The Value is in Making

I am finally wearing the barn sweater which I cast on last October. I am not a fast knitter and sometimes I stall when I have to learn or figure out a new technique. I finally blocked, seamed and added buttons to it in September. Now that the days are cool and and an extra layer is welcome, I get to cover myself with a cozy, very imperfect hug that I know I will wear all the time. With something that has taken so much time and effort, it is tempting to keep it precious and protected but despite the slow work and many stitches, I want to use it, wear it, care for it, when needed, repair it.

I’m finding more time in the evenings to create, which feels so good. Last night while sewing, I listened to an episode of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Magic Lessons Podcast. Nearly every episode reveals something invaluable to me about the creative process and creative living and I kept pausing to jot down thoughts from episode 204. She talks with a poet about the value of participating in something ancient, like writing poetry as people have done for thousands of years. Clothing ourselves must be as ancient as humanity and I often think of the generations of women who spent hours weaving, stitching, gathering scraps, repurposing, remaking and patching. Crisscrossing the line between necessity and art form, they had an intimate connection to the seams that covered them in comfort, durability and beauty. It is easy to romanticize the hard work of making clothing before machinery and mass production and hard to forget the slavery and oppression that is also part of the history (and present) of garment production. I am lucky that I can choose to make clothes for myself and be part of every seam.

In the same episode, Liz Gilbert talks to the poet Mark Nepo and one of the things he says that has stayed with me is, “The vitality of life is staying a verb.” It doesn’t mean anything to be a writer or maker, the value is in writing and making. For me, the value in knitting or sewing things to wear is as much in the creative process as the final wearable garment. Fashion isn’t really something that I think about much but this month is Slow Fashion October and I have been, again, pondering why I revel in slow processes and in making everyday things. It is a practice and connection that I engage in wholeheartedly without any concern for perfection. I still have a lot to learn about knitting and this cozy gray cardigan is riddled with mistakes, but it fits well enough and looks good enough for me. We scrutinize ourselves and our creations far more closely and critically than any outside observer while we each need to find and make what brings us joy, perfect or not.