I'm learning to sew - again

Growing up, I was involved. In my school, in my community, in extra-curricular activities. My mom definitely knew the value of having activities in life - new skills, connections with new people, a new lens through which to see the world. But the thing is, most of the things didn't stick. I was a quitter (sorry Mom). Maybe this is a reflection on myself and how I view my place in the world, but I could rarely keep up with a hobby (or sport or skill) for more than a year or two. And sewing was one of those skills.

I learned the basics when I was nine or ten. I knew how to thread a machine, how to backstitch and that pinking shears were strangely necessary... And that was it. My interest in sewing never really developed into a lasting interest and love for the craft. I had no need to make my own clothes, and even if I wanted to, most of the available patterns were outdated. There was just no reason for me to keep up with it.

Fast forward to today. Slowly, over the last year or so, I've been drawn back toward sewing. It started with the gift of a free sewing machine from my cousin, who was moving away from Toronto and left her (second-hand) sewing machine in my care. It's a Singer Stylist 513, and it sad in its carrying case under a mound of other junk for the better part of a year before I could convince myself to re-learn some of the basics.

With my interest in sustainability has come the realization that to be truly sustainable, I need to have a sense of commitment to the things I use in daily life. Whether it's furniture, shoes, appliances, or clothes, I need to carefully choose the new items that I bring into my life. I want my things to be made of quality materials, to last a long time, to employ ethical labour, and to be easily repaired instead of replaced.

Maybe you can see where I'm going with this. I became interested in repairing clothes. My boyfriend is an endless source of holey socks and ripped seams, and for a long time I threw these in the trash. One day I decided I would start darning socks, and hand-sewing armpit holes, along with a few other mini-repair projects. It felt good to be able to restore something well enough that it could be worn again! I felt almost like a librarian repairing a book and then watching it go back into circulation, to be enjoyed for years to come. I wanted more of this feeling. 

My triumphant return to machine sewing was an experimental alteration project - a pair of Jeff's pants were much too wide in the leg for him to wear (fashionably). You'll notice a trend here... Jeff's wardrobe is a great place for me to trial-run new ideas. He is a pragmatist who doesn't care much for fancy clothes, and I mean that in the best way possible. He is practical in all the ways I am not. 

Anyway, I bought a book on sewing and pattern design, watched YouTube videos about threading the machine, and even had to buy new parts and repair the machine when it malfunctioned (this is a whole other story). Then I did it. I fixed the pants!

In the photo, the leg on the left is unaltered, while the one on the right has been "skinnified".

Finally, I ordered some fabric with plans to make something for myself. I had the Pomona Pants pattern (by Anna Allen Clothing) in mind, because there were no side seams, and the waistband was elasticated. Sewing patterns seem to have gone through quite the renaissance recently. Patterns can be bought online, downloaded as PDF files, printed at home, and the pages taped together. The printing and assembling wasn't very fun, and in the future I may try taking the PDF to a copy shop to print on large paper. 

The fabric was a red linen from Blackbird Fabrics. I chose linen for a summery garment, and because I know linen is a strong and long-lasting plant-based fibre. I bought the only colour that was on sale, because I didn't want to waste a very expensive fabric on a project that was still experimental.

Sewing makes me feel very powerful. The machine is loud (at least mine is), and it takes my entire brain to focus on what I'm doing, and I love having a hobby that completely envelops me. I love that I am making something uniquely mine, exactly how I want it, with fabric that I've chosen for its sustainability, on a hand-me-down sewing machine that I've repaired with my own hands. I feel resourceful. I feel competent. I feel empowered.