Slow Fashion October - Second-hand

I’ve always loved old clothes. As a teenager I used to regularly lift items from my parents’ closets - fitted blazers from my mom and beat up old work jeans from my dad. In my twenties, I could spend hours sifting through the racks of dusty attic vintage stores searching for that one great find. I still love the thrill of the find, and over the last couple of years I’ve begun to notice that many of my best-loved and most-worn pieces, are, in fact, second-hand - either thrifted or swapped or given to me by family and friends (the robe in the picture belonged to my grandmother and is probably my most cherished piece) - which makes me feel good for many reasons, not least because it’s one small way to extend the life of perfectly good items of clothing and keep them out of landfill for just a little while longer.

This week’s prompt for Slow Fashion October is how, so I thought I’d talk a little about how I incorporate second-hand into my wardrobe. As with buying new, one of the main issues for me is the sheer volume of things we consume and discard, and making an effort to reduce that consumption overall.

So my first rule is this: It has to fit into my closet and my life. I’ve bought many vintage items over the years that I wound up giving away because they just weren’t “me”, and as much as I loved looking at them, I never wore them. Now I’m much better at knowing what works for me and what doesn’t, and I look for things that suit my own style - classic, understated, neutral -  and that go with the pieces I already own. That doesn’t mean I can’t make space for something special, but it has to be wearable and fit into my existing wardrobe. I regularly reorganize my (very small) closet, which is a great way to take stock of existing items and identify holes.

Rule two: It has to fit. I know myself, and I know that if it doesn’t fit properly it will stay at the bottom of my closet waiting for the day I take it to a tailor - and that day will never come. If you’re someone who is great at altering or remaking clothes to fit you, that’s wonderful (and I do hope to get there one day when I have more free time), but if not, I don’t recommend buying something that doesn’t fit properly, no matter how cheap it is.

And finally, rule three: Quality. I look for good quality fabrics, particularly natural fibres like wool, that don’t show too many signs of wear. Replacing buttons or making small repairs on an otherwise great piece is no problem, but I avoid things that look especially worn out, faded or permanently stained - when I buy something I want it to last, regardless of whether or not it’s brand new.

Second-hand clothing is not without its downsides. For one thing, donating clothing often lulls us into a false sense of “doing good” with little thought as to where that clothing goes or what impact it might have beyond the donation centre. It is still, after all, a linear process. That said, buying second-hand prolongs that lifecycle, which is undoubtedly good thing, especially if it reduces our demand for new clothing and materials overall. And we all have to start somewhere.

Slow Fashion October 2017 - Handmade

It’s week two of Slow Fashion October, and this week’s prompt is what: What form slow fashion takes in our wardrobes, what we’re doing differently than before, and what we’re working towards. For me, these questions tie in perfectly with what I’d wanted to talk about this week anyway: handmade.

I’m a maker. Since childhood, I’ve found great joy in making something with my own two hands, and the excitement of taking an idea out of my head and into the real world never diminishes. Handmade has long been part of my life and my wardrobe, and for me, it’s what comes to mind first when I think of slow fashion - made by hand, slowly and intentionally and with care. The handmade items in my closet, especially the ones given to me by loved ones, have meaning and are worn and cherished far more and far longer than anything else I own. That said, I don’t sew my own clothes - my handmade pieces are mostly knits and, because I live in a country where it’s nearly always sweater weather, they get worn a lot, some repaired repeatedly.

But as I’ve begun to think more deeply about sustainability, I also can’t help but question some of my own assumptions and practices when it comes to making. I guess that’s the “what I’ve been doing differently” part - thinking more about materials, more about process, more about impact. The deeper you look, the more apparent it becomes that even the most well-intended choices can have far-reaching negative impacts and knock-on effects that are difficult, if not impossible, to fully comprehend. It’s almost paralyzing sometimes and lately, as my yarn stash and pile of samples continue to grow, I wonder whether I’m simply justifying a different kind of over-consumption. Sure, it’s handmade, but at the end of the day, it’s still just more stuff after all. And isn’t that the real problem?

As I try to build a handmade business, I find that I'm struggling to balance the goals of sustainability with the realities of commerce and living on an island where most things have to be shipped or flown in and out. What I’m working toward now is to try to be more conscious of the choices I can make and remember that small steps are better than no steps. For me that means using local, natural, sustainable yarns that aren’t overly processed, and sourcing other materials and supplies as responsibly as I can with the knowledge and resources I have today. I’m lucky to have access to amazing yarns that are grown and produced right here so that’s my starting point, but eventually I’d like to incorporate recycling in some way as well (I've been following Reunion Yarn on Instagram and am so inspired by what she’s doing). I’m also working to improve my design process (read: math), as well as other processes, so I can make fewer samples and reduce waste. Even more than slow, maybe what I'm really trying to work toward is just… less.

I understand that not everyone has the means or access to buy more sustainable materials or make their own clothes or even buy handmade - I know I can't (and don't) do all of that all of the time. For most of us it comes down to doing what you can, when you can. But one thing most of us participating in this conversation can do, regardless of income or socioeconomic status, is to consider not just what goes into our closets, but how much, and where and when we can, make it a little less.

Slow Fashion October 2017

I can’t believe it’s almost October! The summer, the year really, has flown by so fast. I’ve spent a lot of time this year thinking about sustainability - part of the reason I launched Rove Handmade was to explore how I could build something cohesive around making more thoughtful choices in my craft, and sharing that with others. So I’m excited to join in on Fringe Association’s Slow Fashion October this year.

The prompt posted on the Fringe Association blog today for the start of Slow Fashion October is who - who are we and who influenced us to think differently about our clothes. To answer, let me first make a brief introduction: I’m Maria and I’m a Canadian transplant to Iceland. I design crochet patterns mainly using Icelandic wool and I also work full-time for an apparel company. As for who influenced me, there are a few. First, Karen Templer and Fringe Association for sure - I have followed the Slow Fashion October series since 2015, and the stories and discussions around the topic of slow fashion have really helped the seeds of this idea take root in my mind. I've also been lucky to have these discussions with friends and coworkers (and working in apparel brings the topic into even sharper focus), one of whom co-owns a slow fashion knitwear label herself called Doppelganger Collection. But if I go back further, my mother and grandmother are probably bigger influences than I even realize: When I was young, my mom sewed clothes for herself and us kids (incidentally, that sewing machine is sitting in my parents’ basement, still in perfect working order after 40+ years), and my grandmother literally wore things out - repairing and repairing again rather than discarding.

To contribute to the discussion, there are a few topics I'd like to explore (and hope to keep up with weekly posts):

• Handmade - making by hand, wearing handmade, sustainability in craft

• Second-hand - why buy second-hand, where to look, what to look for

• New - overcoming consumer culture, sustainability, buying well on a budget

• Care - cleaning, mending, making things last

This is what I’m thinking about right now at least. I don’t have all the answers - in fact, I mostly have questions. There is so much to consider that it can feel like an overwhelming and impossible subject to tackle, but Slow Fashion October is a great opportunity to at least start to think about what sustainability and slow fashion mean to each of us, and how we can make positive changes in our own lives and wardrobes. Me, I have a long, long way to go, but I’m glad to have at least begun the journey. 

Introducing Rove Handmade

If you've visited here before, you might have noticed some changes.

Let me introduce you to Rove Handmade, a new brand that seeks to engage creativity with simple, minimalist crochet patterns designed in natural, sustainable fibres. You'll still find patterns and how-to's previously published under Maria Valles Handmade, now under a new name and a freshened-up online home.

Rove Handmade represents the next step for me in this handmade endeavor of mine, as I begin to think more carefully about designing, making, and sustainability. It is the culmination of several months of pondering, planning and hard work, and I'm looking forward to seeing where this next chapter leads.

In celebration, I am excited to share with you Rove Handmade Volume 1: Grannies, a collection of four easy crochet patterns for simple and stylish shrugs and cardigans. Inspired by crochet’s most famous motif, the granny square, these patterns also showcase beautiful Icelandic wool yarns in earthy undyed shades. The collection features two brand new patterns along with my best-selling Duo Two-Way Shrug and a new-and-improved pattern for my Granny Cocoon Shrug (previously published as free "recipe" here on the blog).

Each design employs inventive construction based on squares or hexagons, with no special shaping and minimal seaming, making these great projects for those crocheting their very first garment. Patterns include detailed instructions for five adult sizes, as well as schematics and notes on customizing your piece. You’ll also find tips on working with Icelandic wool and notes on yarn substitutions. 

Check out the ebook and individual patterns here!

Duo Two-Way Shrug

Last week I finally published my Duo Two-Way Shrug on Ravelry. This one was a long time and a few versions in the making, but I'm quite pleased with how it turned out and thrilled by the wonderful response it's been getting on both Instagram and Ravelry. Thank you to all who left kind words or have already purchased the pattern!

Built on the granny square, Duo uses basic stitches and construction to create an elegant, versatile piece that can be worn as a short-sleeved open cardigan or turned upside down and worn as a cropped, shawl-collared shrug. It has a slight cocoon shape at the back and is meant to be worn with a bit of positive ease.

I designed Duo for plötulopi, a light and airy single-ply unspun Icelandic wool yarn, but the pattern can be made a worsted weight yarn such as Léttlopi and notes are included for yarn substitutions. In Léttlopi, for example, the gauge is identical and the result is a little more "springy" though no less lovely - I've been wearing both versions and I'm honestly not sure which is my favourite (it's shown here in plötulopi) . Duo is available in five sizes.