I can feel the eyebrows rising even now, before I'm through the first line. Especially from my gifted godfather, in the picture; he calls it " Spock-ing", as in Star Trek. so, with that in mind, I tread lightly and continue on.
A few years ago, a priest asked me if I could make a priest's every day robe for him ( otherwise known as a cassock or riasa). I felt confident enough in my abilities to take on the assignment, if we could manage to find or create a pattern. Hours of seeking online led to nothing, and I was convinced I'd have to spend months at a monastery learning to make these specialized garments. One evening after church, the priest approached me with an armful of black cloth, asking "Can you do something with this?" and proceeded to put it on.
This wonderful garment had obviously seen years of service. Other than the holes everywhere, strained seams, and arms threatening to fall off any minute, there was a very large tear across the back that reminded me of old winter underwear, you know the kind- the dreaded long-johns that had a "back door"; but these were in black, and had no legs. I tried not to laugh thinking of all the work this cassock had seen, both physical and spiritual, but this was a " you had to be there" moment- the priest standing with several of the younger teens all around trying to hide their laughter too, became amusing. He joined in the laughing, creating stories about how the cassock came to its current state,
After collecting ourselves, priest included, he handed me the cassock, and we went on our way. The next few weeks led to me very carefully removing each piece, and taking mental note of the stitch direction, how the pieces fit together, and where the buttons and buttonholes should be placed. One very important morsel of information- cassocks are generally made of wool or a poly-cotton blend, depending on their area of origin. This one was wool, and as I disassembled it, I started coughing and sneezing. Wool deteriorates and also causes allergies. So there I was, trying to pray, take the " pattern cassock" apart, and looking like I was in my personal poppy field. I am still wondering how I managed!
Finally I found success obtaining my elusive pattern, as it were, and I continued on to find an acceptable fabric for this cassock. I found several, and one was acceptable. It was rather heavy for a cassock, but that's what he said he wanted, so we went with it. I took the fabric home, prepared it, and began placing the patern, ever so carefully because as I said, it was fragile. I'd already taken off more fabric and made more holes while I was in the deconstruction phase.
Fabric prepared, pattern laid out, and alterations made, I began cutting and constructing. It didn't take me long to find a challenging seam intersection. I thought for hours trying to remember how these seams looked when they came out, and finally, weeks later, the solution came to me. I quickly finished the garment, and took it to Father, only to take it home for alterations. I had taken my alteration supplies with me, expecting to have the typical " first garment" experience- one arm longer than the other, pockets lopsided, and nothing fitting. Luckily, that didn't happen.
Alterations complete, I returned it to Father to his satisfaction. He wore it several times, and then informed me it was perfect for an Alaskan winter with no topcoat. I hoped he wasn't telling us he was moving to Alaska.
That led to several cassock alterations and restorations, which were shared among family members. Most recently, I've encountered another challenging "donor cassock"- this time a Greek style with several stylized seams throughout. Again, I came to challenging seams, some sewn, and some personal, and found myself finishing the cassock more than a year later. When I delivered the cassock for the final fitting, I received word that the cassock was well liked by an onlooker, saying it looked much better than the previously owned cassocks, and draped well. Now that I've made the final alterations on that one, I hope it will be as liked as the previously owned ones.
The current project is yet another cassock, but I've noticed the challenging seams aren't nearly as difficult as they once were. In fact, my husband was very surprised I only took 4 days to complete the preparation and construction phase. Tomorrow, I'll put the cassock on its owner for the first time, and see how close to " right" I was with my alterations.
I wonder sometimes, if the challenging seams get easier because I've now constructed 4 cassocks ( a number that pales in comparison to the true professionals) or if there are members of " the great cloud of witnesses" Paul describes who have come to sew with me. In either case, Glory to God for the work all 4 new cassocks will complete, and the work the tattered cassock still performs.
Oh I almost forgot, my godfather in the picture is wearing cassock number 2.
