The Foolishness of Craft Explored: Part 3 Mary’s Materials

This is the third of my posts looking in more depth at The Foolishness of Craft, a story that explores the impact of global production and suggests a more local, sustainable alternative. If you haven’t read it yet, then it might be best to click here and do so, before reading on. 

 In the last post I explored some of the environmental and social problems caused by the production of Hugo’s jumper and focused on the manufacture of cotton, nylon and wool from large-scale farms. It was a rather gloomy, but necessary, post. This time though we are going to explore the materials that Mary used and few she could have – its much more positive and forward looking article…

Mary’s jumper is made from local undyed organic wool, it has travelled from a field in the village (via the sheerer who worked at the farm) and has been washed in nothing more than soap and water. 

I am aware that this sounds a little idealistic and pastoral. How convenient that Mary lives next to an organic farm that happens to keep sheep that produce wool suitable for spinning and knitting into a jumper. And yet, is it really so impossible to imagine, at least for those living in rural areas? At the moment in Britain most sheep are breed entirely for meat, with wool being a secondary low value product, but this wasn’t always the case and several traditional breeds were dual purpose, for meat and fleece and even possibly dairy too.

The British wool trade has improved since 2008 when farmers were setting fire to their fleeces, because the low prices meant it wasn’t worth handling and transporting them for sale. Prices for this year are four-fold what they were then, but the quality of the wool is deemed by buyers to be only suitable for carpet making and that’s where 75% of British wool ends up.

And yet what I am suggesting isn’t simply pie in the sky; of course there is a historical precedent, but actually today you can buy organic, British yarns made from the most beautiful British wool and you can even get them dyed with organic dyes into range of colours. Likewise we have access to a number of animal fibres, such alpaca and angora, all produced in natural and humane conditions here in the UK, and this will be true in many countries throughout the world; there are local, sustainable alternatives to mass-produced wool. But these things cannot exist in a vacuum; no one will raise a flock of the finest wool-producing sheep using natural farming methods, if everyone is getting their wool from cheap intensive operations abroad. 

That said, it is important to accept that it is possible to have very poor welfare conditions on a local farm as it is on one far away. However, by buying as local as possible you have a greater chance of being able to assess the welfare conditions of the animals you are buying the wool from, either through direct personal contact, media or animal welfare charity reports or by looking for certifications (e.g. organic). The other important point is that in most countries there are also democratic and political routes to improving and monitoring welfare and so you can have a say in the conditions which form farm practice and law, if you purchase from the country in which you reside and have voting rights.

A slight side track, but if Mary couldn’t afford natural, local wool or was unable to get it, she could have used recycled wool. Almost any jumper or other knitted item can be unpicked fairly easily and the wool rewound to provide a good knitting or weaving yarn. If you get a larger jumper size than you are, even with the inevitable waste, you should have enough for a new one.

Of course it isn’t only wool that we are able to produce in Britain, there are a range of fibre producing plants that grow in our conditions. Flax (linen) is perhaps the most obvious and again this is a traditional material that was grown, spun and woven across Britain, often on a very small scale, requiring none or very little of of the pesticides and excessive water that cotton does. This is entirely possible again and there are small organisations and companies that are providing training and access to the tools to help revitalise the production and use of linen.

Even more than flax, hemp is being rediscovered as a commercial crop. In the C16^th it was considered so vital to the British economy that Henry VIII passed a law stating that farmers had to grow a quarter acre for every 60 acres of arable land they owned. In China they have never stopped growing it and have a 6000-year history of production. Part of the problem has been the confusion between the innocuous hemp plant and the related cannabis plant – a confusion that still exists in Britain today where you need a licence from the Government to grow it. 

Hemp has deep taproots that penetrate down into the subsoil, drawing up nutrients and moisture. That means it requires none of the intensive watering of cotton and, when it is harvested, the roots rot down, increasing the humus and nutrient levels in the topsoil. Because it grows so fast it out performs weeds and therefore requires little or no herbicide. The outer shell, which is removed during the process of fibre extraction, can be used to make logs for wood burners – the ash of which provides a valuable plant food for the garden.

 Again this isn’t some fanciful dream, you can buy today hemp yarn, material and products. Even if, at the moment, this isn’t grown in the UK (although often it is EU produced) this is a huge improvement over cotton, the production of which causes so many problems.

Finally there is one plant that grows like a weed (because it is) and yet can also be used to make fibre; nettles. A few years ago there was quite a bit of discussion about the possible use of nettle fibre and De Montfort University had worked on some government funded research, as well as producing some example pieces of clothing. Since then the hype seems to have quietened down a bit and the only real world product as far as I can tell is a 75% wool and 25% nettle fabric produced by Camira in England. Nettle has less fibre content than say hemp or linen, but it is a very fine fibre and could potentially make a good yarn. There is also the added benefit that it is able to provide multiple products from one harvest, such as sugar, animal bedding and leaves for human consumption and, as everyone who has ever had a garden or allotment knows, it grows quite well in this country, with no pesticide, herbicide or fertiliser required. There is a fair bit of historical use to draw on (even as recent as the second world war) and surely this plant deserves more research and experimentation.  

There is no point in pretending that swapping to locally produced, sustainable materials is going to be as easy as it should be, but it is possible – not just in the future – but in the here and now. Mary could indeed knit herself a jumper from organic wool, even if she chose not to spin it and instead bought in the yarn. Likewise, many of the alternatives, such as flax, hemp and nettle provide fantastic opportunities for experimentation and discovery, even in a home or small group environment – the results of which could genuinely be new and should be shared with others. So why not go on a course to learn how to grow and spin flax? You know that patch at the bottom of the allotment that you never get around to weeding, well why not try growing some there? Perhaps get some hemp fibre and have a go at spinning it on a drop spindle or do up a chair with the 25% nettle fabric? Or simply buy in some organic wool and crochet a hat. You may not be able to make enough to clothe the whole family, but the possibilities are enormous and the discovery is half the fun, and every success you do have could make a huge difference to someone you’ll never meet.

Some recent things...

Weaving

We'll start with weaving, as that’s the craft that takes me the most energy to come back to. Not because I don't love it - I do - but because success is not always guaranteed and the initial warping and dressing of the loom takes a while; which doesn't easily fit with my impatient nature that loves to see something finished the same day that its started. But that's good; as it makes it not only a craft exercise but a personal (spiritual?) one too.

We were visiting our adopted local city, Norwich, a while back and in one of the charity shops down by the Cathedral square was a lonely (slightly dirty) cone of creamy yarn. A sniff and a rub on the neck by both of us confirmed it was wool and I happily parted with £2 for what is over 2lb of yarn. It’s a little coarse and sticks a touch during weaving, but it looks to be undyded and has the most wonderful feeling of welsh hillsides and leaves your hands scented of lanolin.

My weaving skills are still very embryonic, but I wanted to try something new, so I have created a check pattern by warping a charcoal woollen yarn every 11th warp thread and then weaving to the same. This meant the charcoal thread had to run along floating selvedge, which has given me something else to worry about when it comes to the tricky selvedge. I certainly recognise myself in the following description that I found on one website 'Frequently, new weavers have trouble making even selvedges when they weave, or they fuss excessively over the selvedges, slowing down their weaving'. You'll notice that the photo above doesn't show the selvedges!


The other half walked in on me when I had done the first three inches and announced I was weaving a snood for her - although it will need a lot of softening and fulling if that's the case.


Book Binding & Slipcases

I am really pleased with some of the book binding that I have been doing - in particular slipcases for existing books. I followed an excellent tutorial on YouTube by Sage Reynolds and have made a few now; all using recycled materials. When we were clearing out my parent’s house I found a pile of foolscap envelopes, all of them sealed. I have no idea why or what they were for, but the inside paper texture is really interesting and made an excellent work-a-day book cloth for the two volumes of Roget's Thesaurus. All the cardboard comes from display signs that our local clothing shops throw out with depressing regularity each Sunday. Some have cardboard stands at the back, which limit their useful size, but I have never needed to buy any card for my projects.

When I got a copy of Miriam Darlington's book Otter Country I just knew it was crying out for a slipcase that made the most of the book's dust cover. I made a template of the cover to ensure I got the window in the right place and then created a slight ressess to finish it. Likewise I have protected my favourite little volume of poetry 170 Chinese Poems, with a rather pleasing black and yellow slipcase.

Please do give these a go; if you have a favourite book it really does make it stand out and gives it a little something. There is nothing quite like ordering a coffee in a cafe and sliding out a little volume from it's homemade slipcase to make everything feel pretty peachy and special.

Where from here...?

I know I still haven't shown you the homemade bone folders yet, plus both the book press and engineers cabinet are still being worked on. With the weather having finally broken the allotment is going to be the subject of my next post, followed by a photo blog of me making up some willow cloches.

How to Replace the Felt or Baize in a Toolbox Drawer, Engineer's Cabinet or Jewellery Box

I bought an old Moore & Wright engineer's cabinet the other day, in oak. It's rather lovely, but missing its door and handle, which is a shame, but neither is crucial in a private workshop. However, the old felt had been removed from the draws and so I set about replacing it with some new lining. Along the way I learnt a bit, so thought I would pass it on in the hope that it might be of use to others. Whilst the example here is a little draw from the cabinet, the same instructions would apply for a cutlery draw, jewellery box etc. - indeed anything where the sides were straight and there was no complicated structure.

The chances are that as you have found this post you already have something that needs a new lining, but you know almost any old box, chest or cabinet can be rescued with a bit of sandpaper, a bottle of wax and some new felt; it will almost certainly be nicer than a modern mass produced thing and will represent another bit of the past saved and used (which is the best way of saving something like this). Good for the object, twice as good for the environment and just as good for your soul. What more can you ask?

Step-by-Step Instructions on How to Re-felt a Drawer or Box

Step 1: Here is the draw that I want to re-felt. It is important that it is free from any old lining or glue blobs, this is particularly true of the corners. If need be scrape these out with a craft knife.

We start by felting the sides and so measure the depth of the drawer and the length of the sides and front/back.

Step 2: Felt or baize is far from cheap and so it pays to think ahead as to how you are going to use your material. I did my first drawer, then once I was comfortable I cut all the sides out for the 4 identical small drawers, trying to make sure I had as little waste as possible.

You need to add 1mm or a slim 1/16" to the depth and 5mm or 1/5" to the width of each piece, to allow you to fit it exactly to the side you are working on - this is particularly important with old boxes or cabinets, where sizes might not be consistent. Indeed on a very 'rustic' item or large box you might need to add more than this.

Step 3: Once you have cut out your strip, mark with a pen what you intend to get out of it, this is particularly important if your cutting a number of strips in one go. Do this on the same side as you marked out for cutting, so you only have pen marks on one side. Here I had a piece that had 2 sides and 1 front or back piece in it.

Step 4: We start by doing the sides, rather than the front or back pieces. So take the right sized piece of felt and mark the side and the piece of felt with a number so that you know both which piece goes where and which way up it goes.

Step 5: Set the piece of felt in the drawer, so that the bottom sits on the bottom of the drawer. You should now see the extra width protruding from the top of the drawer (and it will show up poor cutting as it has here!). It is now a process of gradually removing thin slivers from the edge, until it meets the top of the draw. Try to do this from the top, so as to remove any final pen marks from marking out. Don't throw the waste slivers away - you might need these later!

As I say it is important that we go through this, cutting and matching each piece to each side, to ensure we get a good fit. The photo actually shows me fitting the back, but the process is exactly the same.

Don't worry that it doesn't look 'right' at this stage when you lay them in, they won't until you glue them.

Step 6: We now do the ends, again the photo shows me doing the back, but the process is the same for the sides. Quite simply reduce the length of the piece until it fits; do this in small steps. Obviously, as per the photo, you need to have the sides sitting there when cutting the front and back to length.

Step 7: How you glue the pieces in is really a matter of preference. You certainly don't want to get glue on the face side of the felt and, not being the most careful of people, I decided to glue the 2 sides, front & back and then wash my hands, before putting them in.

However, the inside faces of these draws are not sealed and the wood is very dry, so it was drawing the moisture out of the glue really, really quickly. For the larger draws I had to glue and place the four sides one-by-one. You'll just have to play about and see what works for you and the project you're working on. Whichever way you choose, a wet tissue and towel on hand it a good idea.

The most important bit of the face is the top lip and this will get the most wear as the drawer is used, so make sure you have plenty of glue here - I kept a thin dibber to hand so that I could add further glue as I was placing it.

I would like to have used a natural glue, but they are still on my 'to get to grips with' list, so this is simply PVA.

Step 8: Ensure that you have the right piece, the right way up and then carefully place the end into the corner. You follow the top edge, almost - but not quite - ignoring the bottom edge, smoothing it down with your fingers. You might well find that when you get to the other end the felt has stretched a little and that you need to trim it again. Do this for all four side pieces.

Step 9: With the two sides, the front and the back now done we turn our attention to the base. Either measure the internal area (again adding 1mm or a thin 1/6") or draw around the drawer. The only problem with the later is that you could waste quite a bit if the sides are thick. Mark one of the corners with an X and do the same on the back of the felt, so that you know what goes where. Fit the marked corner tight on both sides. You should be able to just push it under the felt on the sides, to give a nice tight edge - although don't worry too much at this stage as we'll be taking it out again.

Step 10: Once you have got it laid in tight use a ball point pen to mark off the excess. You don't want to push the tip into the corner, but instead rest the pen on the base. Try to mark it so that you cut on the inside of the line, removing all of the pen mark. Remove the base, cut and then do another trial fitting, adjusting as needed.

When gluing the base I found that it was helpful to put a piece of paper up against the sides to protect them from any wayward glue (or sticky fingers!). Smooth in the base felt, starting from the corner marked with the X. Push it under the sides with a finger nail or alike, to ensure a nice sharp edge. 

Step 11: Do you remember the little slivers I said not to throw away? Well just sometimes you'll find that the bottom edge of the side doesn't quite meet up with the base felt. In that instance you can carefully glue in one of these to hide it away. It's not perfect, but for 90% of jobs it will be close enough...

Finally sit back and marvel at your new draw lining! New baize really makes a huge difference and can transform a tired cabinet or box.

Back on the loom again...

If you could see me, you would see a big fat grin on my face. Because after almost a year and half I am actually doing some more weaving. As I have mentioned before we acquired the loom in December 2010 and made three scarves and a tie as presents (literally finishing late into the night before we left to be with the family for the holiday) and since then it has sat unused.
 

The three warps marked up

Whilst they all came out quite well, we were always battling the warp – both in terms of getting it onto the loom and inconsistent tension. Most of this was caused by the fact we didn’t have a warping frame and was using a upturned sofa or two chairs stood apart. Neither worked well – unsurprisingly! However, as you’ll see here I finally got around to making a new warping frame at the start of this year.


Now, in typical me style, as soon as the warp frame was finished (actually there was still one peg to do!) I decided to weave a 12m (39ft) length of fabric, at the full width of the loom, which is 36”. As you see from a photo on that previous blog post from a couple of months ago, I even warped out half of it. However, I got into a right old pickle, the tension still didn’t feel quite right, even on the warping frame and I couldn’t remember how to warp the loom, never mind that I had added a homemade raddle into the mix since.

And so the whole project ground to a halt and I found myself unable to see the wood for the trees – inertia invariably took over and still the loom sat unused.
 

After 1 1/2 years the first new warp
being woven on the loom

Then last week someone suggested that perhaps I should start a little smaller. Put the troublesome 39ft warp to one side and try again, with scrap yarn on a short warp. Hmm... now that sounds obvious written down, but at the time it was just the prompt I needed. And so I wound a short 2m (6ft) warp onto the warping frame and... well... buggered it up! I didn’t have the raddle cross and the thread cross at the right end!

But no matter, scrap yarn that I can use for something else, take two...

I can’t remember what went wrong with take two... but something did. Time for some help, time for youtube. So I went looking for a step-by-step guide to warping the loom and found myself being helped along by Barbara Elkins.

Finally warp three was a success, a real success actually. A nice even tension, that so far has persisted through the warp and I even managed to do it single handed.

3/8" stripes, but soft lines because of the
slugs in the cream yarn

 I deliberately haven’t loaded a ‘useful’ length of warp onto the loom, so that I don’t get seduced into trying to ‘make something’. The point is that this is a tester warp, for trial and error...

The yarn is one my mother-in-law found at a charity shop a while back and to look at it on the cone I wasn’t too keen, but actually on the loom it doesn’t look too bad. The label says it’s a wool/cashmere mix, but it also seems to have a cotton or poly core to it, under the slugs. I only set the warp to 8 ends per inch (epi), so that I didn’t waste too much yarn until I got the knack of warping and with the intention that I would do two more tester warps, at 16epi and 24epi, so that I can see the difference that increasing the number of warp threads has - perhaps doing the same designs as I have on this one so I can compare.

I started out trying a very loose weave, with the same yarn as the warp. This looked nice, but moved easily up and down the warp so that the pattern never held. I then tried a block of weaving, in both tabby and twill, again with the same yarn. Nice, but perhaps a bit 1980s Marks & Spencer.
 

A 5" tester sample piece
and then on to something new.

On the shuttle bobbin I had a pale blue silk/cotton mix yarn that had come from a jumper we bought at a charity shop (see the post here on recycling wool). It’s a fine yarn, but I thought I would give it a go and I was rather pleased with the result. Again it moves up and down the warp a bit (I assume this will stop when I increase the epi), but I actually quite liked the ribbed effect. It is beating in at around 160 picks per inch.

After an inch or so I decided to try a striped pattern, using a tabby weave on the blue silk/cotton and twill on the wool/cashmere, in 3/8” bands. I am really pleased with the result – the colours and pattern have an almost Georgian undertone – but looser and softer. The slugs in the wool/cashmere yarn stop it from ever being ridged or precise, which is good as even this is moving up and down the warp a bit (not quite sure how it will sit once off the loom). The twill would have benefited from floating selvedges, which I’ll do next time, but I am pleased with the silk selvedge.


I could have quite happily have done a whole warp of this and made something out it... but that’s not the point is it? So I restricted myself to a 5” square block and now it’s on to try something new...

Recycling Wool

I love jumble sales. They are a real antidote to what is wrong with the world. For a start they are almost always for a charity – be it children, wildlife, historic buildings, cats or anything else that needs care. Secondly they rely on people recognising what it is that they no longer need and then offering that up for others to use. Likewise for the buyer it offers the chance to acquire a real range of stuff (far more eclectic than you’ll find on most high streets) at prices that are affordable. It is a wonderful celebration of what life should be like.

However, as anyone who has ever been to a jumble sale will attest to, all these high minded ideals can be a little hard to find once the door is opened and the baying crowd is unleashed on the tables, all overseen by a formidable army of older ladies eager to ensure that every item is found a new home and that, more importantly, every 20p is collected. In the heat of the moment there is little time for cool calm contemplation...

Which is the main reason why that lovely jumper I had been so pleased to find, was in actual fact an XL. I suppose that I could have taken it to a charity shop as there was nothing wrong with it, however it was made from Scottish spun tweed wool and in the end I decided to unwind it and recycle or upcycle the wool.

The jumper part way through being unwound

Ask almost anyone who has a wartime memory (as both my father and aunt do) and they will tell you that recycling wool was a perfectly normal thing to do as fibre had become hard and expensive to acquire. But even today the economics of it are surprising and, although I shudder at the idea of deciding what is worth doing by whether the pounds and pence add up, it does actually make financial sense.

I purchased the jumper for 20p and from that I obtained just over 600g (21oz) of usable Scottish tweed wool. If I was to go and buy that from Rowan it would be £5.90 per 50g (plus P&P), a total of around £72 ($112). It took longer than usual to unwind it (see below), maybe 6hrs, but it was a happy little task that I could do whilst listening to the radio and even in the car (no, I wasn’t driving). Of course if you get jumpers in angora, cashmere or alpaca the savings can be considerably more.

In weaving projects I have done before I have used recycled wool as the warp, but I have decided here to use the wool for both the warp and weft, in a straight forward tabby weave. It will be first time I have used the full 36” width of the loom, having only done scarves and ties before. For weaving I don’t do anything with the wool other than wind it onto a bobbin and then it’s always under tension during the process of weaving. For knitting you would certainly want to steam or gently wash the wool on a niddy-noddy for a while to release the crinkle. This particular yarn has a new texture to it, slightly raised where it has been on the outside of the jumper, however with this type of wool I think it only adds more interest.

How to unwind a jumper

Slightly vintage labels like this can be used
as a reminder of the fibre and its origin.

Firstly it is really important to ensure that your jumper was made in the correct way. There are two methods in making them up. The first uses panels and a stitch up the seams, usually from the same wool as the jumper is knitted in. This can be quite hard to see, but gently pulling the seam should show a thread running back and forth between the two panels. This is the one we want, because the second method – using an industrial overlocker – stitches the panels together (often with a cotton thread) and then cuts the end of the woollen seam. This results in a cut stitch at the end of each row and so lots of short lengths.

Once you are sure that you have the right sort of seams (and that you do actually want to loose the jumper!) cut along all the seams, being very sure to only cut the woollen thread holding them together. If you are successful you will know because you end up with two panels, the ends of which are uncut. Often at the base of the seam it will be strengthened by cotton thread stitching and it is almost impossible to unpick this. You just have to do the best you can and accept a few rows of lost wool - likewise up and around the shoulders. It is a process that is much easier to do than describe.

If you get to a problem (perhaps a damaged or stained area) you can cut out strips, so long as you do so along the row and not down through the rows. Then take off any sort bits until you get continuous rows again.

On this particular jumper the main body came away two rows at a time, which was slower as I had to wind it on to two bobbins.

Calculating how much wool you have.

Calculating the wraps per inch (wpi)

Once you have your wool into a ball or on a bobbin you can weigh it and calculate how much you have obtained. I got just over 600g (21oz) from this very large jumper, with 60g (2oz) of ‘waste’ wool that we will use for stitching or filling, plus there was a zip. If you were going to knit a jumper try to get a size or two above the one you are going to make or one that uses more wool (e.g. a polo neck). If it is vintage or attractive the label can be attached to remind you of the yarn’s fibre.

To calculate the length of the wool take a ruler and wrap the yarn around it, laying each wrap one next to the other along a 1” gap. To make it easier I have set a set square to a one inch gap, one day I’ll make a wooden gap with the calculations on the back. This particular wool is 16 wraps per inch (known as wpi) so therefore I am likely to have around 2400m (2,600 yds) of yarn. How did I come by this calculation? Well by using the many, many charts on the internet – of which each one says something different. You have to have a look at a few and then average them out and certainly when you are planning your project you need to allow a bit for error. A more accurate way would be to wind it around a known length (such as a niddy-noddy) to create skeins.

Old mill bobbins with the recycled wool

So there we have it two 100-year old mill bobbins being used again to hold recycled wool that is going to be used again! Such recycling should be the stuff of life...