Mending with GOD

Alternative fashion practices and the forgotten arts of mending & tailoring

My first memory of mending is having my grandmother reknit the sole of woolen socks, which she also used to handknit for all family from little balls of yarn, color mixing the stripes along the ankle with, to my understanding, still, perfection. At my preschool age, I would wear the socks all winter indoors, excessively sliding on the wooden lacquered floor to kill the boredom, which would cause only the heels of them to thin out and open holes. 

Recently, the recurrence of repairs and mending in a public context has been a lot more active. Ranging from closed crafty circles to anti-consumerism driven actions (think Fashion Revolution across all regions) to tech-assisted access to repair service (see Unitex, Sojo, Tingit, Mended). Additionally, some countries, like France, initiated a state-funded discount on repair services for both shoes and clothing. We also get a lot more information of the impact clothing repair has, from saving CO2e to reducing new purchases in ratio to only 1 new to every 5 items repaired. I believe, for any sentient person, being more exposed to the problematics of fast-fashion, seeking individual expression through conscious shopping in secondhand markets is the main route. Second to that, the more visually present creative approaches to makers culture in social media, adds up to the image and in more rapid push normalizes alternative to the norm, but also historically more sustainable, ways to acquire, tweak or upcycle as well as care for clothing. From life-cycle assessment data reports, to access to domestic sewing machines in public libraries (Oodi in Helsinki, Bibliotek in Copenhagen, Stadsbiblioteket in Gothenburg), this repair is cool wave creates a more in-touch relation to one's wardrobe and the garments we wear. 

There seem to be two groups of people interested in repair, and from how I see, they meet at their differences. One group prefers to buy higher value items, as long-term investments; therefore, repairing them oneself or by a professional is a form of maintenance, but also an extension to the wear cycle, prolonging the value as well. This group might seek to learn how to hem pants or resole the fine Italian leather shoes right before they get damaged. There are a lot of services around the world catering to this group, from handbag experts (see The Handbag Clinic, London) to invisible knit alterations (see Alterknit NYC) to your local tailor, just like me, who will restitch the Prada jacket seam. There is another group that focuses more on mending and even highlighting the visible mending. Whether it's contract mending, as art practice (see Rachel Meade Smith), contemporary interpretations on Japanese sashiko and kintsuki, mending focuses on the visible repairs, which tend to enhance what is broken, almost like a philosophy, that what falls apart can be joined back together. Most commonly, it might already be a discarded or donated item that is visibly mended, a kind of reviving of life. Through my research for my practice in general, I have always kept eyes open for both group movements, and at the core of it all, found it important that the repair method has these variations, as it points exactly at the same pitch - repairing/mending the disconnection from clothes, damaged by fast-fashion and the easy discard one is left to do.

As we have been discussing the scope of this written piece, I was thinking that the access to repair service, be it paid or self-learned and executed, creates opportunities for people to pull out the most loved garments from the back of the closet. Some ripped, some too big or too small, some missing a closure or trim, all have one thing in common - there are too many personal memories connected to the item to just easily discard it. Reasons for that might be that you have sourced the item through vintage resellers, raising the value of the item over time and social codes connected to it. If you, like us, have a bag of clothes that just need to be repaired, it looks like nothing should stop you from being able to do it anymore.

A tailor provides a service that might range from simple tasks as folding up the hem, to more complicated jobs like changing a ripped lining in a jacket. Historically, that has been done out of scarcity, lack of materials, and new production costs being higher than repair costs. My dear friend Daniela Toledo Escárate worked on documenting virado - a technique of reversing a jacket or coat inside out, to extend the wear cycle of a garment. Practiced by her grandmother in Chile, this technique highlighted the importance of sewing skills within the domestic realm, as it would not only balance family finances but also cherish the value of existing garments. This practice, virado, started to diminish with the influx of second-hand clothing, offering cheap substitutes to tailor-made garments in big quantities. Simultaneously, the materiality of second-hand clothing, produced in bulk, did not have the same qualities as a tailored item, which eventually would lead to its shorter life span, and inability to apply the technique to such items. The biggest paradox is that the influx of second-hand clothing never stopped, and as of right now, we know the Atacama desert is the biggest dumping ground of sometimes even unworn mass-produced items. So what was once culturally cherished, like bringing a jacket to a tailor to reverse it, has been forcefully replaced by the global chain of discarding the items so fast that there is no space for it anymore. It is now evaluated that the amount of clothing that is on Earth right now could dress six generations in the future. Should we maybe start repairing what we have?

For someone like me, who grew up being exposed to repair and garment-making at home (my mom had her atelier on the ground floor of our house), it has naturally become a second mother tongue. Fixing a ripped seam or making a skirt from scratch has been as easy as changing a light bulb. I believe that it also extends to other households in Lithuania, as someone in the family always knew how to sew and or another family member had a sewing machine sitting in a corner. I remember from our “Dailė ir darbeliai” class, similar to what arts and crafts or slojd education in school is, but most of my classmates could not see the reasoning behind it, as their mom, grandmother, aunt, cousin, or sister already were sewing at home. There was also a state-funded distribution of printed manuals, explaining the different stitching and repair methods one could use for any household application. Here I feel like I need to inform you of a fact that up to early 1900, every textile in the household was handwoven. From towels and bedding to aprons, shirting, and woolen scarves, it was the responsibility of the women in the home. These textiles would be carried over as kraitis to one's family, both because of their value and durability. A dedicated spider, textile- and text-based artist, Morta Jonynaitė has highlighted this topic in her Never-Drying Towels series. This tradition would naturally lead to the skill of sewing, mending, and repairing, as an extension to one's personal skill set for life. I strongly want to believe that this value of skill is carried over through generations without interruption to this day. While previously, one would learn from an elderly family member or neighbour, now you can learn it from informal sewing classes or by following online tutorials.

While working in a repair station at a retail store in Stockholm, it came to my honest surprise, when a customer would bring a pair of pants with a button falling off, indicating the button is in the pocket. Surely, it was my job to repair, but I could not help but judge (as we all do and often) a grown adult lacking skill, or time to fix it themselves. Sometimes I would offer a free button and threaded needle, but I was met with a refusal every time. In contrast to that, I now joyfully spot and find more non-profit initiatives, such as non-profit organisations (see Re:wair and Trash Girls) and public libraries, that promote repairs, upcycling of one's wardrobe, and give free access to sewing machines. Isn’t it just a pleasure to know you can do something yourself? Luckily to the broad scope of what sewing and craft can do, one can choose which method, a service, or access to it to choose for oneself. This democratization allows one to get involved in it as a hobby, a necessity or a radical act.

I do want to highlight that in some cases, repairs (but not mending in general) definitely need a skilled professional. Tailors are taught and through their practice gain knowledge on a wide range of garments, which is for me personally the beauty of this craft. You are always learning, upskilling yourself to be a better tailor, one garment at a time. From seeing visually in one's mind how the pattern pieces of a sewn garment look, to knowing which seam has to be undone first, to go back a step in order to repair or adjust a garment. Thanks to the current repair and maker movement online and offline, everyone has access to a simple tutorial. These tutorials and workshops are great for turning an old men’s shirt into a cute top, or a boring bed cover into a fun grocery bag. However, nothing will ever compete with the knowledge gathered through years of practice and education. But where does one find a trusted tailor when in need? Can one really trust the local corner shop for one's most cherished vintage archival pieces or a bag of them?The accelerating interest in circular clothing practices has not gone unnoticed by the tech space. At a time when there are still many obstacles before someone can participate in a more sustainable interaction with their clothes, a diversity of digitalised services that streamline that engagement have appeared. Applications like Tingit and the recently launched Unitex & Humana collaboration motivate consumers to extend the life of their garments by connecting them to a tailor for repair. These services can be accessed through a simple digital form where the customer can detail the specifications of the repair, after which the platform manages the security, shipping, and return — guaranteeing that a professional tailor will handle the work. Further along the circular journey, digital marketplaces such as Vestiaire Collective and Sellpy streamline the resale process, making it easy and accessible for international customers from the convenience of their homes. Projects like KURB facilitate the transition into a circular economy by empowering consumers with discovery tools and resources to catalyse that journey. By promoting more sustainable and sentimental relationships with one’s wardrobe, they believe the critical cultural shift towards a better fashion ecosystem can be achieved — making finding a 1998 Prada fleece vest in your size not just possible, but enjoyable.

For Garments On Demand, the relationship you gain with a garment made for you, on demand, to fit your measurements, is the priority. That is also why as part of the service, I also offer repairs and alterations, because nothing is ever stable, but I want to be sure that you and the garment have a relationship that threads through each wear, and tear, storing its value in its pockets and seam allowances. It is also how I, a garment-maker, relate to garments. Not only due to time and skill put into it, but also because I feel we need to relate to our garments a bit more, ideally as much as to let’s say our own hair or favorite cup. Throughout my education in fashion, it took me a really long time to get over the heartbreak of letting go of my prototypes, which is also the reason my sister and some of my friends have worn them as garments through acts of donation. It has also taken me a while to not hold my breath every time I had to cut into a finished garment, let's say to shorten it, adjust it, or remake it into something else. Due to a very simple exposure therapy, I have gotten more used to it, knowing the task creates an added value, but I hope to never become desensitized to it. 

So if you are in some way also wanting, looking to accept the value of our wardrobes, next time you are doing laundry or spring wardrobe switch, talk to your clothes. Remind yourself where you wore it last, why you like it and what you appreciate about it. Recognize how it is made, how it feels, and how many seams it has, resew its buttons. And lastly, get it repaired when needed because it has never been made easier than now.

Written by: Karolina Janulevičiūtė