Where the magic begins—feeling every bolt, admiring every print (yes, even the ugly ones), and dreaming up the next project. RIP to afternoons spent wandering these aisles.
Where the magic begins—feeling every bolt, admiring every print (yes, even the ugly ones), and dreaming up the next project. RIP to afternoons spent wandering these aisles.
BREVARD COUNTY — I’m not sure who needs to hear this, but the news about JoAnn Fabrics closing locations is hitting some of us harder than we expected.
When I first heard the news, I did what any rational, well-adjusted adult would do: I panicked, Googled and decided to create a list of other local fabric stores to soothe myself and to provide you a list. It was going to be fine. There had to be options. I’d build a beautiful, bustling list full of fabric wonderlands.
Except… there aren’t many.
At least not around here. I sat staring at my computer, realizing that aside from Hobby Lobby and Walmart (and no offense, but…), our fabric future is looking about as bleak as a bolt of beige polyester lining — uninspired, scratchy and absolutely nobody’s first choice.
See, sewing runs deep in my family. My grandma taught me how to sew both by hand and on a machine. She showed me how to quilt and those are memories that stick with you forever.
And back in my day (cue the nostalgic sigh), we had home economics class. Yes, children, we learned how to sew in school.
For one of my projects, I remember deciding that a professional needed a suit, and since I was clearly going places (in my 15-year-old mind), I set out to make one. My parents had just bought me a nice beginner sewing machine and I was doing so well with it that they upgraded me to a serger, based upon my grandma’s recommendation of course.
Now, for those of you who don’t know, a serger is like the cool older sibling of a sewing machine. It trims the fabric and wraps the edges all at once with multiple threads, giving you those clean, professional seams you see on store-bought clothes. It’s magic — until you accidentally have to rethread it, and then it’s more like sorcery with a side of frustration.
But back to the suit.
My mom and I made a pilgrimage to JoAnn Fabrics for the perfect pattern. Jackpot! I found a three-piece suit pattern complete with a pencil skirt, jacket and blouse. Grown-up. Classy. Ready for job interviews.
And oh, the joy of picking out fabric. I spent hours feeling every bolt, running my hands over the textures, marveling at the colors. I even appreciated the ugly ones. “Mom, check out this hideous pattern!” I’d laugh, holding up some psychedelic nightmare, which by the way, I probably would appreciate more today.
We dug through the drawers of paper patterns, those thin tissue-like sheets carefully folded into envelopes with ambitious photos on the front. It felt like discovering treasure.
I sewed that suit. Looking back, it was absolutely hideous. Peach jacket and skirt, white blouse. Why peach? Who knows. I probably thought it screamed “mature professional.” Instead, it whispered, “aspiring backup singer for an ‘80s wedding band.” But I wore it proudly to school to show off my skills – only to be made fun of course.
And now? Now I’m just sad. I know plenty of people who still rely on fabric stores for quilting, sewing projects and other creative adventures. And with JoAnn’s leaving, the options are becoming nearly nonexistent.
Unless you’re road-tripping to Amish country way up north, we’re stuck scavenging at the remaining big box stores.
Maybe it’s time to get creative. Maybe we’ll all start haunting thrift shops, repurposing old clothes, and hunting for those tiny mom-and-pop fabric shops that seem to vanish just as fast as we discover them.
I may not sew like I used to, but those memories are stitched into who I am. Every Halloween, I still get the itch and end up making my costume from scratch, just to prove I haven’t lost my touch.
People like me — we’re not giving up. We’ll find a way, even if it means piecing together scraps from wherever we can.
But JoAnn’s? We’ll miss you. Thanks for the patterns, the fabrics, the hideous prints and the peach suits.
Somehow, it feels like the end of an era.
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