I have a drawer full of tea towels. Some of them are new, some of them are special, and some of them have seen better days.
Two tatty tea towels
Always on the look-out for new mending projects, I’m going to find an answer to the question “How to repair a pair of tatty tea towels?” I’m not going to find out on my own though; and it won’t be the only question we will seek to answer. My friend and fellow mender and maker Bridget Harvey and I first met at the MendRS Symposium in 2012, so when I was thinking about repairing together, I knew she’d be the perfect partner for a Repair Dialogue.
The Repair Dialogue involves two menders, two towels, two questions and two end results. Once the repairs have been completed, one towel is to remain functional so it’s still fit for purpose. The other towel can become non-functional.
This towel is to remain fit for purpose
At the moment, Bridget has the “functional tea towel” and I have the “non-functional tea towel.” Each of us will do a repair, post the towel to the other, and then pick up the repair where the other left off. I’m looking forward to see what we’ll come up with, and how our repairs will influence each other.
And this towel can become non-functional
Thinking about when a tea towel is still fit for purpose is going to be an interesting question to answer. It’d be easy to just add some patches and be done with it, but that would be an easy solution, and far from thought-provoking. Both Bridget and I are excited about using these towels as a vehicle to explore the boundaries and finding out when a repair crosses over from functional to non-functional. I often discuss this at my darning master classes, as a functional repair requires certain materials and techniques. For instance, darning a hole in a fine gauge machine-knitted sock with a bulky yarn would be uncomfortable to wear. On the other hand, repairing moth holes in a jumper with that same bulky yarn might lead to spectacular results.
A challenge lying ahead in the functional repair category
Everyday textiles can have a very interesting story to tell, and whenever I use these towels, my thoughts go back to when I first lived on my own:
After I graduated in 1997, I moved to Amsterdam for my first job as a radiotherapy radiographer, and I found a teeny tiny house to live in. I furnished it with things gathered from many different sources. An old sofa that once belonged to my parents, now long gone. A small dining table from a colleague in exchange for home-made biscuits (yes, it’s the very table that still features as a backdrop in many of my pictures now.) A table lamp bought by my godmother on a shopping trip together. The tea towels however, I bought myself. They come from a Dutch department store called the HEMA*; they make everything under their own label, and most of their stuff is very reasonably priced and has a plain and modern look to it. I picked this particular pattern as I liked the reference to traditional textiles from the Brabant province. In the UK you might refer to this pattern as ‘gingham’ but in Dutch we call it ‘Brabants bont.’
The non-functional towel has a different challenge
The towels have served me well and I’m a bit sad to see that they are now so well-used that they have started to disintegrate. One of the towels has a very old grey/brown mark on it from straining home-made chicken stock as I didn’t have the more usual cheesecloth used for this purpose. The debris left in the towel after straining stained it and subsequently refused to shift in the wash. That’s okay with me. Although stained, the towel is clean and still dries dishes very well. As both Bridget and I have a lot of other things on I don’t expect them to be fully repaired any time soon, but I I’m really looking forward to the outcome of our Repair Dialogue and sharing the progress and findings on my blog. I hope you will, too!
*) Hema opened a store in London this year: http://www.hemashop.com/gb/.