Many of our clothes hold memories. Not all of them will be happy ones, but perhaps we’re less likely to keep garments that remind us of challenging times. We all, however hold onto clothes that remind us of the good times. The clothes that we cherish take us back to a particular moment when we felt loved, radiant, joyful, fearless, blissful, bold or just…young. I still have my favourite jeans from my 20s (that I also happened to wear on a date with an actor, now a Hollywood celebrity), the mauve maternity top I wore when I gave birth to my first son and my wedding dress, an Oxfam-bought 1980s Laura Ashley number, reworked into a 50s style gown. I may not wear them again, but I couldn’t part with them.
When we repair an item of clothing it adds to the story. I can often remember where I was or who I was with when I mended something. I might even remember the specific moment in time. A further layer of the story behind each visible repair might be how the damage was sustained – a fall in the park, getting snagged on a rogue nail, a pesky moth attack - and where the materials came from that we used to repair it.
This yellow fine merino knit from Paul Costelloe (via a charity shop, of course) had a hole in a very awkward place. I could have made the repair very visible but when I was searching through my kit for some yarn, my eyes set upon some strands of gold which complemented the button. This thread had been given to me by my friend Emily who used to work with me in London at The Good Wardrobe. When Emily returned home to Australia, she left me her material stash, including this gold thread.
Here's how I did this darn:
I was so keen to start mending that I forgot to get a proper ‘before’ shot.
Because of where the hole was I decided to tack the sides together first with the white thread to get it all lined up and act as scaffolding as I darned (pic 1, top left)
Darning on the inside of the jumper, I created the warp by weaving horizontally through every other loop of the knit (pic 2, top right)
I left loops at each end of the warp to allow for movement, weaving the weft and stretch during wear. I always leave these loops when darning but it was particularly important for this thread because, unlike wool yarn, the gold strands have no give or stretch (pic 2, top right)
Once I’d finished the warp, I wove the weft vertically across, again leaving loops at the end of each row.
I wove the ends back into the darn to prevent them from coming loose
I’m very happy with the repair because it was tricky to do but I love how it has turned out. The darn would have been much easier if I’d used a fine wool yarn or even cotton embroidery floss – this gold floss was fiddly and the strands would not stay together! Even though it wasn’t really the best match for a fine merino and I made it harder for myself, I feel satisfied with the finished darn and each time I wear it, I think of Emily.
My mending kit for this repair:
Long, sharp needle
Gold thread
White thread
Darning mushroom (or anything firm and rounded like a ball, ladle or orange)
Snips / scissors
What’s coming up this week:
My mending pile: less of a mend, more a revival but I this morning I found a beautiful cashmere jumper in a charity shop which is in amazing condition apart from some pilling (bobbling) under the arms so I need to get that sorted.
What I’m washing: with the warmer weather, now is a good time to get my winter woolens laundered and hung out to dry.
Next week on The Mending Kit: it’s Fashion Revolution Week from 22nd - 27th April so I’m planning to share something related to that. Watch this space!
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