The follow-up post to my short essay on winter woolens.
Are there articles of clothing in your life that held significance for you from a young age, or made a lasting, meaningful impression in a moment? For me, the clothes and items that I remember well were all of hand make, and riveted my attention in a way that everyday modern things did not. That those clothes contained something of importance about them, a richness and substance, was apparent to me upon first impression as a child.
From the corners of my childhood memory….a handmade wool sweater belonging to my aunt - the kind that smart, cultured people might wear, a telltale link to the kind of person I wanted to become. The tag said it was from Norway, the wool fibers soft but overwhelmingly warm. I was so grateful to receive the sweater after my aunt’s sudden death. It carries the double magic of the handmade natural fiber essence, and its tie to a beloved family member.
Another memory… my grandfather’s dark green wool vest. He was a serious, stoic man with a penchant for American Western style. When he died, the vest was passed down to my husband. It hangs in his closet, a physical reminder of my grandfathers now-absent presence.
My grandmother’s heavy cotton denim duster coat - one of my favorite pieces of clothing, as it goes with everything and is actually well-made, being from the 90s. That coat holds an existence of its own. Were it made of cheap denim or polyester, the coat just wouldn’t contain the same force of presence.
I think one of the most enchanting qualities of well-made natural fiber clothing is that due to its more durable nature, the sweater/vest/coat tends to stick around longer and become part of your life. The inherited clothes I’ve detailed above wouldn’t have been able to be passed down if not for their sturdy construction. Like a strong, hand-built home that holds generations of lives, there’s no reason a well-made garment can’t be passed down to subsequent wearers.
Aside from their ability to last generations, there’s just something about natural fibers that makes them special, which indicates their innate connection to living things. Wool from the sheep, linen from the flax, mulberry silk - compared with polyester from…. a factory? No connection to life, there. No luscious energetic threads imbued with the frequency and essence of the living creature from which it came. Choosing to wear natural fibers is to reclaim a connection with an aspect of your humanity - the age-old pastoral lifestyle of tending animals, propagating plants, and using them to craft wearable creations.
Rudolf Steiner emphasized the importance of natural fiber clothing in his philosophy for Waldorf schools. Steiner definitely had some (what I would consider) strange beliefs as part of his theosophy movement, which I disregard as a Catholic, but I wholeheartedly see the wisdom in the encouragement towards woolens and natural colors in a persons clothing. Natural colors and textures complement the individual personhood, without distracting or creating cynical puzzlement over reductionist logos on a t-shirt. They direct our attention towards the person’s face and spirit, which are arguably the most characteristic embodiments of our selves. Our appearance is an expression of our individuality as beings made in the image of God, and not to be disregarded as unimportant or an irrelevant, disconnected afterthought.
Compare this image of a girl dressed in beautiful, handmade clothing to a child you might see nowadays wearing neon yellow leggings, crocs, and a bedazzled polyester tshirt (yes, I’m drawing from a real-life example here):
I think we can inherently recognize the way the subject’s clothing complements and even enriches her natural beauty and self as a young girl. The first thing I notice when looking at the above painting is the girl’s face, then her shawl, then her cap and apron. I do not think this was unintentional on the part of the artist. Her clothes innately convey the touch of human hands, by the fact of their hand-made, dyed, sewn, embroidered existence. I have come to believe that clothing is most meaningful when it is made by humans, for humans, towards the most true embodiment of our nature.
Clothing that compliments women in their femaleness and men in their maleness.
Clothes that uplift and compliment our nature as humans made in the image of God.
Articles made by human hands of God’s materials, provided for us to cover our bodies in a dignified and beautiful manner.
Meaningful clothing will ultimately draw us closer to our nature as humans created by God by its mode of construction and wearing. I view opportunities for linking human meaning with our garments in several ways. First, by choosing clothes that are handmade, we avoid the mistreatment of other human beings through underpaid factory work and abusive working conditions endemic in the modern fast fashion culture. Second; by making clothes ourselves, we occupy our time with a meaningful work rather than an unfruitful hobby. Third, by repairing existing articles of clothing, we participate in frugality and stewardship over our belongings, preserving them for continued use and not the landfill.
I find it a relief and a joy to properly order my desire for beauty in dress towards its correct end: the glory of God Himself and his design for humanity. Perhaps it is not the most important of priorities for many of us, since there are so many more concerns in our daily lives besides wearing meaningful clothes. But I think it is a goal we should strive towards nonetheless, as it fulfills a small part of our lives which may otherwise contain that bit of cognitive dissonance coming from the unfulfilling, empty consumerism of modern life. Whether you make your own clothes, repair existing well-made garments, or buy handmade natural-fiber clothing, the pursuit of meaning in clothing finds us more fulfilled and grounded.
As usual, I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Do you sew your own clothes? Prioritize buying higher quality, handmade items? Do you disagree? Let’s continue the conversation together.
Beautiful post. I could not agree more. When my first daughter was born my mom gave me a little hand-knit red sweater that had been mine, made by a dear friend. Both my girls wore it and someday their children will. It struck such a deep chord for me the first time I saw my daughter in it. Now I have many cherished items like that, my favorite aunt who passed away was an amazing knitter. Knowing her loving and skilled hands made these things brings not just warmth to our bodies but to our souls. It led me down a path to seeking more quality, natural materials, and intentional clothing items. As I did so I recalled the prayer shawls knitted by church ladies and given to those in hard times or illness (I received one after a life threatening emergency surgery). These shawls we unquestioningly accept as imbedded with meaning, actual prayers said for healing. So it just clicked! So many things we can do from love, prayer, intention, and make them mean so much more. Thanks for your words!
I always disliked folding laundry, until I had my first baby. His onesies were so cute, and I loved him so much, that affection seeped from my heart to my hands every time I folded them. I suddenly loved folding laundry. Seven years and two more kids later, I have so many good memories bound up in all my kids' clothing that I still love it, although it's a little bittersweet to remember times past when the big ones fit into the little clothes.
We are considering switching schools. The new school would have a uniform. This is a major factor in the "cons" column as we consider this school. I wore uniforms for years and hated them. I'm no fashionista, I just like comfortable, practical clothes in flattering colors. Uniforms were the opposite of all of those. I felt depersonalized, disembodied, and disrespected. This of course aggravated my natural teenage sulkiness and probably led to worse academic and social outcomes for me.
As I consider dressing my kids in uncomfortable, impractical, unflattering, depersonalizing uniforms, I get a chill down my spine. We have no happy family memories in those clothes. They aren't meaningful. It feels like they are either reaching into our family life to deny us meaningful clothing, if the kids wear them through the evening, or denying the kids a healing sense of continuity between their home and school selves, if they change when they get home. Still, it is just one factor in the "cons" column. I would feel petty making it a dealbreaker. I hope my kids won't mind uniforms as much as I did and do.