The History of Salt.

My grandfather’s , Carl Westerdal, greatest joy was sending his four girls off to school in perfectly pressed and starched dresses with bows in their hair. He worked all his life as a tailor; sewing at a factory during the day and all his family’s clothes at night. The legacy of his skills being passed down was a great source of pride for him. My mother, following in his footsteps, biked to the sewing factory in her heels everyday; with me in a basket on the handlebars and my brother hanging off the back. As a single mother she worked long and hard hours to provide for us. She started at the company by sewing pockets (and only pockets!) for 6 years straight. To my delight, She would bring me home scraps of fabric from the factory floor. And although I didn’t have a lot of toys growing up, I always had a sewing machine. I have sewed since I could reach the pedal, in the beginning having to stand up to do so. During those years, my Mother made all our clothes and in turn, I created some questionable designs under her watchful eye. I knew from a very early age that this was a craft I wanted to master and had my schooling planned out years in advance. When I started my 4.5 years of Tailoring school, my grandfather inspected every stitch, examined every handmade button hole; observing and guiding me as I grew my skills.