In the case of textiles, a beautiful example is handmade quilts made out of locally-grown raw materials and hand-printed textiles that hold immense cultural value that are passed down through generations. Unfortunately, it can also look like petroleum-based fabrics processed with toxic chemicals being made into fast fashion clothing by underpaid workers in unsafe conditions.

While we can support campaigns that address these issues, the reality is that change is frustratingly slow, and there are already far more garments in existence than are reasonably needed to clothe humanity. According to Earth.org, of the 100 billion garments produced each year globally, 92 million tonnes end up in landfills.

One of my mantras as a social entrepreneur is Do What You Can With What You’ve Got Where You Are, and this expression of everyware is no different. There are warehouses full of second-hand clothing, far more than can ever be re-sold. Much of this unsold waste is then shipped overseas for non-transparent “recycling” or supposed “donation”, which can undermine local economies. What if we could create sustainable solutions right here?

I practice what I think of as a ‘whole animal’ approach to upcycling, similar to that of chefs who seek to use all parts of their raw ingredients as they create their dishes. This methodology has resulted in, for example, the design for floor mats, table runners, laptop cases and placemats made out of thicker parts like hems, belt loops and inseams. The straps of all of the bags that I make are former waistbands. What else could this be? Is a common refrain in my mind as I work.

The act of piecing and sewing together the deconstructed elements of the jeans is intuitive and even meditative for me. As someone who formerly took common sewing concepts like cutting with the grain of the fabric  as an article of faith, it’s liberating for me to basically chuck all of that out the window, and instead work intuitively to seek the most efficient way to use the fabric.

I use the larger deconstructed pieces of fabric to cut skirts, jackets and bags, then take the residual pieces of fabric (called offcuts in garment production-speak, that are typically discarded) and re-sew them into larger pieces that I cut yet again into shoulder bags. This results in some interesting stained glass effects that remind me of Mondrian abstract paintings.

When the scraps become too small to re-sew, I make them into chains that I braid and make into baskets and rugs. 

Some other cool aspects of this new expression of everyware include working more consciously with the stories and energy of the garments’ past lives. One of the first projects that I created was to make a skirt out of my recently-deceased father’s old neckties, as one example. I love working with garments that have belonged to friends and family members for this reason. I also think of my process as honouring the people who made the original fabric and garments. It's important to me to be conscious as I work that when it comes to textile goods, they have all been touched by human hands, and not just made by machines. 

Making the skirt was a healing way for me to connect with my feelings for him, as well as to process my grief over his loss. Watch our newsletter for a workshop dedicated to using loved ones’ old clothing to make simple ‘Memory’ items.

Last but not least, while I’m planning to sell the items that I make, I want to do as much as possible of that in person. Each item is one of a kind, and I love the idea of people finding “their” special item at a craft show, pop-up or trunk show.

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