Dear Material Readers,
Recalling from my memory, to answer why fabric is the material I feel married to since when I can remember my own existence, I can point out two crucial and cherishing remembrances which gave me this long-term textile gratitude. I’d love to share them with you now.
Tom & Jerry
Circa 1979, my younger brother would make sure that, I sat next to him and watch this short-animated film by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer every day around 5 pm.
I remember I wasn’t really interested in that comedy – or tv in general – except for that one recurrent action scene that got me and my brother nailed to the small wooden chair’s arms to survive the speed coming out of the screen when Tom, the cat, chasing Jerry the mouse, put the whole home interior in danger of getting damaged by its sharp claws. That all abruptly ended when the lady of the house called for an immediate end to their playful naughtiness. This charming woman, representing the domestic order for the cat and the mouse, was also seen through my eyes as protecting furniture from these two wild ones – more importantly – being the guardian angel for the fabrics at risk of the cat’s claws. It was all filmed at floor level, where one could only see carpets, the curtain seam, the sofa’s lower ruffle and her cozy pantoffles while trying to separate the two fast ones. Always, after circling her skirt a few times around the screen, she would disappear again. The interior was declared risk-free, and once calm returned, I could finally leave the chair sheltered by her love for animals and the care for home textiles.
The Seamstress, my Grandma and my Mom
A piece of woven cloth bought at the local fabric store – mostly in charcoal – would be the reason to pay a visit to the seamstress next to my grandma’s home. The delegation included my granny, my mom, my brother and me. We all took the appointment very seriously. Once inside her atelier, my brother and I, in good behavior would stand on top of two chairs next to each other for precise measurements. We listened carefully while the three women were deliberating on the styles to be made and the trimmings to be used. I truly enjoyed that comforting bath and the connection to fabrics created within that tiny room. And I will never forget how unwasteful and economical the seamstress used that cloth. Each visit was a new sustainable situation; first, pants made-to-measure were ordered for me, and with the rest of the fabric, a pair of short pants would be made for my brother. Circularity was essential in the discussion they were having. When the pants wouldn’t fit me anymore, my brother would take them over and his shorts would transfer to other kids in the family or circle of friends. On average, we would spend at least an hour hearing how three experienced women edited the future of our wardrobe.
These two childhood experiences have unquestionably shaped me. I want to thank the four true female influencers – do not forget the sweet lady from the cartoon – for the appreciation and education around textiles given to me in the early years of my life.
There’s no such thing as an app on a mobile phone for tracking the time our skin is in contact with fabrics. But our memory collects those experiences that go beyond any data about our personal Textile Time. Our skin not only reacts to certain fabrics but has trained us to connect with them and build lifelong relationships with them from the moment we are born.
Loops,
Marcelo.
