LAST WORDF
or a generation raised on the concept of two-wears-and-you’re-
done fast fashion, it may be difficult to comprehend how long
their forebears held onto things. Where do you think all those
vintage Gucci/Coogi sweaters you’re now paying hundreds of dollars
for online came from? Well, the longevity of these items is partly due
to years of ad hoc repairs, so many years in fact, that these items
often crossed the threshold from merely old into the fabled land of
vintage. All held together by the mercurial art of needle and thread.
But here’s the thing. Long before we had tuned into mindfulness,
the simple, meditative rhythm of sewing provided its own escape.
Inevitably and eventually, we sought to do it for personal pleasure
and aesthetic enhancement. Necessity was transmuted to hobby
amid balls of yarn and through the finest of needles.
For many people, the gateway drug to this addiction was cross-
stitch. Using fairly thick strands of wool or cotton, and guided by
a faint pattern printed on a taut piece of minutely perforated fabric,
the push/pull rhythm was not merely relaxing, you also got a reward
at the end in the form of a picture. The beginners’ kits were ideal for
little hands and made for an ideal project between generations. Take
that Tik-Tok (whatever on earth that happens to be).
All it took was a few hours, a decent lamp and some slight hand
cramp to produce an adorable depiction of a slightly cartoonish
playful spaniel, a cherubic angel or even the crest of a beloved
football club. Ponies were a perennial favourite for teens, and
most every holiday home you ever rented had either a landscape
or a seascape made from dust-laden intertwined yarn.
Cross-stitch also lent itself to the visual portrayal of treasured
sayings. Biblical verses that struck a spiritual chord were common
among the houses of the reverent (or reverend for that matter), as
was the ubiquitous “bless this home”. If your olds were a little bit
zany and not afraid of showing it, they might even opt for a “bless
this mess”. Then there was Aunty Dawn’s slightly uncomfortable for
youngsters “home is where the bra comes off” or spritzer justifying
“wine not”. For an entire generation, it was our “live laugh love”.
Today, of course, in the era of automation, the kids are all about
two things: the instant gratification of internet purchases delivered
overnight and transposing this supposedly staid and traditional
format with some rather raunchy or ironic sayings. This writer’shome, for example, is adorned with a cross-stitched “that’s what
she said”. Ask that person in your office who’s always banging
on about The Office why that’s so funny.
The next-level players were drawn to the mesmeric attention to
detail required by needlepoint and embroidery. Again, this was in
the pre-computerised-automation era, where a palette of different
hued superfine threads was used to render the petals of flowers with
exquisite nuance. There was shadowing, there was bordering, there
was shading. There was all sorts of up-close squinting so the end of
the filament could successfully be passed through the seemingly
diminishing eye of the needle. Speaking of eyes, the older that one
got, the tougher it became to complete this task without multiple
attempts, and who among us hasn’t resorted to sucking on one end
to moisten the thread into a more compliant tip?
The needles themselves were also uber sharp, often resulting in
more pricks than the last season of most reality TV dating shows.
The frustration that arose from this combination of dodgy vision,
piercing pain and too many attempts at loading the needle often
gave rise to the first time a child ever saw their nanna or mum use
a swear word. And didn’t that make them that little bit more human.In this DIY mix was the magic of patchwork. Akin to a fabric
mosaic, it, too, most likely started as a mend that transformed into
something more striking. This was upcycling years before the term
got a hashtag or was most likely even invented. With some fabric
scraps left over from various curtain, tablecloth or clothing projects,
you could create a blanket that would somehow become an heirloom
quicker than the family silverware. In their slightly mismatched and
pushing-the-bounds-of-complementary-colours way, they spoke of
home with a voice both nostalgic and comforting. How many of us
snuck them away when we left home for university or our first share
house? The common thread among all these things was, of course,
common thread itself, and the joy its use could so often bring.CROSS STITCH
UNSUNG ICONS:
218 HOMEBEAUTIFUL.COM.AU I MAY 2020
“LONG BEFORE WE ALL TUNED INTO
THE mindfulness,
simpleMEDITATIVE RHYTHM OF SEWING
PROVIDED ITS OWN
escape”
COMEDIAN DAVID SMIEDT TAKES AN IRREVERENT, BUT APPRECIATIVE,
LOOK AT THE CLASSIC THINGS THAT DEFINE YOU-BEAUT AUSSIE LIFE
Illustration MATT COSGROVE