Stitching together the movements in mending
Are you ready for a short twentieth-century history lesson? Guest blogger Sandra Stafford traces the public movements of Make Do and Mend, bringing it right up to date with the loud and proud visible stitchers of today.
I was, as a much younger person, always embarrassed that my mother mended things. My thinking was very much along the lines that you mended because you didn’t have the money to buy new. And I suspect the reason mending was so neat and invisible (my mother was expert at this) was to hide the scars of rips and tears, split seams, missing buttons and falling hems. Socks were beautifully darned. Jumpers were lovingly patched at the elbows. Shirt collars were carefully removed, turned and sewn back on again to disguise the patch of wear from continual rubbing of the back of the neck. And there was no hint of this work. It was completely invisible. In fact, we might even conclude that invisible mending was just one of the invisibles of women’s and men’s work. Men mend too.
In many of my blogs for Trash Chic, I’ve referred back to my childhood and adolescence. It was the place I learned the skills I still use today. But it was often a place of discomfort and othering. I longed for the shop-bought cardigan that my peers had rather than a hand-knitted version; I was desperate for a dress that hadn’t been sewn out of remnants. I’m so happy we are at a place now where concern about clothing – extending its lifespan, buying preloved, donating – is a movement. And I’m delighted that we can literally wear this as a badge of honour – particularly making and mending. Visible mending. Showing a timeline of an item. Revering its history. Protecting it for the future. I’m no longer embarrassed to darn a grey jacket with bright yellow yarn on one elbow and green on the other. Turning the tables somewhat, this out-and-proud – almost rogue – approach to mending is something that would have deeply embarrassed my mother; to her, it would have displayed a lack of skill. And had she still been with us, I would certainly have pointed her in the direction of Celia Pym’s work (I was lucky enough to spend time on a series of workshops with her last year) has turned visible mending into an artform. Her work is known globally in exhibitions and museums. And her skill – she really is exceptional in her work – would undoubtedly have impressed the staunchest of old-school menders.
Celia and others are the ‘now’ end of a very long timeline of menders – a necessity for many people across many centuries. But what also fascinates me is the public engagement in the UK during the Second World War in particular.
1941: The UK government campaign begins
From the very start of WW2, and with no real surprises, there were shortages of just about everything. In fact, rationing all but prevented the purchase of new clothing items until four years after the war ended. So there was a real necessity to extend the life of the items already in families’ wardrobes. The UK government, along with the Board of Trade, stepped in with a number of campaigns to help people through rationing, including Make Do and Mend. The idea, and very much in line with thinking today, is that everyone made do with what they already had. (OK, so it’s potentially seen as a lifestyle choice these days, but it is nonetheless motivated by global concern for the planet and for those who work in unsafe conditions as cheap labour.) People – including my grandparents and even my parents – were advised to:
- alter their clothing if needs be
- definitely mend items that needed fixing
- learn skills such as dressmaking and knitting (utilising fabrics and yarns they already had), and
- familiarise themselves with fabrics (how to maximise on their unique characteristics) and garment care (how to apply a gentle touch to help everything last longer).
My grandparents took this very seriously, as did my mother and aunts. But, credit where credit’s due, my dad also learned to knit and indeed turned out some passable vests and dishcloths, I’m told.
1942: Voluntary organisations step in
The Made Do and Mend scheme went ‘live’ in a collaborative launch between the Board of Trade and a range of voluntary groups including the:
- Women’s Group on Public Welfare (founded in the late 1930s as a women’s organisation with philanthropic intent)
- Women’s Institute (with the first official WI meeting taking place on Anglesey in 1915; the WI continues successfully throughout the UK)
- National Council of Social Services (an early version of today’s National Council for Voluntary Organisations), and
- Women’s Voluntary Services, who ran clothing exchanges – particularly useful for children’s items – and gave sewing lessons.
The combined aim of all of these was educational, to:
- reduce consumption by civilians
- teach people new practical skills
- emphasise thrift and frugality.
With so many things simply not available and others costing beyond most people’s meagre budgets, the scheme was also seen as a valuable contribution to the war effort. The additional benefit for many was a social sense of shared experience.
1943: Short films and pamphlets underpin the MDaM initiative
Search online, and you will come across images of many posters produced around this time. In fact, the Board of Trade’s initiatives, posters and pamphlets are well referenced on The National Archives website, including details of the places in which some of them still exist in hard copy. Additionally, replica copies of some printed materials are available online.
A good example is the Make Do and Mend pamphlet (Imperial War Museum), in both hard copy and PDF form. And, I must admit, I was surprised to discover that among its treasures are advice on unpicking and knitting/crocheting again. This is something I’ve tried recently and blogged about for Trash Chic Towers. You’ll also find a section on decorative patches – a huge trend currently – and hints on tracking down those rogue moths.
Staying with the IWM, grab yourself a cuppa and watch this short information film which was shown in cinemas and other public spaces at the time.
The legacy of MDaM
As I often mention, my mother and her family, along with my father’s family, embraced what they learned not only during WW2, but before and after. In fact, rationing didn’t end until 1954, and given I’m a 50s baby, albeit post-rationing, it’s little wonder that MDaM is part of my DNA – despite those early years of embarassment. It’s also little wonder that my mother never quite relinquished the acts of MDaM, nor her notorious frugality. She was quite genius at the latter! The decades pass quickly, though, and for a range of other reasons (perhaps environmental, perhaps economic) we are once again embracing MDaM. YouTube is a place of wonder to discover new skills. In fact, just today I was looking at half a dozen different videos on how to make a detachable collar – and perhaps that will form the basis of another blog on another day. But for now, I have a sock to darn and an old linen curtain to turn into a zero-waste kimono. Onwards …
Sandra Stafford is an author, editor and long-time Trash Chic customer. To view TC’s range of preloved/vintage/retro clothing, return to the Shop and take a look at all the fabulous items on offer. And do watch out for details of mending, patching and embellishing events led by the wonderful Jane.
