The Sewing Curve

No Talking Tuesday today--I just finished Peter King's book, and I'm working on a short reflection about it, but I haven't had a chance to really sit down with my notes and write something coherent.  So instead, let's talk about sewing!  (Although, I must say, my musings for today do dovetail somewhat with my thoughts about The Antimodern Condition).

I was working on a dress yesterday when my mom called to chat.  She asked me what I was doing and I told her I was sewing.  She paused and said, "Your closet must be bursting with clothes!  It seems like you sew something new every week!"  I muttered something about not everything working out, and we moved on to other topics, but the comment stayed with me because it is a little bit of a sore spot for me.  I struggle a lot with acquisitiveness, and trying to resist a consumer mentality, and that is hard in post-modern society.  I'm still trying to figure out how to acquire a pre-modern mindset (and trying to figure out what that even means).  I'm pretty sensitive to waste in the world--both the sort of waste I generate in the course of my creating, and the waste I create by my own fickleness or poor choices.  I don't want to buy fabric or yarn and make things just to make them--my goal is not an overflowing closet, stash, or a constant supply of blog posts.  I sew and knit because I enjoy it, because it feeds something creative in my soul, and because I want my wardrobe to work very well for me every day.  (And because I can do both in short, punctuated bursts, a must with small children underfoot)  I'm pretty fussy about my clothing, and how it fits, feels, and looks.  I dislike being so sensitive to how clothing feels on me, but I can't really change that aspect of myself, so I'm just trying to learn how to work with it.  

I'm trying to be smarter and more choosy about my purchases on the front end, which does help, but it has been a long learning curve for me.  I'm still training my eye to see silhouettes and to understand what looks good on me when looking at a pattern or a hanging garment.  I realized recently that I'm pretty sensitive to fabric content as well, so I'm trying to be choosier about that as well.  I think the very fact that the average American woman buys more than 70 pieces of clothing per year is testament to the fact that many of us struggle with how best to dress ourselves (that and the fact that most clothing these days isn't designed to last more than three washes and thus feeds the cycle).  I want to feel contented with my wardrobe, and I mostly do, but it is a fine line to walk.  I also dislike that I have to keep things in my closet for the days when my fitted garments don't fit because of my GI issues.  I dislike that my weight swings around so much every month and that fluctuation affects whether most of the garments in my closet fit me.  I dislike that stress makes me feel like my skin is on too tightly and therefore makes me feel weird in my clothes.  Sometimes it all makes me crazy.

But about the sewing.  (Lemme 'splain.  No, wait, is too much.  Lemme sum up.) Here's the thing about my sewing this year: it has been a long sewing curve, and I haven't kept everything I've made.  Some of it I sold to various members of my reenacting group after realizing it didn't suit me, fit quite right, or I just didn't wear enough to justify keeping; some pieces I donated, and some pieces were refashioned.  And yes, I did keep some pieces.  At the moment, my closet consists of about 70% me-made garments, and I feel quite good about that, but my closet is still pretty lean, despite all my sewing.   (And given that my closet can fit no more than 14 hangers in it, this is probably for the best)

One of my takeaways from Gertie Sews Vintage Casual is that sometimes you don't know how a home sewn garment is going to work until you wear it a few times, and this is why wearable muslins are useful.  In that sense, all my sewing has been wearable muslins, because I tend not to spend very much on fabric and I usually end up tweaking a garment a few times after I finish it (and show it here).  Skirts get elastic added to the back waistband, darts and tucks added to fix gaping necklines and waistbands, dresses are taken apart and refashioned as two-piece garments, waistbands altered, skirts and sleeves shortened.  Sometimes the fixes work and I can keep wearing a garment and feeling good in it; sometimes the fix is a fail and the garment still fits badly, even though the finished product looks good on the hanger.  Sometimes the color just doesn't suit me, even though I may love the pattern--I'm trying to be more choosy about the fabric I buy so that I don't spend a lot of time on something that in the end doesn't suit my coloring.  Sometimes the fabric wears badly, or worse, shrinks after a few washes.  I always prewash my fabric, but I've had at least one skirt and one pair of trousers shrink to the point that I couldn't fit into them any longer.

  I learned a lot of things along the way, however, so I don't think I can truly say it was a waste.  I've learned something new about sewing and fitting with each garment I've sewn, as well as what types of things I am pleased to wear every day, and learned a bit more about how to knit things that I want to wear with each knitting project.  (Sometimes I think we home sewers are either master problem solvers or the best jury-riggers out there)

I don't write this to make anyone feel guilty or bad about what is or isn't in their own closet or stash, merely to explain (mostly to myself) why I do what I do, and perhaps to remind myself of my own foibles, my own obsessions, and (admittedly crazy) sensitivities.  I cope with stress in strange ways, and living in this house, in the city, with a busy husband and four children under the age of reason is stressful to me.  I know I need to manage my stress better, and understanding my triggers is one way to do so.  Knowledge is the first step to working on it.