Such Lives Our Clothes Have Lived

This well-worn Harris tweed jacket came into my hands. Frayed around the edges, even the sturdy handwoven fabric from the Hebrides had succumbed to the forces of time and use. It was stained, the lining torn and buttonholes coming undone, but at some point the elbows were patched with grey-blue suede. Somebody cared.

I began the process of mending. Using scraps of vintage wool and silk fabric that my friend Jean-Pierre sent me from Japan, and two spools of 1960's beige cotton thread, I applied patches over the stains and around the threadbare edges.

The history of Robert Hall is quite interesting. Apparently the company made clothes that fit well (free alterations!) and were made to last a lifetime. And most of us are familiar with Harris tweed - it was (and still is) actually woven by crofters in their homes. I once bought a length of Harris tweed that came with a tag with the name of the weaver on it.

I wanted to replace the plastic buttons, which didn't match. Here is where my huge stash of buttons got to earn their keep! I found three lovely mother-of-pearl buttons that were the right size for the front, and six smaller mother-of-pearl buttons in a similar tone for the cuffs.

I removed the machine sewn elbow patches and replaced them with sashiko sewn silk. Maybe not as durable as the old suede ones, but with a subtle sheen and character.

I still have to restitch the buttonholes and mend the inside lining. My friend K. called dibs on it as soon as she saw it, tried it on, and it fit her small frame perfectly. She is a poet and counsellor - this jacket will go on to to accompany a life of wisdom, creativity, and care.