A Gathering of Stitches: Slow Fashion August Retreat
Letters from sewing summer camp
I’m back from a week of teaching in Maine at the Gathering Of Stitches Slow Fashion August retreat. It was immersive and overwhelming and eye opening in the best ways, and an experience as layered as this will take some time to fully process. Here is what I know now: I met many beautiful souls and was reminded of how good it feels to share space with kindred spirits, I re-learned a lesson about self-compassion, and I witnessed how sewing connects us with each other and with ourselves.
My adventure began back in late July, when I flew from Seattle to Washington D.C. to visit my mom for a few days. On August 3rd, I packed up her little gray Toyota with boxes of teaching supplies and hit the road. I spread the drive from DC to Maine over 3 days, stopping to pick up my friend Ruth Collins along the way.
Ruth and I have been friends for years but we’d never met in person until last week. Our friendship started on Instagram with discussions about fitting, and it grew into Zoom calls and emails about every other aspect of life. Sometimes when you meet up with people you’ve met over the internet, it can be awkward to realize that you’ve only just known a sliver of them, and instantly you become aware that they are actually still a stranger to you. Happily, spending time with Ruth was nothing like that, and within a few seconds of meeting her, I felt at ease in the company of a dear friend. By the end of the trip, I felt like we were sisters.
Ruth and I arrived to the retreat late on Monday evening, after most of the other campers had already unpacked but thankfully just in time for dinner. Samantha Hoyt, the retreat organizer, greeted us with big hugs, gift bags, and a warmth that made me feel immediately at home. We scurried to dinner and then circled up with the whole group in the barn to introduce ourselves. Toward the end of the evening, Sam instructed us to look around the circle at the faces gathered there, and she said that by the end of the week, we would all feel like family. She was right.
The retreat hosts 36 makers, who are divided up into 3 groups of 12. Each group rotates through 3 full-day workshops taught by 3 different teachers. Campers also have a couple of free days to spend sewing, napping, reading, swimming in the lake, or whatever else feels right.
In the teaching department, I was joined by Rae Hoekstra, who taught a workshop on patchwork for garment sewing, and Jessica Marquez, who taught a workshop on refashioning clothing. I loved getting to know them over meals and in between class sessions, and I really wish I could have taken both of their classes. Ruth was my teaching assistant, helping with fittings and adding her perspective on developing the Top Down Center Out fitting method. I couldn’t have done it without her.
My workshop was a whirlwind. To teach 12 people how fit pants in about 6 hours is no small feat, but my students were all quick learners. My primary goal for the workshop was to upend conventional beliefs about fitting. Top Down Center Out is a method that does not require makers to scrutinize their bodies or apply labels to body parts in order to fit. Instead, the method takes a neutral approach to the body, and focuses on optimizing the basic dimensions of the design—vertical crotch length, horizontal crotch depth, and circumference—to get a great fit.
The proof of how effective this method is came at the end of the week when everyone had gone through the fitting process. We fit about a dozen different patterns on makers of all shapes and sizes. Every single person looked truly phenomenal in their final toiles. As I scanned the classroom, it was a powerful reminder of how every one of us, regardless of age, shape, size, or gender can look absolutely fabulous in any design, as long as the fit has been tailored to the unique dimensions of the body. For some makers, this was a breakthrough.
I’m not sure I realized how moving it would be to witness this. Most of us carry around a lifetime of emotional baggage about our bodies, and it’s heavy. But to watch some students gently set aside these feelings and look in the mirror with a fresh perspective, that was eye-opening—for them, but also for me. It was a reminder for myself that we are always our own harshest critics, finding flaws in our bodies that aren’t actually flaws at all and withholding grace and compassion from ourselves when we need it most.
Another reflection from the week is how my definition of “the sewing community” has changed over time. I have always sewn in solitude, and I used to think of the sewing community as being exclusively online, mostly on Instagram. More recently, I’ve enjoyed sewing with my friend, Candace, in our shared sewing studio. The two of us have a standing Thursday morning sewing date, which is always a weekly highlight for me. The retreat expanded my sewing circle even further; it was a reminder that there are many other humans in the world who also love what I love, who will enthusiastically geek out over patterns, fabrics, and seam finishes at the dinner table. Compared to being in the physical presence of other makers, Instagram seems so flat now. I’m left wondering if there is a way to make the online community feel as engaging and vibrant as sharing a physical space with friends.
Community and connection seemed to be themes for others at the retreat, as well. Many makers shared personal stories of how sewing connected them to each other and to loved ones. I teared up when one maker shared the story of how she lost her mother recently, but when she found her mom’s sewing machine, she decided to learn to sew as a way to preserve a connection to her mother and all the memories of her. Many others had similar stories of how sewing became a respite from grief and loss, and how it buoyed them through a difficult time—something I can also relate to. I thought about how sewing is not really a hobby for me, it is a process for interpreting my life, expressing myself, and connecting with others.
More than anything else, I’m coming away from my week at this retreat filled with gratitude for these makers and for our time together. It was a reminder that we are all wild, beautiful, complicated, imaginative human beings, with endless potential for learning and changing. It is easy to forget sometimes, especially when I get caught up in daily routines or when I spend to much time on social media. I will look for more opportunities to remind myself of these lessons, and I hope to return to Maine for another retreat in the future.
Until next time,
Stacey
This is so well written and really conveys the love, learning and camaraderie shared by you and the others at the sewing retreat. I can totally see how IG would feel flat after this. I have only rarely (once?) met someone I became friends with through sewing and that felt like such a three dimensional experience as compared to simply knowing them on IG. But one makes the most of what one has and I am grateful to have found you through your sewing and Ruth too (she is a delight!) Here is to more meeting, and greater connections--offline, and online (when the former option is simply unavailable).
This sounds amazing! Will you be teaching other workshops? As others have said, I would love to attend one some day.