I kinda have a thing about sewing boxes. I've always liked sewing boxes. I remember I had a pink wooden one when I was a little girl that my grandmother had painted with little white flowers. I loved that I had my very own tomato pincushion, measuring tape and other sewing notions. I later graduated to a plastic handled case that held not only those things, but my embroidery floss and hoops. I had that case for well over 25 years. Since then my stash of sewing items has grown from fitting in that small case to filling an entire room. I know I can't fit all my notions into a small box anymore, but I still can't resist a nice sewing box when I see one.
There is something about a person's sewing box that speaks volumes about their personality. I have a particular passion for the pincushion/thread keep/box combination type. My mother gifted me with this little gem several years ago. I love it for its plain and simple lines—it says, "I am humble and down-to-earth."
Although the same size and function, this next one leans a bit more to the artsy, free-spirit side.
It has a lazy susan top and tramp-art-style decoration that says, "I like a bit of drama."
My latest acquisition I find even more interesting. It has a lazy susan, and while it is difficult to tell in the photo, it is decorated with a gold leaf fleur de lis between each spool and on the lid. Very high-end and classy in its day, I'm sure.
The box lid even swivels dramatically to reveal a place for notions. Over all it is a lovely piece that says, "Look at me."
I have to admit I've had this for a month now, but I just noticed its dirty little secret. The top of this high-end classy piece was actually just recycled from a spoon-carved panel of some sort.
Proof you shouldn't judge a box by its cover. How often do we make these same assumptions about each other?