Make Do and Mend, Japanese Style.

 

This last week I took my two youngest kiddos and went to visit the two oldest kiddos in Melbourne. The older kiddos live in a cool share house with two other cool people, one of whom is one of their good buddies from school days here in Launceston. They have found a nice townhouse with room for us all to come and crash for a few nights, so we did. They live in a suburb which has housed lots of Greek and Italian immigrants for several generations, and is now attracting Asian immigrants as well. This is perfect for me as every day I could go for walks and be in awe of how much food was growing in front yards up and down every street. It was amazing. So much citrus, so many olive trees, pumpkin vines growing up hedges, pomegranates, and yards filled with vegetables. And these are not large yards, just little small handkerchief size gardens, stuffed with food. These are folks who are going to see $12 lettuces in shops and laugh...

One rainy day The Girl and Rosy and I went to the National Gallery of Victoria. I always like to do this in Melbourne, hang out with the Impressionists (there are no Monets in Launceston, but two in the NGV. Luxury) and take a visit to the Dutch masters gallery and stand in front of my two favourite paintings, still lifes from the 18th century with all the flowers and fruit so exquisitely rendered. Then, in the gallery under the beautiful stained glass roof that looks like a kaleidoscope, I found this.

A genuine, 19th century Japanese boro kimono (well, I'm pretty sure it's 19th century. I was so excited by the stitching that I forgot to check the date).

Boro is the Japanese art of patching together scraps of old clothes to make a kimono or other clothing. And when the boro clothing wears out, it gets patched with extra scraps of old clothing. Indigo-dyed cotton gives the clothes their distinctive colour, and it is pieced in layers for extra warmth. Sashiko stitching, a running stitch employed in lots of decorative patterns, quilts the layers together and makes the fabric even more beautiful. I cannot tell you how much I want to make my own boro-inspired coat out of scraps I have stashed in boxes in the attic.

I tried to take detailed photos but most of them have my reflection in them. This part below is gorgeous. Scraps on scraps. The edging of the front hem of the kimono opening has worn through and shows the next layer down, in black and white stripes. 

And here is part of the lining, pieced together with all sorts of small bits, and extra small pieces providing reinforcement at the hem. 

Thank you, NGV, for your Make Do and Mend demonstration, 19th century, Japanese style (this wasn't part of an exhibition, but a long, narrow gallery just under the stained-glass roof. Last time I was there it was exhibiting pottery, but this time it is showing various items from their collection in a colour theme, with different coloured lights shining out from each display case and spilling across the floor in rainbow colours, possibly for Pride Month? Anyway, this display was indigo, of course). Of course, if the NGV ever does bring out a Make Do and Mend exhibition, I'll be there in a heartbeat.

I'll be back on Tuesday for Mending Club, inspired by boro, although I haven't even got the mending basket out yet. A reader has already sent me a link to her mending on her blog, which is very fun. 

See you then!