Fine Handwork and a World of Inspiration

The Story of a Seamstress and her Sewing Family Tree

Continuing the theme of family legacy, and craft and sewing practices that have been handed down through the family tree, we come to my grandmother Elizabeth, or Betty as she was known - the daughter of Ottilie who we met last time.

If you had been introduced to her in later life, you would have been surprised at Betty's interesting life story. In later life I remember that she often wore clothing in soft tones of purple and blue, and she wore her hair short and neatly curled. Like many grandmothers, she had a particular smell and a favourite perfume. An unassuming and quiet woman to outsiders, she was good to my brother and I. She loved playing cards, cooked a great roast, enjoyed a cheeky joke, played the football pools each week, and used to give us 50p to go to the newsagent's on a Sunday lunchtime to buy chocolate bars for the whole family. As is so often the case in families, it wasn't until much later that I learned more about her life.

As we already know, her parents were Latvian immigrants to Britain, who experienced hostility from their British neighbours during WW1 due to their home country's association with Russia at the time. Money was short for much of her childhood, so Betty helped her mother Ottilie with small sewing jobs in the evenings as a teenager. Perhaps she also learnt about some of the rich embroidery traditions of Latvia from her mother as well. Her father died when she was 15, so upon leaving school she went to work at the Embassy Hotel in London, where she probably had accommodation with her housekeeping job. Doubtless her sewing and mending skills were put to work in the hotel's linen room and, like many at the time, she would have both made and altered her own clothes.

Some time in 1938 she met my grandfather in Lyndhurst in the New Forest. He was a ship's pilot in Port of Spain, Trinidad, bringing large vessels into port via a narrow entrance channel. With a very small population of eligible young women in Trinidad, he was in London looking for a bride and, with the threat of war in Europe, and little in the way of financial support from home, the family story has it that Ottilie urged her daughter to accept the marriage proposal and leave Europe.

Betty left England in 1939, and her mother died just months later. It must have been a difficult time for her, and an enormous cultural change. Betty's life was suddenly very different and possibly quite lonely too. I don't know much about this time, but sewing and handwork continued to be an important pastime. Betty's children wore beautiful handmade clothes made of fine cotton lawn - perfect for the hot climate in Trinidad - and she also had small embroidery projects on hand. She was involved with the local Baptist church, and supportive of the church bazaars for which she made small handmade items.

Fast-forward to the early sixties, when Trinidad won independence from Britain, and the family moved to England where they ran a hotel. With her knowledge of hotel housekeeping and her extensive sewing skills, Betty was in a good position to support this new start. Many years of sewing, knitting and making smock dresses for the grandchildren followed - her fine handwork was immaculate.

In 1970 Betty was widowed and her life changed again. She managed a shop for a few years and eventually secured a position as live-in head linen-keeper at a large hotel. Her life had come full circle and, in spite of working well into later life, she was a positive and upbeat woman, making good friends in the hotel that became her home for many years. We enjoyed visiting her there and playing on the sandy beaches nearby.

One of my enduring memories of Betty dates to 1978, when Grease the movie came to cinemas, and took the country by storm. I wanted a yellow circular skirt (like Sandy) and of course Betty remembered making these for my Mum in the fifties. So they took over the dining table for a couple of days, and made me the perfect outfit, including a net petticoat. I enjoyed a brief moment of triumph at the next school dance in the outfit (a rare occurrence) and gained huge respect for their ability to create a garment from scratch.

After decades of travelling between Trinidad, South America and Europe, Betty still loved to travel, and she preferred to travel with a companion. In 1983 I was invited to accompany her on a trip to the far East where I bought batik fabric, and enjoyed the colour and texture of the places we visited. Around this time, Betty was making beautiful quilted jackets out of silk and fine cotton, with a short collar and covered buttons. This became a small business. Sewing to the end, she passed away peacefully just weeks before retirement.

I've inherited some of Betty's spools of fine silk, and the woven tapes she sewed into the neck of her jackets. I occasionally use these threads in my textile work - a connection with a woman in my family tree who finished her stitching story forty years ago.

Her mother's life was a tale of emigration during a time of regional turmoil, being misunderstood by her new community, and very hard work. And Betty's life echoed this pattern in so many ways. I'm proud of these two female survivors who sought both income and pleasure in textile work.

Raising a needle to you this week, Nan.

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