Years ago, my sister and I pledged to not give each other presents on birthdays and at holidays. We are allowed, however, to give each other this or that when the mood feels right. In late 2018, she sent me this bracelet she had woven with, among other fibers, coffee filters. Who knew that coffee filters would become one of her muses throughout 2019 and into 2020? It made sense, then, that when I went to visit her a few weeks ago, I would bring more filters from my compost collection collaboration with Umpleby's Cafe in Hanover, NH. It was no surprise when I came to her studio a few days after arriving and found that she had already begun transforming those filters into fiber, testing the differences between the Umpleby's filters and others she receives from friends near and far. It was also no surprise that within a few days, she had given me a copy of her design for A Sweater Somewhat Slanted and had taken me to The Yarn Underground in Moscow, ID to find just the right wool. Among all the beautiful wool at the yarn store, I kept returning to this particular pinky, reddy, orangy shade with a hint of yellow mixed in. When I started knitting the first few rows, I realized that this was uncannily similar to the colors of two childhood sweaters - one made by my grandmother in 1972 and another by my mother in 1974. It's a bit odd because neither my mother nor my grandmother was a big knitter. It's also odd that with all my purges and clean-outs, I had saved these two sweaters and had actually just taken them out of storage a few days before going to Idaho. Clearly I was not in charge of my color choice! So for a week, we knit, together and apart. I discovered that my hands remembered how to create a sweater out of wool and that I could even read and knit at the same time. I had seen Sarah doing this and thought it was one of her superpowers, but it turns out it's not so hard when you're working with a simple yet elegant pattern like the ones she designs. I love that our relationship is no longer about who's thinner or prettier or more accomplished. Both in our 50's (for a few more months), we now explore our creative lives and the world in general together. We can finally admire our differences and celebrate all that we share. Sarah has instinctively allowed her superpowers to evolve over the past decades. It's taken me a bit longer to discover mine, and to let them flourish. I love that I embroidered my first stitch at the same time she sent me that coffee filter bracelet. It was like a subversive invitation to just go for it, whatever 'it' might be. And here we are, more than a year later, and I've embroidered an entire dress and she is working on her second knitted coffee filter bag. Thankfully, neither one of us knows where our respective superpowers will take us. We do know, however, that when the shit hits the fan and life throws us curve balls, we will harness our gifts & create beauty out of whatever materials are at hand. “Whatever our gift, we are called to give it and to dance for the renewal of the world. In return for the privilege of breath.” - Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass I'm now
home & am thrilled to snuggle with my dog and to hang out with my beautiful compost. That said, nothing can replace how I feel when I am with Sarah. I wonder what gifts we will unwittingly exchange next? You can be sure, though, that salvaged coffee filters will be part of the mix and that we will be making it all up as we go.
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Who knew that 20 people would show up for Hanover's inaugural Community Climate Conversation? With just a few hand-made notices around town and in a few social media outlets, we drew a small crowd. How cool is that? Indeed, what does the climate have to do with fashion and clothing? As it turns out, more than most of us know or understand. Apparel and footwear accounted for 8% of global greenhouse gas emissions in 2016 (more carbon than international flights and maritime shipping), is the second largest consumer of the world's water supply, and pollutes oceans with micro- plastics and rivers with toxic chemicals. Clothes are also something we wear every day and that can often make our day. I know that is the case for me. My black boots give a kick to my step and my long purple wool cardigan embraces me and gives me confidence. There is no reason to feel bad about dressing in garments that make us feel good. Our challenge is learning how to wear clothes that both feel great and don't harm the earth. I loved hearing Kim Souza, owner of Revolution (in White River Junction, VT) talk about how she curates her store. While some dresses or fun socks might sell big, she will not sell them if they are not made in the US or ethically produced. Joan Ecker, Founder of Fat Hat Clothing, shared valuable insights about the costs of clothing production and the dangers of 'greenwashing.' For me, laughter was the best part of the evening. Here were a bunch of people, some more interested in 'fashion' than others, who came together to begin a conversation about climate that actually started with what we were wearing. By sharing stories about our clothes in an informal setting we got to know each other in a different kind of way. Just as one wool sweater is not the same as another (was the wool sustainably harvested, were the sheep treated well, were the people who assembled the garment paid a living wage?), no two people have the same relationship to their wardrobes and how their clothes make them feel. Like so much in the climate conversation, there is always more than meets the eye. Can you tell, for example, that this ancient & beloved turtleneck was repaired last week? In my last blog post, Compost, Fiber and Fashion, I considered the power of re-imagining my clothes and, in the process, re-imagining myself. At their heart, these reflections come from my ongoing concern for and fascination with waste, not just of food, but of everything. My mother-in-law saved her hems, because she hated things going to waste. I repaired this twenty-four year old wool turtleneck sweater I bought at a street fair in Germany because I love it, and it seemed wasteful to find another one when I could mend this one. It seems to me that how we connect to our clothing may perhaps reflect how we think not just about ourselves, but also about what it means to be wasteful in general. I hope that our first Community Climate Conversation inspires those who attended to think more deeply about what they wear. More importantly, though, I hope our laughter invites others to join these gatherings, knowing that we find joy and have fun while paying attention to topics that we know about and love. Next Community Climate Conversation:
What's the Story of OUR Stuff? (bring an object you love) March 3, 2020 @ Still North Books, Hanover, NH 5:30 - 7:30 pm Facilitator: Marc Morgan (By day, the manager of Lebanon, NH's solid waste facility; By night, an advocate for deeper thinking about what we consume and why) I used to like to travel, until I discovered that it wore me out. More recently, though, I have been teaching myself how to sustain myself and find joy even when away from home. So when in Detroit to visit family last week, I explored on foot & in a car, with my camera and an open heart. Taking breaks for treats & coffee may be a cliche, but it's a thing. Delicious coffees and pies in interesting places run by cool people warms my body and my soul. Walking sustains energy, as does witnessing creative Little Free Libraries... and eclectic gardens on street corners inviting me to 'Be Patient.' Once again I found myself between generations, sitting with Aunt Al waiting for the dog walker to arrive and, later in the day, celebrating my godson's 14th birthday on the 14th with a celebrated 'Bumpy Cake.' Who knew? In the midst of it all, I was surrounded by strong women figuring out how to find joy in various messy places - from single-motherhood to compost. You got it. Compost. I just can't not seek it out. In this case, I explored Detroit Dirt, a thriving organization that processes food waste and animal manure between old warehouses and the highway. As I stood among the eight mounds of compost, trying to keep warm as it snowed and the wind blew, I felt the power of earth's capacity to renew itself. It takes energy to create life from waste, but that is just what the amazing Pashon Murray is doing. Three days before the Women's March 2020, I was surrounded by strong feminine energy, the kind of energy that changes the world. Scraps to soil. Soil to plants. Plants to life-giving energy so that we can breath. After Detroit Dirt, I visited the Anna Scripps Whitcomb Conservatory in Belle Isle Park. Anna's story is impressive, but while there, warm and protected from freezing breezes blowing off the Detroit River, I thought about the power of focus - - When we focus on one thing, often something right in front of us, there is clarity and purpose. Trying to see and do it all just gets confusing. It's funny to me how I notice the bird sculpture more when it is blurred in the background, than when I tried to get it and everything else in focus. So when not exploring and playing with extended family, I made time to read and sew, taking a media holiday of sorts. I hadn't planned it this way, but it turns out I read about another inspiring and game- changing woman, Rebecca Burgess and the Fibershed Project. The subtitle "Growing a Movement of Farmers, Fashion Activists, and Makers for a New Textile Economy" connects to, well, everything. It seems that
2020 is turning into a year for making connections among people, places and possessions, in particular, clothes. Compost remains the focal point, but clothes and their relationship to our identities may be a parallel story line...We'll just have to see. But I'm having fun being with people I love, meeting people who inspire, and feeling the power of the feminine spirit wherever I go. This week I have been thinking about fixing and mending. To me, fixing involves a tool kit used to solve a specific problem which, when repaired, provides a clear solution. Once fixed, we move on, glad that the problem has been resolved. This was what happened a few days ago when our furnace stopped working and two guys came to repair it. It took some time to diagnose the actual problem, but with their tool kit in hand, they solved the issue. Done. House warm again. We move on with our day. A day which, for me, involved mending - an act that feels different from fixing. Yes, there is a problem to solve - a lost button or holes in a pair of joggers - But the problem does not feel urgent, like a furnace not working in the middle of winter. The contents of yesterday's mending pile, for example, consisted of things with problems we had been living with for years...literally. This tie on this vintage duvet cover had been broken for longer than I can remember, as had the missing button on another duvet cover in the pile. Mending does not have to be perfect, either. Clearly, my stitches on the duvet are a bit messy and the button and thread color do not match what was there before on this night shirt. My goal was simple: Get the job done & move on. That's what I do in January. Finish projects, clean up, clear out, and, as if often the case, mend things, whether a missing button, a huge rip in my favorite gardening clothes, my son's joggers, or, perhaps, even the climate... But when I started to mend the huge rip on the back side of these overalls, I got distracted, as can happen sometimes, and decided to add some color, because, as it turns out, I had been consolidating our thread collection earlier in the week and happen to have found this fabulous green (ooh I love run- on sentences). And I thought it would be fun to add some curves to this otherwise set of straight lines. So suddenly my 'get- the job done' mending turned into something else entirely. I became entranced by the colors, shapes and textures that emerged. I know. These joggers are completely absent of color. But the shapes and textures were so cool and the feeling of the wool fabric I used to repair the holes so soft, I just had to share these images and this project with you. Because I realized, in the midst of it all, that mending is about tending to an ongoing relationship with something or someone, whether it's a piece of clothing, your dog or your son. Yes, there is a particular problem that emerges at the moment, but in the process of mending it, you change the actual structure of that which is being mended by adding thread, new fabric, new colors or new shapes. And, it turns out, you can change the structure of yourself as well. Or at least, that's what happens to me when I sit and sew. I hang out with my dog, who hangs out with me. We both breath more slowly. I have no idea what he thinks about, but I stay focused on each stitch, mindfully mending in that moment. But even
as I sew on buttons and patch holes in joggers, I'm thinking, always thinking, about all those big issues out there in the world for which we want a quick a fix, but which, in my heart, I know may not be able to be fixed with a single tool box at a single moment. The problems we face are just too big. But it helps me to address them when I adopt a mending state of mind. Knowing we will be in this for a while, I focus on relationships of all kinds and not worry about perfection by knowing what is good enough and by making sure I am open to altering my plans by adding color here and curves there. I wore these boots from November to May this year. Finally, a few weeks ago, they went into the storage box, from which my summer sandals and other cooler shoes emerged. Time for the seasonal assessment. If I haven't worn something for a year or if it doesn't work anymore, it goes in the spring give away pile. You might think, with 26 pairs of work boots, athletic shoes, dress shoes and casual shoes, I'd have enough. But I don't. My athletic shoes are worn out and I've never really found the 'just right' pair of casual sneakers...and with this trip to London, it became clear that I needed some upgrades. But... These days I'm focused on shoes and clothes with a story. If they haven't been well worn by another before me, I want to know that the materials used are ethically sourced, the stitches made with care, and the resources used, fair. So yesterday, there I was, in Kentish Town, London, at The Third Estate, on whose racks and shelves are clothes, shoes, bags and socks made with love. Each brand, it seems, has its own story to tell. So I had some fun. Light or dark Ethletic Fair Trade Vegan Sustainable Trainers? Funky Kalakar Breathable and light "BreLite Collection" shoes whose soles come from recycled tires and uppers are handspun cotton. They truly are the lightest shoes ever - - only 250 grams! A perfect travel companion. I ended up with dark, cute, comfy and filled with love. They make me feel like I'm flying. Maybe that's why The Third Estate has a bird on its window. But here's what I'm learning about this thing called "Slow Fashion." It's not about how fast something is made, it's about the stories embedded in each fiber and in the transaction itself. Angela, who helped me, wanted me to feel good. She knew about each shoe company and why they cared. And the coolest thing? Most shopping expeditions leave me exhausted, but after I left yesterday, I found myself in an unexpected area, ready to explore. Who knew that by going to The Third Estate, I would also experience this colorful and nuanced part of town? This canal seemed so quiet and peaceful, but then I followed the curve of and light on this living building... curious as I tend to be, about the relationship between the built environment and nature... ...and I found myself in an entirely unexpected place, where the buildings were alive in a different kind of way. So I guess shoes really are a thing for me. Comfortable feet matter but so does my actual footprint. I think it's cool when I can care for both. 3 cheers
for slow fashion, meandering explorations, and the simple joy of taking time to care. Happy June! Say 'Yes' to The MessOK. So I was really inspired by last week's Global Student Strikes for Climate. If the Pope, Paris & thousands of scientists aren't convincing enough, listen to the kids. They speak truth. 'I don't want |
Evelyn R. Swett
reframing the narrative in community and with myself, finding transformation and joy in the mess of it all Let's ReFrame!
is a somewhat regular 'viewsletter' that hopefully inspires joy & transformation. It will include links to recent blog posts & updates about my work. Oh, and I promise I won't share your information (that would be so uncool) and I don't actually do promotions, but that text is required. Archives
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