On wearing imperfect creations

Today I wore a toddler-chic outfit featuring a pair of overalls I made out of a flannel sheet to a coffee shop. They are super comfortable and they look like pajamas. They are not perfect. Here's why I'm happy about it.

I make a lot of flawed things. I'd estimate that 95% of the things I make, at least the clothing, have obvious errors in them. The other 5% were probably made in a class where there was some sort of accountability for correcting those errors.

It's not always my fault. I really like working with thrifted or reclaimed materials, and sometimes that means working with or around flaws in the material.

Sometimes it is definitely my fault.

If you were to read my resume, you'd find multiple references to me being detail-oriented... and in a professional context, I am. But I balance that with a reckless imperfectionism in my creative pursuits.

What I loved about working with fibers originally was the flexibility-- especially in the large-scale installation work I was drawn to a few years ago. Materials can share tension, balance themselves, and take on an organic form over time.

That's much less true in the construction of most clothing, which has underlying engineering to it.

I'm still a beginner sewist, so my technique is not all there yet, and I lack the patience to unpick things unless I think they're threatening structural integrity. I'm much more interested in the form and exploration: My tops-stitching is awful. My seams are sloppy and often pinked (or even unfinished).

In the moment, I derive a lot of satisfaction from Doing the Thing, even if I lack the motivation for Doing It Right. I'll finish something and be happy about it, even if I can see a handful of issues that others might unpick. Even if I can acknowledge that unpicking and trying again would make me better.

But I do then struggle when it comes to celebrating the creation, or actually using and wearing the thing I made. If someone else praises my work, I become detail oriented again, and am quick to point out the flaws. I tend not to wear what I've made out of the house very often, even if I love wearing them inside.

Last summer, very early in my clothes-making and upcycling journey, I wore a skirt I'd made a few hours earlier out of a table cloth to my boyfriend's work event. It was before I'd ever even followed a sewing pattern and I totally winged the sloppy zipper insertion, so I was hyper-aware of its poor construction.

He wasn't, though. He was excited for me, and boasting about it to people I didn't know: "This is Katie, and she made this."

I want to work on fostering that in myself, and inverting the framework of how I think about my imperfect creations:

1. I'm Katie, and I made this.

2. It's not perfect and there are things I can improve for next time.

I will get better over time as I keep practicing, but, in parallel to that, I can use and celebrate the things I make.

I do really love my bright blue flannel overalls. I love that they were once a sheet. I love how comfortable they are and I love their giant pockets. I love that I can dress however I want in this stage of my life, and that I'm evolving my personal style as I learn to create for myself. So I'm going to wear my blue flannel overalls outside sometimes, even if they look like goofy pajamas, and even if the seams aren't straight.

And, as my boyfriend would point out, almost no one will notice the flaws anyway. :)