If you like my bags, you have my husband to thank.
I mean, I sewed them of course. And dreamed them up and sketched them out and chose the fabrics….but my company began when my big doof of a husband misheard “Kitchenaid mixer” as “sewing machine” one Christmas. Gotta love husbands sometimes.
I thanked him as graciously as I could through gritted teeth (because KITCHENAID!), and slapped away not-so-fond sewing memories of cutting, pinning, and basting with my mother and thought: No thank you. But with the birth of my neighbor’s beautiful daughter that year, I was inspired to make a sensory toy and a few doodads. That poor stuffed giraffe patiently absorbed gallons of tears and listened to my naughty words, but by God! I learned how to sew!
My own beautiful daughter was born nearly seven years ago, and I found myself, mid-winter, with a carrier AND a giant diaper bag AND a baby AND wearing a puffy coat. Just leaving the house became a Sisyphean task.
I zeroed in on the diaper bag as the source of my woes. Really, what is with these diaper bags? Do we really need four pockets for bottles? Hundreds of dinky compartments? And how many blasted diapers does a normally-intestined baby really need? And lo, my first bag was born: a slim wristlet big enough for a diaper or two and a few essentials.
As my child grew, so did my line of bags: a peepee pouch for her peepee pants at daycare. A slightly bigger bag for days at the beach. Snack bags for the THOUSANDS of crackers and apple slices that sustained my daughter through all of toddlerhood. I always chose flexible cotton laminate in colorful fabrics that made me laugh and were easy to clean. My friends noticed and put in orders...THEIR friends noticed and put in orders...and so it went.
My baby just finished kindergarten. It was her childhood that inspired these bags, but there’s room enough for a bit of my own as well. Right there on the label, from the game every kindergartner in northern Minnesota knows, including my daughter: Grey Duck.