lavender + fabric scraps

This summer, my two lavender plants are doing really well. So well in fact that I can make sachets and give them to people as gifts. This summer I also finally bought a sewing machine. A consignment clothing lover’s best friend. Now Clara can hem her skirts in seconds instead of painstakingly sewing them by hand. And with her skirt scraps I can make potpourri sachets.

But of course, all this has a downside. As I sit at the sewing machine, I think of sweat shops, and women who are poorly paid all over the world, and women who learned to sew in school, but nothing else, which is why I never learned to sew because my generation was going to free itself from that icon of domesticity.

As I make my little lavender sachets, I think of artisanal work, and how difficult it is to make a profit when you are making something one step at a time, and that it’s no wonder we went through the industrial revolution. Crank out those sachets thousands at a time, then maybe there will be a small profit down the road.
Meanwhile, as I assemble my sachets in my makeshift workshop, I think about the pride that went into handmade things. I am a little proud, and a very nice scent is diffusing all over the house.

another great blog

Also thanks to Modern Millie's web site I found Sally Vintage, in which Sally (I guess that's her real name) goes thrifting and sells via Etsy, but also gathers old photos from her followers, goes to rock concerts, and has a nice narrative and beautiful photos along the way.
She takes us to enormous flea markets, uncovering yet another site of excess stuff that people have accumulated over the years and want to get rid of. I used to think of flea markets as fun places to go, where you would unearth the most unusual candle holder or tea cup or lampshade or or or...But now, after seeing Sally's photos of racks and racks of old clothing, they begin to look like a very low rent department store, reminding us that our excessive consumption has a history.

But then I happened upon Ronald Ingelhart's concept of "post-materialism," in which, already in the 1970s, he theorized that "Western societies [...] were undergoing transformation of individual values, switching from materialist values, emphasizing economic and physical security, to a new set of post-materialist values, which instead emphasized autonomy and self expression." (Thank you Wikipedia). I am not so sure that we have "transitioned" away from materialism to something less materialistic. However, perhaps this whole vintage/thrifting/consigning "revolution" might indeed signal a transition for SOME of us to a more autonomous, less imitative, less cookie cutter style of presenting ourselves to the world.

blog to blog

While looking through the "Modern Millie" web site I found this incredibly cool blog by the "sartorialist" in which he posts tons of photos of people on the streets of various cities around the world AND old photos submitted by people who follow his blog.

Newburyport MA

(Hannah Anderson blouse for Clara)

        
(three skirts from Pandora's Box)

Just got back from a weekend of cycling, sun, surf and... thrifting. Newburyport has at least three consignment shops. A young guy in a gift shop said that you can only buy used clothing in this town. He was exaggerating of course, but you do have a feeling that, if a summer destination town like Newburyport suddenly has more second hand shops than first hand shops, society has finally figured out that we need to start getting rid of all our excess stuff.
Which reminds me of a movie I just saw that includes second hand clothing in its plot line. In "Larry Crowne" the main character played by Tom Hanks befriends a twenty something who drops out of college to follow her fashion passion. She opens a consignment shop. Hollywood's attempt at making second hand cool, not chic or trendy, just mildly cool. Tom Hanks undergoes a transformation as he drops his Kmartish middle of the road "normy" clothing for a wardrobe more befitting of a young dude who rides around on a scooter and supposedly can only afford second hand clothing. A closer look at the ending credits might reveal otherwise (wardrobe by ...Armani etc?). But the idea that secondhand has made it into mainstream Hollywood cinema is an indicator that we are either going through a serious recession or, à la Newburyport, it's time to sell off the excess stuff. A sort of post-modern touch in a silly comedy about unemployed white middle aged males. We are going through a serious recession in an era unsurpassed in its frenetic consumption of stuff.
        I had time to go to two consignment shops.  The first one, "Modern Millie," had more of a trendy, nostalgic feel that made it more of a "vintage" shop, heavy on the pastel palette bordering on preppy. Muffy needs an outfit to party on Scott's yacht, and she wants to be chic yet ironic. How about a pink dress with little green whales that her mother might have worn back in her Wellesley days? Somewhat unique was its small selection of old 1940s and 50s fashion magazines. The handbag selection wasn't bad either and prices were very reasonable.
Across the street was the equivalent of Beacon's Closet but on a smaller scale. Inside "Pandora's Box," clothes were arranged by type and color. And everything was priced in the twelve dollar range. As I concentrated on the skirt selection, the country music station ("The North Shore's best country...") played annoyingly in the background. I guess country music in thrift stores go together, to evoke a sort of working class, life is hard atmosphere.
          Needless to say, it was extremely satisfying to try on five skirts, all of which fit and looked perfectly fine, without wondering whether I was being reasonable. At twelve dollars a pop, simply trying on clothes should be a guilt free experience. Actually buying three out of five (and a sleeveless blouse for Clara) knowing that I would walk out of there with four items of clothing for less than fifty dollars is thrilling. I get high on that simple, unreckless pleasure.
        Pandoras's Box: interesting name considering that when you open it, it's not exactly trouble that you find. It's very reasonably priced clothing.