In October, I was delighted to be asked by the awesome New York-based 'curated fashion eco-mmunity' (and slow fashion champions) ReFashioner to be a guest blogger for their blog, reMAG. Delighted, because when I read their fab manifesto I saw many links with my own philosophy about fashion, sustainability and the wardrobe.
It was perfect timing, too, as I had just been thinking about doing a new project following on from ideas I developed as part of my PhD research, as I explained in my first reMAG post:
As I read previous wardrobe studies – research which surveys real people’s wardrobes, checking out how many items they own, and what proportion of the items are worn – I realised I really wanted to take some time to look at my own wardrobe. I seem to have a huge amount of clothes, though I don’t buy many nowadays … and there are piles and piles of things I haven’t worn for years…
So, in my reMAG posts I’m going to be blogging about this Wardrobe Project: sharing my thoughts as I review the contents of my wardrobe, repair or rework items in need of rejuvenation, and try to ‘design’ ways of wearing more of this treasured collection of pieces I’ve gathered over the years. Along the way, I’ll pick some tasty wardrobe-related nuggets from existing academic research, and my own research data.
I've done five posts so far, so thought this was a good time to gather the links together in a post on my own blog:
Part I - in which I introduce myself, and the project
Part II - in which I look at existing research about the contents of our wardrobes
Part III - the first phase of my wardrobe inventory (underwear & hosiery)
Part IV - in which I patch some pants and darn some socks
Part V - discussing ways of thinking about unworn clothes in the wardrobe
To keep up with the project, keep an eye on the reMAG site - plus I'll add another summary post here with links to Parts VI-X, in due course!
In my thesis, I draw on a number of different areas which I see as parallels for fashion and clothing. For example, I use folk music as a way of framing my idea of homemade clothes as 'folk fashion', as outlined in this post.
Here, I'd like to discuss the parallels that I see between knitting and architecture, and more specifically between re-knitting and the reworking and repair of existing buildings.
The first mention of buildings in my thesis appears in a discussion of the benefits of making. Community architect Christopher Alexander involved local people in the design and construction of their own dwellings, and writes eloquently of the impact of this experience:
'They have made themselves solid in the world, have shaped the world as they have shaped themselves ... They, they themselves, have created their own lives, not in that half-conscious, underground, interior way that we all do, but manifestly, out there on their own land: they are alive; they breathe the breath of their own houses...' (Alexander, 1985: 322)
I love this quote! Various writers on craft talk similarly about the enjoyment of bringing something new into existence. For example, Roszika Parker ( 2010: xx) describes how the embroiderer 'holds in her hands a coherent object which exists both outside in the world and inside her headʼ and explains that this has a great positive impact on the sense of self. In short, knitting - like building - makes us feel alive and solid in the world.
Christopher Alexander pops up again with his writing about the repair and alteration of buildings. In The Timeless Way of Building (1979: 485), he observes that 'at every moment we use the defects of the present state as the starting point for the definition of the new stateʼ. This simple observation translates directly to re-knitting; in the projects that were made as part of the research, the issues which needed to be resolved with the garment - whether holey sleeves or an item that was felt to be boring - were central to the design discussions.
He goes on to discuss conservative repair versus tranformation, a distinction which corresponds with Richard Sennettʼs (2008: 200) ideas of static repair, which will ʻrestore the object to its former stateʼ, and dynamic repair, which will ʻchange the objectʼs current form or functionʼ. In the re-knitting project, I saw the knitters making the same distinction and showing a strong desire to improve on the original item, dynamically transforming it.
Buildings are sufficiently long-lasting for us to see such transformations combine and develop over time. In his book How Buildings Learn, Stewart Brand quotes Brian Eno, reflecting on the appreciation he feels for buildings which change:
The ʻtasteʼ for evolution that Eno mentions could also apply to garments and the practice of re-knitting.
In the re-knitting project, I was struck by how often the idea of 'wholeness' came up - the need for the alterations to feel part of the garment, rather than stuck on. I was surprised, and delighted, to find Christopher Alexander discussing this idea of wholeness in relation to buildings:
'When we repair something in this new sense, we assume that we are going to transform it, that new wholes will be born, that, indeed, the entire whole which is being repaired will become a different whole as the result of the repair.' (Alexander, 1979: 485)
I agree that in each re-knitting project, a new whole is born; perhaps that's what makes it so satisfying.
Alexander, C. (1979) The timeless way of building. New York: Oxford University Press.
Alexander, C. (1985) The production of houses. New York: Oxford University Press.
Brand, S. (1994) How buildings learn: what happens after they’re built. New York: Viking Penguin.
Parker, R. ( 2010) The subversive stitch: embroidery and the making of the feminine. London: I. B. Tauris.
Sennett, R. (2008) The Craftsman. London: Penguin.
I've found a rich seam of material to mine in the 'things I made when I was young' theme.
But my making wasn't restricted to sewing and knitting - as demonstrated by this beautifully preserved (by my mum) 'Cave painting in a Vitalite tub'.
Vitalite tubs = making in our house, being the ideal receptacle for all manner of craft materials. And versatile, too! This one provided the mould for my work of art, and then kept it protected so it could be photographed for a blog 25(ish) years later.
More childhood making coming soon!