Bedding and Its Descendants

Duvet Cover: cotton, 2013

Tugged on the duvet cover to bring the duvet's warmth up to ear-level on a recent chilly evening. Heard a distinct sound--the rapid buzz of fibers giving way.

Made a new cover (photo, above) cutting panels of fabric for a snug fit. A friend has observed that having a cover that is slightly tight prevents a duvet from shifting and bunching. This is decidedly true.

Tears and holes are patchable until the surrounding fibers are too weak to support a patch. Then large pieces of fabric are divided into smaller ones using the strongest pieces for new projects. It's an organic progression. A calico sheet became the lining of a hat and a pair of pajamas. After awhile the pajamas began to wear out. The fabric is now becoming part of rug.

Random details:
A curtain rod with fabric draped across it serves as a headboard. (The bed looks mighty small from this perspective!) The pair of pillow cases were made, gosh, a long while ago. The afghan was inherited from a grandmother. Never saw her with a crochet hook; unsure where it originated.

Lilies are on the nightstand. As lily blossoms begin to wither they emit a concentrated fragrance that swirls about. It's an incredible sensory moment before they entirely fade.

Mending

Darning, 2013

A shawl that has been worn in the wintertime for years had a small hole which had begun to widen.

In the evening darned it, weaving fine wool yarn across the gap. The next morning examined the shawl by daylight. Spread it wide. Turned it over. Was unable to find the mend. It was as though it had healed. Ludicrous. But it did take awhile to find it.

There's an economy to fixing things and an environmental advantage to preserving rather than discarding. What is it about mending that is so satisfying? There are benefits beyond the practical.

Laundromat

Rain skirt, Washday Blouse, 2013

Necklace, 2007

Photography by Robert Lucy

Had attempted to squeeze almost too much into a busy morning. When Robert Lucy arrived to photograph I apologized for having to dash to the laudromat to pick up laundry from the dryer. The good spirited Mr. Lucy suggested he'd come along for the walk and take photographs.

In college a friend who loved wearing jeans and a tee periodically arrived in the cafeteria for lunch dressed in a skirt and blouse. The explanation was always, "laundry day". 

Rain skirt and...Washday Blouse.

Resilience

Shaken (as likely you are).

On Friday evening following September 11th went to a synagogue. It was overflowing. After the prayer service the dense crowd streamed outside into the dark night, down the steps leading onto the sidewalk, heading home. A man who had been among the first to reach the sidewalk enlisted the help of two other men to unfurl a banner. They stood at the curb together, facing the throng on the sidewalk and steps and held the banner high. A cheer went up! Addressed to one woman but read by all was a marriage proposal.

Resilience.

Inner Beauty

Hidden on the inside, each seam of the rain skirt has bound edges:

Interior of rain skirt. Bound seam.

A seam on the inside of a blouse in progress. Edges are stitched by hand:

Hand sewn edge of seam. Fabric: silk crepe de chine.

The size of the stitches.

The finished blouse is in the Laundromat post (even though it looks like a different color here)!

The Rainskirt

Rain Skirt (water-resistant taffeta), 2013

The idea of making the skirt gestated for three years. Then, as though the idea had occurred in a moment, three weeks ago began to drape it.

Used rainwear fabric. That is what was on hand. Heavy materials such as marble may be carved to look light and soft. Fabric that is inherently light and soft may be woven and draped to appear structured and crisp. Describing what it is like to wear a garment--to feel the material, to hear its rustle or silence, to be surrounded by it--requires many words. Yet it is simple. There are deep pleats. A fitted waist. It has a percussive rustle. A rainskirt for a ball. Or Brooklyn.

A bird is preening on a branch of the tree outside the window as I write. His colorful tail feathers are fanned out as he attends to them. Very much consider how to make garments that are beautiful and functional like birds' feathers. More advanced technology for textiles! Imagine a fabric that would adjust to the climate, allowing one to be perfectly warm or cool without heating an entire house or running an air conditioner. Beauty and function- a union to be sought in garment design. 

Ersatz Fur Hat

Ersatz Fur Hat, 2013
Smartphone photo, alas. Hoping graininess works with the Edwardian vibe.

Tend to favor wide brimmed hats. It has been a blustery winter, however, when a strong gust of wind will cause a lightweight wide brimmmed hat to take flight and become an urban tumbleweed rolling along the pavement. Have sprinted! Hat pins? On a windy day the pinned part of the hat remains anchored as the rest bobs up and down. After a truck generously slowed down to avoid the renegade hat that had blown into the street, I bowed to the driver and began designing a winter hat.

Thought about how to engineer the brim while walking home, riding the subway, etc. The material is fairly heavy so it needed to have support. There were experiments (many)! The hat is warm, able to withstand moderate gusts of wind and turns out to be a good meeting hat--folks initiate conversations. I quite like that!

It's an Edwardian hat. Also Cookie Monsterish.

The brim is shaped with a wire (secured by hand). 

Mittens à la Neige

Mittens in Blizzard: waterproof  coated cotton canvas, 2013

A pair of waterproof mittens. Even hands are subject to winter's reverse strip tease of layer upon layer! 

Utility and warmth: The outer mitten is waterproof canvas. The interior mitten is fleece.

The pattern is based upon a mitten worn for many years [mitten, singular--thus the impulse to make a pair]! It's comprised of a of a wide gauntlet-like cuff, a palm piece and separate thumb piece with a gusset.

Louise Bourgeois

Mending, 2013

In the garment district there's a small shop that stocks corsetry supplies. Its focus is as narrow the pathway between its counters and shelves. A shallow rut has been worn into the floorboards over the years by costumers and designers, interns and students.

Like well-trod floorboards when a garment has been much worn there's a paring down to the underlying structure. Threads become visible. Movements leave traces of friction--cuffs fray, elbow areas wear out. 

A sweater bought years ago had developed a hole in each sleeve. The sweater with its many virtues--of color, warmth and delicateness--deserved a decent mend that would benefit both its function and appearance.

Rather than use a darning needle took an alternate approach: crochet. Am utterly without practice in this area of needlecraft. The process was a discovery. With a crochet hook looped yarn through the knitted stitches around the irregular periphery of the opening. While darning is grid-like, crochet naturally works in a spiral. Proceeded along the border spiraling into the interior. Worked the stitches in the first sleeve until the spiral closed. The second sleeve had a larger hole. When all the loose stitches had been incorporated into that mend there was an opening which was left as is.

The result might be reminiscent of a crochet covered window shade pull or the web-like embroideries of Louise Bourgeois. Craft and art.

Before mending (gap approx. 2" wide) 

After mending!

It's soothing to work stitch by stitch in the round. Another sweater [these two are stalwarts of the winter wardrobe] had gradually developed a gaping hole at the hem of the sleeve. With this new approach and a spool of darning yarn had a remedy. Now the mend is a design feature.

Happiness, a Renewable Resource

Gazelle Neck: Cotton Thermal Jersey, 2012
(with in-process dress draped beneath)

It has been four years since I've bought clothing.* Deprivation? Hardly. Happiness!

At a holiday party a friend spoke about her two year old's love of  sweeping (using a child-size broom). "She likes it better than playing with any of her toys," she marveled. There is joy in self-reliance for both the toddler using a broom to help sweep and the grown-up dressing in garments she makes.

The decision to make what I wear rather than to purchase clothing happened in an an instant, without premeditation. There was hardly any intention of it becoming a lifestyle! 

Why continue? Has avoiding shopping made me happy? Nah, that's not it. It's the practice that evolved from that decision: the devotion to making and autonomy. That generates happiness which fuels this endeavor!

(With the pattern for the gazelle neck top made another version in cotton thermal. A pair of love birds nestles above the hem.)

*socks aside