I’ve been thinking about this whole concept of resolutions. I’ve always thought that I shouldn’t need to wait for the New Year to begin to decide to change something, or use a date as justification. That being said, I am intrigued by this idea of trying something for a long, but definite, period of time. This year I hadn’t given it much thought. I never have and I didn’t see why this one should be any different… until I saw a post on
Needled. For the past year, the woman who writes on Needled has made a pledge not to purchase any new clothing. Mending, darning, sewing new pieces, re-vamping and all manner of things are perfectly wonderful ways to make clothing that don’t involve buy new (usually cheaply made and shortly worn) clothing.
I’ve always felt slightly guilty when I sneak into Target or Forever 21 and buy something. In my mind it’s like buying disposable clothes, something you wear maybe ten times before it self destructs. The price is just right for something like that and it works out to be something like $1 a wear until it dies, twisted into an unrecognizable mess when it comes out of the washer on that fateful day. My problem has been trying to justify buy fabric to make my own clothes. It is expensive. Sometimes it works out to be $15 for a simple cotton skirt in materials and then six or seven hours of swearing and ripping seams out, not to mention those damn zippers! Now, though, I think I’ve changed my mind since I started working at Twelve Mile Market.
Twelve Mile Market is an organic food store in Gresham. David Shonk takes veggies and other good things from his farm and then sells them in the little store, wedged in next to a karate studio, Mexican restaurant and locksmith. The food in his store doesn’t last forever. Good food isn’t supposed to last very long, that’s how you know it’s good. The same should be said for clothing. Something good shouldn’t be cheap and expendable. A good piece of clothing is something that’s made to last and to be loved.
So, the point of all of this is that for the next year I’m going to make a pledge not to buy any new clothing. I’d like to make things and to really appreciate what goes into making a shirt or a pair of socks. I have the time and a little bit of expendable income that I would much rather spend teaching myself things and keeping myself busy than on a speedy trip to Target to buy something I won’t even remember in two months. As the woman on Needled was saying, this isn’t an exercise in denial. I’m not going to feel guilty if I do buy something, but I will feel infinitely satisfied if I chose to challenge myself and make the same thing myself… albeit with more cursing and sore fingers.
I hope you’re all having a good year and that you’re all doing something that makes you happy. After all, what good is doing something if you’re not happy/satisfied/content?
The main room. Jessie has a futon just to the left outside of the picture that she sleeps on when she's home. The infamous dirt room is behind that door and Monty's bachelor pad is right in front of the sliding door so that he can guard the house against the neighborhood cats.
The doorway into Hannahland, you must be this tall to enter. Epic, no?
The land of make-believe. This is where all that crafty magic happens, more or less (really that magic happens all over the house... a needle in the arm of this chair, a wad of yarn on this table, some fabric in the kitchen. It's all good.) Oh, and you can see the little shelf Dad built for all of my books along the ceiling there. I think that's my favorite thing in the whole room!
The place for to be sleeping and snuggling (Monty is banned).
More crafty action happening this corner too. There are little things tucked into every feasible cranny and bits of thread clinging to everything else. Anyway, that's the tour of the downstairs.
These sewed bunny people have been springing up everywhere in the afternoons these days. They're a little over a foot tall and really easy/fun to make. I think my favorite part has been sorting through my button tin. 
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