For much of my life, making things was a solitary pursuit of mine. A lot of my time was spent alone in a sewing room, or sitting on the couch with an audiobook and a knitting project after everyone else had gone to bed. The internet was a lifesaver in those days - I browsed Ravelry and BurdaStyle for hours, looking for information and inspiration. The sewing blogosphere was at it’s largest then, and I followed all the big ones: Lladybird, Gertie’s Blog for Better Sewing (back when it was hosted on blogspot!), Colette, Julia Bobbin, Crab & Bee, Closet Case Files (which became Closet Core Patterns, for those who don’t know this deep lore), and lots more I can’t think of right now, plus a bunch of knitting sites.
I think back fondly on this era of the crafting Internet, mostly pre-Instagram, when people would make a project, take 15 pictures and write 2500 words about it. The level of detail was always incredible. I had so many favorite blogs bookmarked, and I would eagerly go to their sites every morning hoping a new post was up. There was a real sense of community then - no one was selling anything, just offering their knowledge and sharing ideas.
Being able to connect with other makers on the Internet was - and is - amazing, but I would also read about knitting groups, stitch & bitch nights, sewing circles, and other crafting groups and feel incredibly lonely and jealous. For years and years, I longed for sewing friends, or knitting friends, just someone to ‘talk shop’ to in real life over a cup of coffee.
Not only did I lack in-person crafting friends, but as the online world transitioned into social media, the community feeling I used to find on the Internet dissipated, replaced by a nonstop stream of ads. That was part of the reason I started this newsletter; I wanted to find makers again, to be able to talk about my craft without feeling like I was just a potential source of revenue. And it has been so wonderful to find like-minded people here, to chat about what it means to make things by hand in a world of mass-production and over-consumption.
Recently, there has been another shift in my crafting world, and it is one I’m unbelievably grateful for. I started making an effort to meet other makers - joining my local knitting guild, attending fiber artist meet-ups in my city, and reaching out to acquaintances that I knew had some kind of creative hobby. This past weekend, a friend and I walked to a local cafe to spend a few hours knitting together. Another friend of mine expressed interest in learning to sew, and I recently had a chance to teach her - as it turns out, my sewing room perfectly accommodates multiple sewists.
I come from a fairly religious background, and an important concept within the churches my family attended was the idea of fellowship. More than friendship, or even a feeling of community, true fellowship is about ‘sharing a common purpose or interest’ (according to the Collins English Dictionary), and I think it is something that we all look for. People form book clubs, craft groups, and online discussion forums to find fellowship, to share thoughts with others who are just as invested in their given subject. This is what I’ve been chasing for a long time, and I feel incredibly lucky to have finally found it.
Having the support of a community is important for all of us, but it can be especially significant for the creatively-inclined. It’s no surprise that artists tend to gravitate towards each other’s company - think of so-called ‘artist colonies’ like Ditchling, the Roycroft, or even more informal groups like Bloomsbury. I find that my maker friends are such a wellspring of inspiration and motivation - just talking through fabric and pattern options conjures up all kinds of ideas, and I’ve been finishing projects at a rapid pace lately. I feel more excited than ever to sit down at my sewing machine and try out new fabrics and techniques.
I’m also reminded of more traditional, crafts-based events like sewing circles or quilting bees - community affairs in which groups of people came together, often to work on the same project. Typically, these were also occasions to pass on generational knowledge, and I’m sure many a person sewed their first stitches at a quilting bee. This is a rich part of the history of textile-based crafts and it’s something I’ve always found really appealing - the idea that knowledge is often intrinsically linked to relationships.
The Internet, of course, is a great way to bring people together - but I do find there’s something missing. Maybe it’s the spontaneity and unpredictability of a conversation held in a noisy cafe, over the click-clack of knitting needles, or the clarity of the idea that might come to you as you touch the nubbly linen fabric that a friend is sewing a garment from. It’s something special, that’s for sure.
That’s it from me this week - I hope you all had a lovely weekend and, if you were in the path of totality, a chance to see the solar eclipse! Here in Buffalo, it was mostly cloudy, but there was a magical three-second break in the clouds during totality and I found the whole experience unexpectedly moving. Talk to you soon!
Best,
I love The Quilting Bee. Some women stitching, some other other women taking a break by cooking, (presumably they all take turns with the needles), the table laid out, the children and pets more or less contained and occuptied, the few men coming to check out the scene. Are they interested in the progress on dinner? The charms and skills of possible marriage partners? Such a domestic scene of security and good cheer!
I definitely miss the good old days of craft blogs… and google reader!! But yes, it’s a totally different thing to craft with others - I always feel so inspired after meeting with my knitting group. It’s fun to see what everyone is working on and just have a good chat.