Make do and mend

or a day in the life of a would be fashionista!

I sometimes imagine that in another life I would be something of a style icon, a fashionista always on the cutting edge. Perfectly accessorised, beautifully made up with the perfect red lipstick, never a hair out of place… dream on Gina! I’m sitting typing this in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, designed for warmth and comfort and not much else. As my typical day oscillates between dog walks, gardening or loafing around on the sofa with a good book or my knitting, there seems little point putting on a dress or some beads, paired with this season’s matching belt, only to take everything off again to walk the dog or dig up some potatoes. I conclude that I am a lazy dresser who will always put comfort over style.

But the whole subject of fashion and the way we dress ourselves is far more than just a question of style. With over 350,000 tonnes of used (but often still wearable) clothing thrown away annually in the UK alone, the fashion industry creates a real problem in today’s society. And the production of all these throwaway clothes is one of the most environmentally polluting industries, exploiting natural resources and releasing toxic chemicals into our waterways. Add to that the problems of safe working conditions and fair wages for workers and we can see that the fashion industry leaves a shocking trail of environmental and social devastation.

But as individuals we have the power to make change without sacrificing style, by making small changes to the way we buy, care for and discard our clothes.

The first thing we need to do is be more mindful about the clothes we buy. When we buy mass produced, low cost items they are often poorly made and will fall apart, so rather than spending less per item and buying more, it is better to spend a little more on just one or two quality items. Quality items that fit us well and that we will wear over and over again. It might seem obvious but I’m sure we are all guilty of buying things which we hardly ever wear. By knowing what colours and styles suit our complexions and body shapes best, we will make better choices and buy clothes that make us feel good, and consequently that we will wear frequently.

We also need to think about how we care for our clothes. Washing garments uses a lot of water and energy and most things do not need to be washed every time we wear them. If we keep our bodies clean our clothes are not going to get that dirty. Swift stain removal with natural products that we have in our kitchens such as bicarbonate of soda, or white wine vinegar with cold water can deal with small spills and they often work better than toxic stain removal products. And talking of toxic cleaning, many items that say they are dry clean only, can be gently hand washed. Pure wool is best of all because it has natural anti-bacterial qualities that keep it clean and smelling fresh after several outings.

But enough of the lecturing because I’m quite sure readers of this will already know all these things anyway, but it serves as an introduction to what has sparked my interest this week and that is mending and in particular visible mending.

Mending our clothes is another way to make them last longer, creating a more sustainable wardrobe. I read recently that some people do not even know how to sew on a button and rather than reach for a needle and thread they are more likely to leave something lingering in the wardrobe unworn. At this point I think I might be shamed into reaching for my work basket as I have two cardigans waiting to have their buttons sewn back on, something I have been putting off because I know I need to find replacement buttons plus it’s not my favourite sewing task!

But over the past week I have discovered visible mending on knitwear. I have done a few visible repairs on jeans in the past, which I patched and stitched with sashiko style embroidery, and I have added applique to a T-shirt to cover up small holes but tackling repairs on knitwear is something fairly new for me.

I suppose I should feel proud that I have raised sons who see the value in maintaining and repairing clothes although my heart sinks a little and I wonder what I’m going to find when I’m met with the words “Mummm… you like sewing don’t you?” To be fair Joe had already attempted a repair to the underarm holes in his lambswool sweater but the 36+ additional moth holes proved to be beyond his skillset. Knowing that I wanted to practise doing visible mending he gave me his sweater so I could hone my skills, not really minding what I did with it as it was already beyond wearing in its current state. Those moths had had a state banquet with this sweater, never mind a feast.

I started by watching excellent video on darning knitwear by Flora Collingwood-Norris (available to purchase on her website) and promptly invested in her book which is packed full of wonderful examples of creative mending. I selected some suitable wools with which to darn, and I set to work on the sweater. One week and twenty eight darns later (some covered more than one hole) it’s finished and knowing Joe I think he’ll wear it, so even if that’s just for messing about in his garden it’s good to know I’ve extended its life.

His second sweater didn’t have quite so many holes just two rather large ones centre front that I’m not convinced were moths, so I attempted something rather more invisible with moderate success, which has inspired me to get to work on the ever growing pile of hand knitted socks that have unravelled edges and worn holes over the years… but first maybe I should sew on those buttons! And if you haven’t tried visible mending I urge you to give it a try and wear those mends like little badges of honour. It really is incredibly satisfying

I will finish with a story to illustrate how caring for our clothes can make them last a lifetime. Back in the late 70s whilst on holiday in Scotland my parents brought back some cream Aran wool bought directly from the mill. I knitted myself a jacket that I wore constantly. It fell out of fashion, and I confess it was consigned to wearing around the garden and latterly for keeping me warm in the studio, where it picked up paint on the very worn out cuffs. It wasn’t fit to be seen, so in an effort to rejuvenate the jacket, it was given a good wash, seams were repaired and both cuffs were ripped back so I could pick up the stitches and reknit them in a similar wool. And as a result, the jacket is as good as new.

It might not be the height of fashion and it’s not going to convince anyone of my fashionista/style icon status, but it makes me smile to see this picture of me wearing it almost forty years ago and to know it looks just the same today. It’s only me that’s looking older and worn out!

And I know it’s about forty years ago because the small child I’m dragging along (also wearing a handknit that was passed on to a new generation) is my eldest son who has passed his fortieth birthday and now has his own little children to drag along. I can’t help but feel the jacket will probably outlive me and I hope that one day maybe it will find a new lease of life with someone else who appreciates something lovingly made, mended and maintained.