Redeeming a Screwed Up Sweater
10.23.2018
This is the cubby in my closet where fabric scraps live. But a few weeks ago, this cubby also became home to an unfinished attempt at a McCall’s pattern
I started working on it in a terrible mood, hoping a project would lift my spirits. Instead everything that could go wrong did go wrong. It was too small and tight to zip properly, but unzipped the zipper looked stupid. I didn’t do the facings correctly. The two lines of stitching weren’t even close to parallel. It was itchy. As my frustration built, I accidentally snipped a 2 inch hole in the shoulder. When I cut that hole I was so annoyed I couldn’t imagine trying to finish it. I crumpled it and stashed it with my scraps. I was too mad at it, turns out, to even snap a photo. I went back to bed.
Over the last few weeks I’ve taken it out to finish it a few times, gotten frustrated immediately, and put it away. Last Sunday I took it out again, but this time I found myself ready to tackle it. I decided to remove the zipper altogether, and allow it to be worn open as a drapey style cardigan instead. I placed a cute little patch and some sashiko style stitching around the hole, and I finally hemmed the sleeves. Worn with long sleeves under it it isn’t too itchy after all. Actually, it’s kind of cute, and I’ll probably wear it sometimes.
When I finally picked this project up and finished it, I kept wondering why it was so hard in the first place. What kept me from finishing this project? What made me stash it back away every day I tried to return to it?
I usually come to a craft project with enthusiasm and energy. I’m excited to make the thing, I’m excited to wear the thing, and I’m a little bit restless. When I’m in that mode I want to finish it, and I want to finish it quickly. This time though, I was tired and grumpy. I just wanted to lie around in bed, but I chose to force a project instead. From that zone the resilience to hit an obstacle and keep going just wasn’t there. In this case, mistakes were a symptom, not the problem. No part of me wanted to be working on this, and when I snipped that hole in the shoulder it was the signal I needed that I was forcing it and it was time to stop. I wasn’t listening to myself. In this case, my resistance to fixing the sweater was simple, but also meaningful: I didn’t want to do it and I needed a break. When I ignored that information and kept working as the sweater slowly became a mess, I made a mistake (a big cut out hole) I couldn’t ignore. I decided to listen to that mistake and take a break. I came back to the project when I was ready and finished it successfully.
This mistake was a really good teacher–it gave me a strong, clear reminder to listen to myself when something feels wrong by stopping, taking a break, and trusting that I will want to return to it when I am ready. The mistake wasn’t in my way at all, it was just trying to help me get some rest.