It’s easy to overlook a thread. From an inherently aesthetic standpoint, that is their purpose. Thread is supposed to be hidden, buried away like a treasure chest in the sand. Their color matches the overall hue, woven together not to come undone or ever draw attention to themselves. Yet thread is critically essential, bing all the disparate elements of a garment together into a unified piece.
Thread is fickle in its application. At least it is for me. It’s too small for my near comedically large hands to handle with any confidence. Attempting to thread it through my sewing machine in December was a process that often akin to trying to find my glasses in the middle of the night. It was trial and — more often than not — error. Once I was able to thread the needle properly, other issues arose; I couldn’t get the needle to catch correctly, I didn’t remember to go back over my stitch to close it off in the right way, or I just totally sewed over the fabric in a way I hadn’t intended. There was just a myriad of different ways in which I botched the foundation of my sewing.
And that base was utterly dependent upon this tiny string to keep it all together.
I didn’t immediately gravitate towards a big project when quarantine started, but as it became increasingly clear we would be stuck at home for the remainder of 2020, I decided I wanted to tackle a sewing project. I felt I was good enough with a needle and thread to sew patches on jackets, so making a whole jacket felt like a logical next step. I ordered the DIY chore coat offered by Reese Cooper when it launched in mid-April on a lark. Once it arrived, I immediately realized I was in way over my head. A simple needle and thread wouldn’t work to piece together an entire jacket.
I needed a sewing machine, way more space, and a lot of patience. I got one (the sewing machine) and still needed the other two. The project sat, tucked away in my closet indefinitely. My girlfriend and I moved to Capitol Hill in September into a rental home that offered much more space, and so the project came back into focus. Even then, I didn’t have the proper time to get around to devoting my attention to it until late November.
My Mom loved to sew. She doesn’t do as much of it now that she’s older, but she made so many wonderful things for my sisters and me when we were kids. I remember the detailed Rainbow Fish costume she made one year as part of a book project or something for my sister. She made a whole Harry Potter cloak for me in middle school. Her talent was something to behold. Look at this Thomas the Tank Engine costume she made; the tops velcro together to hold it together and there’s even a three-dimensionality to Thomas’ face.
I think if you’ve read this newsletter, you have a pretty good sense of how close I was with my Dad. My Mom and I aren’t entirely on that same level. But I realize in some ways a lot of my creativity I owe to her. How she could seemingly make something that didn’t exist a reality with her sewing was — and still is — deeply impressive. Working to piece those disparate elements into something cohesive doesn’t feel that radically different from writing.
When she came to visit in October, I had her show me how to work the simple sewing machine I got. The rest was up to me. At almost every single step, I discovered I wasn’t nearly the pro she is; the fabric scissors I got weren’t nearly up to snuff, causing the material to fray in a significant way before I even started threading things together. My first stitch was so haphazard and lopsided that I needed to pull it apart with a seam ripper immediately after to re-sew it. My hands cramped as I ripped each thread, and I thought about how long and how hard my Mom worked to create these costumes for us as kids — and how we likely took it for granted, not fully understanding the scope of what it took to make them.
In the end, the jacket turned out pretty decently. It was a lot of work — probably anywhere from 48 to 72 total hours worth of stitch and restitching and sewing and re-sewing to make it work. If I’d started with a less ambitious project, I could have saved myself some hardship, but I’m (stupidly, perhaps) a firm believer in learning by doing — especially when it comes to projects like this. There are certainly some mistakes I made along the way, as is the case with any project, let alone one you’re doing for the first time. But as I continued through it, I often thought of my Mom. I felt connected to her in a way I hadn’t before, making me realize we’re closer than perhaps I give myself credit.
Such a simple thing, a thread is. And yet, the way it binds things together continues to astonish and amaze.
We’re officially at the halfway mark of WandaVision, so for Complex, I had a conversation with my editor Khal about our thoughts on the series thus far and what today’s MAJOR episode means for the future. Maybe save this for when you’ve finished the episode — but do give it a read. I told Khal that doing these kinds of back and forth pieces reminds me of the AV Club TV Club pieces I used to love reading. I hope someone out there feels the same way about this piece.
I’ll be honest. I’m a bit down this week. It’s been a long and busy week and I’m really bummed out I’m not spending Super Bowl Sunday with a huge group of people. I know there are so many other more important things happening in the world, but I miss gathering with friends — and the Super Bowl is one of those big social events that would have brought so many together. Just a bit of a letdown.
Anyway, enjoy the game and enjoy it safely. Maybe I’ll talk about Abel’s outfits next time. Until then, be easy.
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