Go Green
One of our daughters has an interest in fashion and recently participated in her first fashion show at her university. The theme was "Green Chic", and all the designs featured sustainable materials and waste-reducing techniques. Participants constructed their creations using organic fabrics and dyes, recycled thrift store finds, or creative pattern making that minimized scrap. The idea was a noble one for an industry often accused of being frivolous.
Our daughter jumped in with both feet, promising to design and construct five pieces for the show. She sketched out her visions to begin the project, then roamed thrift stores and begged cast-offs from family and friends. This all may sound mundane, but there was a pretty tall hurdle in her way. Our daughter had never sewn a thing in her life. I don't think she was entirely blind to the scope of her undertaking. Like most of us, she sometimes approaches new things with trepidation, but when the idea is hers, she has admirable streaks of bravery.
So, she borrowed her sister's sewing machine and asked me to teach her to sew. I'm not a seamstress. I've had no formal training, just a few basics from my Mother and Grandmother, and a lot of fumbling through projects on my own. My approach to sewing has been like my approach to most skills. I'll learn all I can from an expert if one's available, but common sense and a lack of fear can stand in for formal training in many situations. I wouldn't try this philosophy with brain surgery or bomb disposal, but for sewing, it's served me well enough. The mistakes I've made have taught as much as the successes.
Feeling somewhat unqualified, I offered what knowledge I could, taught her some basics, dispensed advice and hovered while she struggled. Then, she would go back to school and work on her own for the bulk of the project. There were plenty of times when an experienced hand would have made a task quicker or smoother. It wasn't easy to stand back and watch the disappointment and frustration at every little set-back, but the role of teacher requires it. Those weekend sessions were about problem solving and learning to teach yourself.
As we progressed, I was reminded of a sewing project I undertook with my Grandmother's help when I was about ten or twelve years old. She had mentored me in much the same way, alternating between guidance and letting go.
I had decided to make my Mother an oven mitt, built of scraps of old clothing quilted together, not because it was "green" but because that's just the way we did things in my family. Few things were ever thrown away. Everything was saved and re-purposed if there was even a spark of possibility left in it. My Grandmother's house was a treasure trove of craft materials, rag bags, button boxes and other discarded items waiting to be given new life. Now our daughter's project seemed to be drawing from that lineage, in some way, the heir to my Grandmother's thrifty expertise.
In the end, she had created every one of the promised designs. Though not expert-perfect, they were impressive and miles from where she had been just months before...and they were hers. She had sweated and cursed and amended her plans in order to bring them to life. She had taught herself to sew, to correct her mistakes, and to follow through on a project she believes in. Certainly, she accepted advice, materials, and the loan of the sewing machine from others, but what she did with them belonged to her. What's more, the exercise helped her to craft herself anew.
So, on reflection, we are all going green in a way. We fashion and refashion ourselves from the cloth we're given and the scraps and pieces we pick up along the way, but the design is all our own. The product may be a little familiar, but it is also truly unique.
Our daughter jumped in with both feet, promising to design and construct five pieces for the show. She sketched out her visions to begin the project, then roamed thrift stores and begged cast-offs from family and friends. This all may sound mundane, but there was a pretty tall hurdle in her way. Our daughter had never sewn a thing in her life. I don't think she was entirely blind to the scope of her undertaking. Like most of us, she sometimes approaches new things with trepidation, but when the idea is hers, she has admirable streaks of bravery.
So, she borrowed her sister's sewing machine and asked me to teach her to sew. I'm not a seamstress. I've had no formal training, just a few basics from my Mother and Grandmother, and a lot of fumbling through projects on my own. My approach to sewing has been like my approach to most skills. I'll learn all I can from an expert if one's available, but common sense and a lack of fear can stand in for formal training in many situations. I wouldn't try this philosophy with brain surgery or bomb disposal, but for sewing, it's served me well enough. The mistakes I've made have taught as much as the successes.
Feeling somewhat unqualified, I offered what knowledge I could, taught her some basics, dispensed advice and hovered while she struggled. Then, she would go back to school and work on her own for the bulk of the project. There were plenty of times when an experienced hand would have made a task quicker or smoother. It wasn't easy to stand back and watch the disappointment and frustration at every little set-back, but the role of teacher requires it. Those weekend sessions were about problem solving and learning to teach yourself.
As we progressed, I was reminded of a sewing project I undertook with my Grandmother's help when I was about ten or twelve years old. She had mentored me in much the same way, alternating between guidance and letting go.
I had decided to make my Mother an oven mitt, built of scraps of old clothing quilted together, not because it was "green" but because that's just the way we did things in my family. Few things were ever thrown away. Everything was saved and re-purposed if there was even a spark of possibility left in it. My Grandmother's house was a treasure trove of craft materials, rag bags, button boxes and other discarded items waiting to be given new life. Now our daughter's project seemed to be drawing from that lineage, in some way, the heir to my Grandmother's thrifty expertise.
In the end, she had created every one of the promised designs. Though not expert-perfect, they were impressive and miles from where she had been just months before...and they were hers. She had sweated and cursed and amended her plans in order to bring them to life. She had taught herself to sew, to correct her mistakes, and to follow through on a project she believes in. Certainly, she accepted advice, materials, and the loan of the sewing machine from others, but what she did with them belonged to her. What's more, the exercise helped her to craft herself anew.
So, on reflection, we are all going green in a way. We fashion and refashion ourselves from the cloth we're given and the scraps and pieces we pick up along the way, but the design is all our own. The product may be a little familiar, but it is also truly unique.
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