I’ve been mending a pair of knitted gloves.
They had really become a couple of large holes with some thread holding them together…well not quite, but close.
It’s been an adventure that I have really enjoyed.
I told them that it was going to be messy, so I had permission for a bit of trial and error.
They are a earthy red colour and I have mended them with a golden mustard wool. This makes the mend incredibly obvious, which has had an unexpected consequence.
As I have mended them, I have also brought to life all of the stress points in the gloves. The areas that get the most wear and tear were obviously the ones that had the biggest holes and now have the largest mends.
I feel like I have had a chance to get to know these gloves and the person who wears them. I’ve come to understand something about them. I’ve been holding the space where their hands rest and now I know them a little better.
And the fact that this object, that was deeply loved but not far off the rubbish bin, now has another life, perhaps even years more of life, is a kind of satisfying that I can’t really explain.
I feel like humans are meant to give our clothing a decent life. That when we don’t, we are stealing something from ourselves that we can’t replace.
It’s really quite moving to use my humble mending skills in this way.
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