loose threads
At the beginning of 2020, I started working with sashiko, a Japanese art of mending. I wanted to learn another way to "draw" with cloth and thread.
In sashiko, the stitches are visible from the outside, often repeating in geometric, fractal-like patterns. Mending the garment strengthens the piece structurally *and* makes it more beautiful.
Making the most of things. Experimenting with sashiko-inspired mending techniques to repair a beloved pair of jeans. Month #2 of the lockdown. Photo by Ollya Andreeva.
A garment can be mended again and again, each layer of patches and stitches adding to the previous one. Passed along for generations, they become treasured vintage textiles, called boro.
Sashiko was born out of economic necessity, among farming communities who had neither the money for new cloth nor the skills for more sophisticated dyeing techniques.
As we're making meaning out of the coronavirus and global lockdowns, the metaphor of sashiko came to mind. Threads of our individual lives and collective institutions are coming apart. We're at the raw and fraying edges of where old meets new.
Looking ahead, what patterns will we include in the design? What parts do we keep, or cut away altogether? What do we do about the areas where the fabric is not yet torn, yet for a long time wearing very thin?
I'm repairing a beloved pair of jeans from a thrift store on Haight Street. I thought the fix would be quick, but with each sewing session I'd discover there's more involved. A stencil. A washable pen. Thread of a different color. Patiently, I wait between arrivals, making the most of the supplies I have on hand.
As I write, the patch is held together by temporary basting stitches, loose threads tumbling out. Half of the sashiko design is sewn on. In my zeal, I accidentally sewed the pocked shut. But we're all doing the best we can. Maybe that's enough for now.
Addendum, March 2021: While the pandemic has worn on, I've started mending a second pair of jeans. I've run out of thread again, so I've set them aside as I wait for the order to ship. Due to limited staff, the small business I’m happy to support has set the expectation that orders will be delayed. The postal service is still catching up from mail from months before. A new president is in place, vaccines are making their way to us, and businesses and institutions are moving forward with fresh eyes on longstanding issues of racial justice. As we reach the one year mark of the pandemic, I look at these questions again. Committed, I pick up the jeans and continue to mend.