I had a great idea last week.
I have this lovely, flat-topped steamer trunk that I inherited from my grandparents. I’ve been using it to store my fabric upcycling, next to the regular upcycling in the sunroom. My idea ran like this:
We could really use a small table or chest in the library. Like maybe another steamer trunk.
OMG I love steamer trunks! Let’s see if there’s a good one on Craigslist…hmm…not really.
Damn. I really want a flat-topped steamer trunk.
Like the one I have in the sunroom. The one I have in the sunroom doing basically nothing, full of stuff that should be sorted, condensed, processed, and after all that would probably fit in the cedar chest in the studio anyway.
I could empty it out, put the fabric upcycling I want to keep into the cedar chest, scrap the unusable crap, and spend a couple of days making jersey yarn. Then I could put the chest under the window in the library and use it as a worktable for my computer during the day, and it could store baby toys and a throw…
And that’s how my studio came to look like something off of “Hoarders”. Piles of fabric, old clothes, t-shirts, stacked up in the middle of the room making it difficult if not impossible to access and use the space. Bits of lace, trim, zippers, upholstery foam, etc. spilling out into the hallway.
So first I pulled out all the synthetic knits good for nothing more than making jersey yarn. And I spent a few days using a seam ripper and an assortment of scissors to strip off the useful stuff (buttons, lace trim, elastic) and cut the remainder into strips. I rolled the strips up, and stuck them in with my yarn stash. Someday they’ll make awesome storage containers, like this one I made last fall to hold dishwashing tools:
Then I went through what remained, and sorted out all of the woolens (sweaters, vests, etc.) and packed them up in old rice bags with cedar blocks. Someday they will be made into diaper covers like this one, modeled by an impossibly tiny baby Ithilien:
Or longies, like these, modeled the same day by an impossibly chubby baby Númenor:
The notions and embellishments I put away in the correct places. Zippers waiting for the next time I have to make a new hoodie for the smalls, lace to be re-used on hems or as insertions, elastic ready to be stuffed into casings, buttons making a satisfying “plink” sound as I add them to the button jar.
I found several flat bed sheets left over from before my family discovered the Wonders of the Duvet, which is lucky because the fitted sheets for my bed have all decided to quit in the last six weeks and we need more. I found some flannel receiving blankets from Númenor’s NICU days that will see the light again as baby wipes or a lovey. I found some church linens my mother gave me when her church couldn’t use them anymore and easily assigned them– a toddler’s poncho, handkerchiefs for me, more linen baby shirts. Some antique cocktail napkins and a tablecloth with one of my ancestor’s cutwork and embroidery skills demonstrated tolerably well on them I set aside to make a play tent this summer.
Then there were the oddments– a ripped and stained leather motorcycle jacket Robert wore when we were dating that will be cut up to make soft shoes for babies learning to walk, bits of upholstery foam for which I have no particular plan but that stuff is way too expensive to throw away, socks and gloves and mittens to be made into doll clothes and soft toys or unraveled for yarn, a few synthetic knit pieces that weren’t suitable for anything but ripping up for stuffing, and the interesting pieces of boning, interfacing, facings, and other elements I’ve cannibalized from various storebought goods.
All that effort sorting and assigning and putting away, and the studio floor is still positively awash, partially because we have about 30 (THIRTY?!?!?!!!) t-shirts waiting for the muse. T-shirts that have too much sentimental value to make into yarn. T-shirts in colors, designs, or themes I’m not interested in seeing my children wear. T-shirts that vastly outnumber my lifetime’s conceivable use of rags and bags.
T-shirts, in short, just begging to become one of those ghastly t-shirt quilts.
I’ll make one.
And I’ll probably even like it.
But I’ll do it because I want to, not because the internet tells me to.
P.S.– The chest works beautifully in that spot in the library, just like I thought it would.