confidence sprang from. In my recollection she never saw me sew anything in particular ( ... and I kept the staples very hush-hush). Sadly, it wasn't until after she died and I was nearly forty that I tried to learn. The 12 hours of beginners' evening classes were a complete revelation: not only was sewing relatively straight-forward, but it was interesting, rewarding and fun. Sewing was liberating too - suddenly there was the possibility of garments in the just the colour, shape and fit I wanted.

Now I am looking back and kicking myself: if only I had started earlier; lots earlier. I am very sad that I didn't take the opportunity to learn from my grandmother. And I can only imagine what those years of extra experience might have produced by now. Plackets with alacrity. Armscyes with my eyes closed. Ease adjustments, with er ... ease? Maybe my wardrobe would be filled with a range of beautiful garments that I truly loved and appreciated.

What do you think? Is an early start in sewing an advantage?

It's certainly the case when you are learning a language or an instrument. And it helps for athletic pursuits (... you don't, for example, see many people taking up gymnastics at my age). On the other hand, being of the mature age often brings a greater degree of motivation and possibly, application to learning. But then there's also a certain confidence that comes with starting something young. (Picture the difference between a 4-year old and a 34-year old novice skier hurtling down the slopes). And let's face it ... there are many aspects of sewing that are about confidence.

While I ponder these questions, there is only one thing I can say with confidence: I am yet to meet an eight-year old who wants to learn how to construct a welt pocket.