No new hobbies! I already had too many projects. The cuff of a sock dangled from my knitting needles, a stretchy T-shirt waited to be seamed, an essay begged to be finished, and a piano part required practice.
But then, three years ago, I needed a birthday gift for my adult daughter Elizabeth, and I remembered a cute crossbody bag pattern I’d spied on Facebook. Everyone was making it. The slim, classy beauty looked perfectly modern, useful, and wearable.
Despite my oath to forego new hobbies, I bought the pattern to try it. I bought the hardware. I bought canvas for the body and leather for the flap. When I discovered trendy webbing, I bought that too, for the straps. This is not a new hobby, I told myself. I’ll make one bag, stuff $100 in the cute little zippered pocket, and return to my other projects.
I gave it to Elizabeth, and she loved its hook closure, multiple compartments, and, of course, its bonus bills. She slung it across her chest and used it every day for both work and play. Her friend Kassie admired it, so when the holidays arrived, I made one for her. Kassie’s friend Stephanie liked it too, so I made one more.
With each new bag, I experimented. Nickel shouted modern and hip. Bronze said antique. Woven webbing spoke boho. Making artistic choices satisfied my creative instinct, and thinking about a potential recipient added to the joy. What started with one bag morphed into a collection and became the hobby I didn’t think I needed.
I explored designs and bought patterns for larger totes. I sourced fabrics and linings, and soon oodles of purses and bags dangled from hangers in my closet.
Was my unintended hobby now an obsession? What would I do with all these bags? Years ago, my family stopped exchanging holiday gifts in favor of family time and shared meals. But when my sister-in-law made a festive dinner, I gave her one as a hostess gift. And when my niece brought me a present from her travels, I gave her one too.
Elizabeth discovered my stash of bags and said, “Oh, they would be perfect for the symphony orchestra raffle!” I gave her three.
Why couldn’t I abandon this new endeavor? What kept drawing me back to my sewing machine with new ideas for one more bag? Perhaps it had to do with where the bags ended up.
I’ve said for years that I should do more volunteer work. My only acts of charity are blood donations and participating in rallies. With my new hobby, generosity felt more accessible. I could work at my own pace, without uncomfortable tourniquets or harsh partisan politics. Each bag required thought, time, and energy, but the real satisfaction came from imagining who would receive it.
My other hobbies—sewing, knitting, piano, writing—benefitted only me. With a few hours of work, I had a new T-shirt, a pair of socks, a piano piece to play, or payment for an essay. Bag-making, however, turned my attention outward. When sewing for a specific person, I thought about their style. What colors do they like? Are they practical or romantic? Do they tend toward minimalism, or enjoy big and bold? Once I gifted the bag, my reward was watching them enjoy what I had made.
A few months ago, my cousin hosted a gathering at her house, so I brought a bag for her. Last week, Elizabeth picked out three more for this year’s symphony raffle. Eventually, each bag has found a home.
But what happens when everyone I know has been given a bag? Will I stop making them? I peeked at a favorite website last night, noticed a new design that would be perfect in linen and leather, and thought of a friend with that aesthetic. Now that bags have wrapped their way around my life, I realize giving one gift is nice, but two or three could be better.
Nancy Jorgensen is a Wisconsin writer, educator, and musician. Her essays appear in HuffPost, Business Insider, Next Avenue, The Offing, River Teeth, Wisconsin Public Radio, and elsewhere. Her most recent book is a middle-grade sports biography, Gwen Jorgensen: USA’s First Olympic Gold Medal Triathlete (Meyer & Meyer). Find out more at NancyJorgensen.weebly.com
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Charming piece.
Your new hobby prompted me to RENEW my obsession with bags: Now I'm making them from singleton socks!!