erikamoen

Thready or Knot (Sewing Update - Double Whammy)

Published: March 10th 2024, 7:17:09 am

Oh jeez, you guys! 

I did volunteer work today???

These are photos from last month, though, they have extremely little to do with what I did today, except that both involve sewing. 

Ok, so to explain the photos: These are from my last Sewcial Studies historical costuming group meet-up, wherein I worked on my stays. Oh! Big news there: We decided on naming the club Sewcial Studies, because we're being social while we sew, and since our unifying topic is historical costuming, we've gotta study up the fashions of ye olden tymes to make sure we're making period accurate(ish) pieces. WORD PLAY!

I'm at the stage of my stays assembly where I'm sewing together the three layers of each piece. There's the decorative outer layer, a middle one (for strength?), and the inner layer that will press up against my torso. And I'm also sewing in the channels that my boning (NO LAUGHING, YOU) will slide through, to structure this pre-corset. For as much sewing as I do, I only eeeever touch my sewing machine when I have adult supervision because I am irrationally(?) terrified of this amazing beast. 

Now, on to the stuff that I didn't document through photos:

I was a volunteer sewist at Repair PDX today! Oh jeez! Oh boy!!!

They organize Repair Cafés, where volunteers fix broken household items for free. Your toaster is toast? Your vacuum sucks? Your blender is busted? Just bring it on down to one of their monthly-ish meet-ups where repairers volunteer their skills to fix your shit up for free. Very cool! Unfortunately, I know zero about electronics. I can't even successfully give people the password to our wi-fi without making Matt sort it out for them. 

However! 

The latest Repair PDX newsletter went out last week and it included something... thrilling: An ALL SEWING repair cafe, both for people who use machines and (dare I hope?) hand sewers! YES!

Hand sewing: that's my thing! 

So I reached out and got myself added to the volunteer list, which meant I actually had to go somewhere new today and be completely out of my element in a sea of new faces. It felt like the first day of school- I had no idea if I was in the right place or with the right group of people and I felt desperately insecure as I stuck out (I imagined) like a big awkward thumb. Of course everyone was lovely and helpful and I even wound up seated next to someone I've met through mutual friends before and now we've exchanged phone numbers! 

I was so comically nervous that I basically had to re-learn how to sew each time I got a new piece that needed mending. Like, I had to compute how to do the simplest things that normally I wouldn't think twice about. Even with this impediment, though, the clients(?) were so grateful and so impressed as the holes in their clothes closed up in front of them. It wasn't my finest work but if you've never used a needle and thread ever I guess it looks like magic! I'd be in awe too if I were watching somebody repair my blender, even if they weren't proud. 

It caught me by surprise how grateful people were and how much of a difference this small act would make for them in a meaningful way. 

Sewing is my hobby and I've begun mending because it is practical to extend the lifespan of my clothes, but mostly I'm doing it because it's fun. If I need to? I can go out and buy new socks. I could buy a brand new winter jacket right now if I really needed to. I mean, I can't just drop large sums of money on a regular basis, but... basically? I can afford to replace my worn out clothing, and so can my other sewing-mending friends. We're just choosing to do this instead.

Today I was fixing items that can't just be easily replaced with a purchase. I mean, I can't paint everybody with the same brush, of course. Some people had spouses with Google jobs, and they just wanted to have a beloved item repaired in their community rather than buy new. But there were other people who gave me clothes that they depend on. They need these pants fixed or else they're down one pair of pants. 

I met so many people. They told me about their lives as they sat across from me at the table, watching me stitch together their shirts and stocking caps and pajamas and pretty dresses and worker's pants. The construction worker who discovered fly fishing during the pandemic. The mother of four who moved from a conservative town so her kids could feel safer. The librarian who proudly showed me a photo of her cat's perfect, beautiful scowl. The shy teen with vibrant teal hair who asked if it was ok if they just caught up on their assigned reading while I worked instead of talking (Yes). 

It's very humbling to hold a stranger's clothes, to bring them close to your face as you pierce your needle through its layers and make your thread a part of it, an integral piece of this fabric that somebody is going to wear on their body as they live their normal life. 

If I had slightly less self-control over my corniness I would build a metaphor about threads and fabric and community and lots of little strands weaving together to be a part of a much bigger whole, but fortunately I am a bastion of cynicism who would never stoop to such mawkishness U_U 

Ahem.

If you're in the Portland area, sign up for the Repair PDX mailing list and bring your broken things in to a cafe session. If you come on a sewing day, maybe you'll sit down at the table and I'll be the sewer sitting across from you. Maybe I'll stitch up your pants in an old church basement while you tell me your story and at the end of the afternoon, even though we'll go our separate ways, we'll still be connected by that single thread we sewed between us, strangers stitched together in the fabric of our community.

Or maybe your pants just won't have a big ol' hole in the ass any more and I'll get to delude myself into thinking I'm a Good Person and we'll both come away from the encounter satisfied with what we got.