I'm quite sure that my sewing hole hasn't grown up into a studio yet. I feel more like its in that awkward tween stage. You know what I mean, just starting to show the signs of puberty - sorta smelly - a little rude and just not looking comfortable. You'd think with 14 rooms in this old Victorian of ours that I could find a nice place to sew. I originally was up in our bedroom since its 35 feet long. We slept on one side and the other had all my sewing paraphanalia. That was fine until I needed a design wall and I had to be downstairs watching my little daughter.
So we moved it downstairs into a hole off the family room. Now its a nice hole - as holes go. There is plenty of natural light, enough space (well nearly enough space) and a workable design wall. We reclaimed my nice big work table from a lab that I used to work for (how green of us!). Still there is not enough storage for my fabric. My fabric resides way up on the third floor in what we call our loft. Previous owners had converted the attic of this old house into a bathroom/dressing room. The dressing room is a huge 10 by 12 closet with clothes on one side and fabric on open shelving on the other. Its continually a mess and one day we are going to get an organizational system that actual works but for now it is what it is.
Because my sewing hole is off my family room, everybody thinks they can go by and add their 2 cents on what's going on in there. Also it took a lot of training to teach my family that just because it didn't have a door that closed, didn't mean they could snatch any art/craft supplies they needed and that every odd and end couldn't be laid in there - even temporarily. It takes a lot of effort to keep everything in its place. For my fabric, I usually have to bring it down in a big bin from the loft, audition it in the natural light and return anything that I'm not using. I keep the bin by my table until the project is done for any fabrics that I might or might not use. Its a hassle but at least I don't have fabric all around.
I'm still dreaming of the day when we can convert the second floor of our carriage house into a usable grown up studio - complete with skylights, big white walls - oh yeah - and like my husband says - heat