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Posts Tagged ‘fabric’

Photo: Durrie Bouscaren/The World.
Inspired by Istanbul’s “deadstock” shops, OhSevenDays uses small batches of fabric to create womenswear. Designer Megan Mummery is pictured above inside OhSevenDays in Turkey.

According to public radio show The World, the textile industry generates an estimated 92 million tons of waste every year — equivalent to a garbage truck full of clothing every second. But today’s article suggests a way to give textiles a second life. 

The whole time I read this, I was picturing Cinderella’s little friends among the birds and mice turning the ugly sisters’ cast-off fabrics and ribbons into a gown for the ball. You remember the Disney Cinderella? I’m talking about the pretty gown the sisters destroyed, causing the Fairy Godmother to step in.

Durrie Bouscaren reports at The World, “In the backstreets of Istanbul’s garment districts, there are stores selling bolts and bolts of leftover fabric. …

“These 100-meter rolls of fabric, known as ‘deadstock,’ are the discards of Turkey’s largest clothing manufacturers. And to a growing cohort of designers, they hold the key to reducing waste in the fashion industry.  

“ ‘There are big manufacturers in Turkey that do production runs of 30,000 to 50,000 unit pieces. So, the precision in that production is something else,’ said Australian Canadian designer Megan Mummery.

“At that scale, fabric rolls with small tears, stains or other imperfections are immediately removed from the machines. And if a brand miscalculates and orders too many rolls of a specific fabric, it will end up with a surplus.

“In most cases, deadstock fabric rolls are incinerated or dropped off at a landfill. …

“ ‘It’s minuscule for them — one roll is 100 meters,’ Mummery told The World. ‘But for us, it’s gold.’

“Inspired by Istanbul’s deadstock shops, which she explored after moving to the city with her husband in 2015, Mummery began using smaller batches of fabric to create womenswear designs. She named her brand OhSevenDays — a reference to her earliest collections of only seven pieces at a time, and a play on the Turkish word ‘seven,’ for ‘one who loves.’  

“ ‘It was really slow at the beginning,’ Mummery said. … ‘And I remember, an influencer once wore a top and posted it, and we got like 20 orders in a day, and it was the most exciting thing ever!’ 

“Today, Mummery’s designs are a tasteful blend of classic neutrals and airy patterns. Signature bralette tops are paired with matching high-waisted skirts and summery cotton shorts, perfectly at home in the historic Istanbul apartments and garden balconies often featured in her photo shoots. A line of maternity clothes offers options for both the office and casual wear. 

“As with many small-scale sustainable brands, OhSevenDays’ price point is higher than that of major retailers. A popular blue patchwork Darcy dress is priced at $240, and a dark denim jumpsuit sells for $150. A breathable, white cotton maternity blouse is $124. …

“Turkey is among the world’s largest exporters of clothing, and a significant amount of deadstock fabric is available in the country, according to [Sibel Ege, an Istanbul-based fashion industry expert who runs a textile consultancy called REN Sourcing]. But few brands are incorporating it into their practices, and even fewer customers are aware of what it is. 

“ ‘After COVID, the customers became more aware of the importance of (sustainability), and started to pressure the brands,’ Ege said. ‘But if the customer doesn’t know what it means, it doesn’t make a value at the sales.’ 

“Mummery and her team work together out of a shared studio that is no larger than 700 square feet. A line of dresses hangs above the machines, while tailors measure, steam and cut fabric — making the pieces from start to finish.  That makes the work harder, but more interesting, said tailor Türker Pehlivan. 

” ‘It’s challenging,’ Pehlivan said. ‘But in the end, something beautiful comes out — and we’re happy because we made something beautiful.’

“[Mummery] has found ways to use the small size of OhSevenDays to her advantage.  Custom sizing can be done according to a shopper’s measurements at no extra charge, if fabric is available — the website notes. …

“Deadstock-sourced pieces are also popular among clothing subscription services, where subscribers receive a selection of clothes every month that can be kept or returned. This reduces the risk of disappointing customers if a popular item runs out quickly. …

“ ‘We say, you know, there might be a little color discrepancy between the products — and most of the boutiques love that actually,’ Mummery said. ‘Because when there’s a dress on the railing and two slightly different colors, they have a story to tell, even in the store.’ “

More at The World, here.

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Photo collage: Isabella Segalovich/Hyperallergic, using images from Wikimedia Commons.
Detail of embroidery design by May Morris overlaid with portraits of May and her father William Morris.

Is this the year that the contributions of women get recognized in a big way? There seems to be something in the air.

In any case, today’s story draws attention to art that most of us have known about for years as the work of William Morris. Who knew that much of it was by his daughter May?

Isabella Segalovich wrote recently at Hyperallergic, “On a bright, sunny day in Victorian England, a little curly-haired May Morris gleefully handed a ball of wriggling worms to her father, William. The legendary textile and wallpaper designer smiled: He was both glad to have fresh bait for his favorite pastime of fishing and proud to see his daughter happily playing in the dirt, a freedom afforded to few girls of their social class. 

“There’s plenty to admire about artist William Morris, from his timeless ornamental wallpaper designs to his late-in-life turn to socialist politics, where he imperfectly but tirelessly fought for workers rights and against British imperialism. Less well known is that by all accounts, William was a pretty great dad, who encouraged his two daughters, Jenny and May, to grow into incredibly talented designers themselves. …

“The sisters soaked up their father’s aesthetic brilliance as they carefully observed him experiment with drawing, calligraphy, and textile dying; William even provided them with their own dying kits for messy, colorful play. May enrolled in what is today the Royal College of Art in 1878, where she studied embroidery. This was in no way preparing her for a life of a housewife with an under-appreciated textile skill. Rather, her father had been slowly training her to take over the reins at his historic company’s embroidery department at only 23 years old — a business decision typically reserved for the sons of the era, not its daughters.

“There, she began designing patterns for Morris & Co. that became mainstays of the company, some of which, unfortunately, were later misattributed to her father. She supervised a team of embroiderers as they produced all manner of textiles, from bedspreads to book covers to altar cloths. Soon, she was a leading artist of the progressive Arts and Crafts Movement.

“Before long, the two were close comrades in the small but mighty English socialist movement: May stood close on blustery London sidewalks as William became a kind of socialist street preacher. Together, they broke from the Social Democratic Federation in 1885 and took part in founding the Socialist League, where May took charge of the group’s library and became close friends with Karl Marx’s daughter, Eleanor, another one of the league’s founders. …

“Scholars have noted that William Morris was certainly a flawed crusader for women’s rights, once proclaiming that ‘it would be poor economy setting women to do men’s work’ in the same breath that he called for ‘absolute equality of condition between men and women.’ A powerful feminist, May greatly improved upon his political legacy by co-founding the Women’s Guild of Arts for the crafters who were not allowed into the Arts and Crafts Movement’s foundational Art Worker’s Guild. 

“It’s quite likely that no one knew William Morris better than May did. After his death, while caring for her older sister who struggled with epilepsy, she edited a whopping 24 volumes of her father’s writing, each with introductions so studied and lengthy that they were later published as their own two volume set. Biographer Fiona MacCarthy wrote that their relationship was ‘partly suffocating, in the intensity of its demands, but in another sense a kind of freedom … It released her latent talents and brought her into contact with ideas and activities far beyond the reach of most young women of her period and class.’ 

“Even so, May was undervalued in her time, and she knew it. ‘I’m a remarkable woman – always was,’ she wrote to playwright George Bernard Shaw in 1924. ‘Though none of you seemed to think so.’ “

Gorgeous pictures at Hyperallergic, here. No firewall. Subscriptions encouraged.

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Photo: African American Design Nexus.
The innovative architect and designer Felecia Davis can make buildings out of wool and fungus.

More on human ingenuity today. At the Washington Post, Elizabeth Evitts Dickinson writes about a woman who is pioneering all-fiber construction materials and “clothes that monitor your health.” And that’s just the beginning.

“Imagine you’re standing in an outdoor pavilion,” Dickinson suggests, “one that’s similar in design to a covered picnic area at a local park or an amphitheater, only instead of support columns made from concrete, wood or stone, this structure is propped up by what appear to be posts of crocheted wool. Above you, a vast expanse of undulating roof is made of the same knitted material. Fungus coats this wool frame, forming the walls and the ceiling, not unlike the way plaster might cover the wood framing of a wall.

“This is the premise of an experimental material known as MycoKnit. ‘We’re trying to make an all-fiber building,’ says designer Felecia Davis, an associate professor of architecture and a lead researcher in the Stuckeman Center for Design Computing at Pennsylvania State University. She is part of an interdisciplinary team testing how knitted materials, such as wool yarn, might function as the framing for a building while a mixture of straw and mycelium fungus embeds itself onto this knitted fabric to create the rest. Mycelium is composed of individual fibers known as hyphae, which, in nature, create vast and intricate networks through soil, producing things like mushrooms. The amazing thing, Davis tells me, is that something as basic as fiber can become both the structure (the wool yarn) and the infill (the fungus).

“Davis and her partners are harnessing mycelium’s fast-growing power by regulating environmental conditions in the lab to encourage the fungus’s expansion on their knitted edifice. With the assistance of a computer algorithm made by one of Davis’s PhD students, the team can virtually assemble and examine the structure stitch-by-stitch in order to predict its shape, before building it and letting the fungus propagate overtop. …

“Davis is now working with her students to create a 12-by-12-by-12-foot MycoKnit prototype that can be fabricated and grown in one place, and then taken on-site to build, like an Ikea kit. She imagines a future where biofabricated materials replace less-sustainable building supplies, many of which wind up in landfills.

“Davis is a triple threat designer: trained as both an architect and an engineer, and with a penchant for technology. In her Penn State lab and through her firm, Felecia Davis Studio, she mixes time-honored craft techniques and humble materials with the high-tech — so that clothing might, for instance, alert the wearer to excess carbon monoxide in the air or signal when an infant stops breathing in their crib. Davis works with textiles, she says, because ‘you can address it at the nano- and micro-scale with tiny particles that you can spin to make a thread or yarn, or you can look at it from the massive scale. A building. A city.’ …

“Davis has always loved experimenting with objects and material. The oldest of three siblings, her earliest collaborator was her sister Audrey (now a neonatologist). As kids in the ’60s and ’70s, they explored the foothills of Altadena, Calif., near their home, gathering fresh bay laurel leaves and other natural materials for projects. With their friends, they fashioned dolls out of flour-based papier-mâché, carving apples for the heads. …

“Davis’s mother volunteered at the Pasadena Art Museum and introduced her children to abstract art and modernism; she was also a docent at the Gamble House in Pasadena, one of the country’s most well-preserved examples of Arts and Crafts design. Davis credits that house, in part, for her early desire to pursue architecture. ‘We would do our homework in the attic while she gave her tours,’ Davis says. ‘That house was mind-blowing.’

“On a recent October day, the SoftLab at Penn State is ‘messy,’ Davis says. … Fabric samples have been stretched and pinned to a corkboard, sharing space next to thin electrical conduits and sketches of networking design. There are clear boxes filled with copper-coated yarn and fabrics twisted with stainless steel that are capable of conducting electricity. Davis is refreshingly agnostic about her sourcing, using a combination of existing craft techniques and materials — from wool to human hair — in combination with the latest in software and hardware, such as the LilyPad Arduino, a microcontroller designed to work with e-textiles.

“A pair of black leggings stretch across the bottom half of a dress form. From a distance, they resemble something a rock star might wear, bedazzled and tricked out with lines of metallic thread, but on closer inspection these accents are electrical threads and processors. The leggings are the result of a partnership with Penn State engineer Conrad Tucker, who wanted to create a way of alerting people with Parkinson’s disease to subtle changes in their walking gait, which can foreshadow the onset of more debilitating symptoms. …

“The leggings were originally an information-gathering experiment, but ‘we’ve circled back on this project now that we have a yarn that is washable,’ she says. ‘We think we can make a simpler version of our leggings.’ Davis sees the potential for other ‘smart’ clothing like

a hospital shirt that frees patients from the tether of wires affixed to machines, allowing them to move freely or, ideally, go home sooner because their clothes, connected to the internet, would be able to communicate critical data to doctors.

“While Davis was earning her master’s in architecture at Princeton University, she ‘noticed how little people talk about the emotional experience of people in [a] space. … You’re in basic response with your environment all the time … You’re meshing with it, which is why it’s so important to think about human emotion in design.’ In this view, the aesthetics of what we design is more than an accessory, but a fundamental need in support of human emotional health. …

“As humans we tend to imbue the materials in our lives with emotional resonance — a child’s security blanket or a favorite sweater — and Davis has wondered whether we could also imbue the materials themselves with emotional feedback capacities. In 2012, she partnered with two other designers to create and install a project called the Textile Mirror at Microsoft Research Lab in Redmond, Calif. In the back of a fabric panel, Nitinol wires, made of a shape-changing nickel-titanium alloy, were activated after a person entered information about their state of mind into a mobile phone. The panel would adjust, shrinking and crumpling to reflect pain or sadness, for instance, and then release. As the textile ‘relaxed,’ it helped those in an agitated state to relax as well. Textiles capable of reflecting emotion have the potential to alert architects, building owners and inhabitants to the effect that specific design and material choices have. We can begin to create emotionally reactive dwellings and objects, as Davis calls them. …

“As someone who believes in the scientific method of showing data and results, Davis recognizes that working with emotions is tricky. It’s nearly impossible to scientifically pin down, precisely, what people are feeling at any given time. ‘This is kind of at the edge of what computation can actually tell you,’ she says. ‘We can’t read people’s minds, and yet we function as a species because we can intuitively read emotions.’ “

More at the Post, here.

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Shows how far we have come from ancestors who let nothing go to waste that making clothes out of leftover fabric is a novelty. But it’s a good idea nevertheless.

Katherine Martinko at TreeHugger writes that Beru Kids is a children’s clothing company in downtown Los Angeles that makes use of textiles that would otherwise be landfilled.

“The garment workers are mostly female,” she says, “and are paid higher than minimum wage (not per-garment, as is usual in the fashion industry).

“What’s really interesting about Beru is that it repurposes deadstock fabrics to make its clothes. ‘Deadstock’ refers to surplus fabric that has not been used by other factories. In LA, it is sent to a warehouse, where Beru’s founder Sofia Melograno goes on a regular basis to purchase whatever textiles catch her eye. Beru has also begun recently incorporating organic, traceable cotton into its garments.”

Traceability means the cotton can be traced back to its original source so it’s possible to assess whether all steps in the supply chain are environmentally and ethically sound.

Martinko adds that because the fashion industry is a huge polluter, finding a use for fabric that would otherwise get thrown away is good for the planet.

More here.

Photo: Beru Kids (via Facebook)
Beru-Kids-Molly-Bee-dress

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I had to share a delightful report from the radio show Studio 360 in which Khrista Rypl looks at the cultural aspects of African textiles.

She writes, “African textiles are distinctive for their vibrant colors, bold patterns, and batik dyes that give the fabric a unique crackled texture. But I had no idea that some of the trendiest of these prints are actually designed and produced in the Netherlands by a company called Vlisco.

“Inge Oosterhoff wrote a wonderful deep dive into the history behind the Vlisco textile house, and explained how their designs have remained hugely popular in Africa since the late 1800s. But Vlisco doesn’t just make fabric; they’re known for their printed designs. … Some patterns are designed with different countries in mind, while others are distributed widely around the continent. As the patterns catch on among shopkeepers and consumers, many of them get colorful names like ‘Love Bomb,’ ‘Tree of Obama,’ and ‘Mirror in the Sun.’ …

“Many patterns are sold widely in Africa, and different countries and cultures adopt different meanings and associations. [A swallow] print is a perfect example. The fabric was used for airline uniforms in Togo, so there the pattern is commonly referred to as ‘Air Afrique.’ The pattern also symbolizes asking for a favor, like the hand of a woman in marriage. In Ghana, the swallow refers to the transience of wealth, and the pattern is referred to as ‘Rich Today, Poor Tomorrow.’ It has a similar connotation in Benin, where it’s referred to as ‘L’argent vole,’ where it could either be interpreted as ‘Money Flies’ or ‘Stealing Money.’ ”

More designs and more of Studio 360 report, “Textiles Tell a Cultural History,” here.

Photos: Vlisco

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Although I have known Julie Weinstein mostly as a graphic designer, I learned from many conversations over the years that she has experience in a variety of fields. Lately she has been concentrating on quilting.

I went to see the delightful pieces below at the Emerson Community Arts Center’s Earth Month exhibit, “Life on the Edge.” Completely charming. The panels were inspired by seeing birdwatchers and wondering if the birds watch the watchers. In one panel a woman is birdwatching with binoculars. In another, a bird lifts binoculars to study the woman.

The Umbrella website says, “This year’s theme, ‘Life on the Edge,’ invites us to consider those experiences and places where people and habitats intersect. Also called ecotones, liminal or transitional zones, these points of intersection can spawn collaboration, conflict, beauty, chaos, change, and more.” The show is up until May 5. More details here.

Interesting to see the word “liminal” used for the intersection of people and habitats. At Asakiyume’s blog, her literary readers use liminal and the word “interstitial” to refer to places between worlds and ways of being. Like the platforms where Harry Potter catches a train that ordinary people can’t see.

Come to think of it, that is not so different from the intersection of the natural world and the developed one the art show describes. It’s a place where you might see three large wild turkeys sashaying down the middle of a downtown street, as my husband and I did on a recent Sunday morning.

Quilts: Julie Weinstein

julie-weinstein-quilts-sightings-at-Umbrella

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