There are three reasons why I sew. Though late to blogging (if not to lurking) I
have been sewing with some seriousness since 2007, and in a less intense manner
since 4th grade. Which… was
quite a while ago. But I’ve really
stepped up the pace in the past few years, since discovering online resources
and buying ye Janome. I haven’t bought
new outerwear since May 2009. It’s a
rare day when I don’t wear at least one item made by me, & quite frequently
I’m fully dressed by home. I also make a
lot of my daughter’s clothing. (I do op
shop btw, so it’s not always all my own work.)
But all this doesn’t tell you why I sew. A big part of it is certainly bound up in the
creative process fueled by all of the above. I write, I draw, I
make – it’s a big part of how I see myself.
I’m very intolerant of the frustrations and time involved in the process but addicted to the thrill of seeing
something made real and 3D that once existed only in my head.
But that’s not the only reason. I like the fact that when I sew I know the
conditions under which my garments are made – that the only sweated labour is
my own. It’s interesting to
see the sweatshop point coming up on various blogs, with reviews of a book
(which I haven’t read) called “Overdressed
– the shockingly high cost of cheap fashion.” http://overdressedthebook.com/. I have read a previous British book on
the topic – “To Die For – is fashion killing the world?” & I can recommend it. I imagine that the themes are remarkably similar - if it’s all about
sweatshops and the impact of cashmere on the Gobi desert, and I can’t imagine
why it wouldn’t be.
As sewers we can avoid this to some degree but in a sense,
we can only improve things by a few degrees, it’s not a perfect system. I buy new fabric, and much of the problem with clothing
production is certainly mimicked in the mills which produce the cloth. (I’m pretty sure it was the cloth mills that
were first called “dark satanic”). I
suspect that we sewers are fooling ourselves if we take too high a moral ground
over clothing provenance, because do we trouble our heads too frequently over
fabric provenance when we click buy or take the roll to the counter? And of course, don’t get me started on the
shoes. But it does cut down on the sweating.
Anyway abrupt transition from the high flown here, but the final
reason I sew is illustrated by this waistband.
On a not inexpensive pair of fine woollen trousers bought eight years
ago, when I went back to work post children. Check out that puckering. It makes me look like a bag of wadding.
I wasn’t sewing much then, nor particularly conscious of the
deficiencies of ready to wear (snorts
– I thought it was all my fault) Only today when I tried them on again did I
realise how lumpy this lumpy waistband makes ME look.
I can forgive a harassed sweated worker for not giving a shit how the
puckered waistband of a pair of trousers will look on an overweight western
woman. But no-one else along the line
gave a shit either. Fashion doesn’t care
if you look frumpy, just so long as you keep paying. In fact quite the reverse, because if you
never get it right. but keep hoping you will, you will keep paying. The relationship basically exists until you
put the money down, and then it’s over (unless you are a “brand ambassador” ,
but then you probably didn’t pay at all.)
I’m not going to pay snooty people to make me feel bad about myself
because I can do it at home for free.
Even that, I prefer to make for myself …
Even that, I prefer to make for myself …
ps update on last post - all first world problems solved - new shoes now as follows:
 |
| Pixie boots and tan! ta, Wittner exchange. |
And D happily wearing slippers..!
