I’ve always been a maker. When I was small, my Nan taught me basic sewing, embroidery and patchwork. In my teens I made tartan pants and floral boxer shorts to go with my Sportsgirl basics. When I was in my 20s I’m not sure I sewed a single stitch? Then in my 30s I had children and without realising, sewing snuck back into my life. In those early mothering years perhaps I craved making something that wouldn’t be completely undone. Clean benches were always messy by the next meal. Bathed children were sticky and dirty the next day. Toys washed through the house like a tide. But the satisfaction from sewing a small top for my daughter was surprising. Often I’d finish one at night and the delight in the morning was pretty darn sweet. Mostly I’d look at my children in their homemade clothes with pride – in their poorly-fitted wonky-stitched glory. So these photos make me smile because really they capture the reason I started to sew again.