By Melchior Tuerk ’26

Contributor Biography: Mel is a senior who cares a lot about people and their stories. In their last semester at Washington College, they are enjoying the library terrace, walks to get ice cream, and time spent with friends. They look forward to returning home to the Lehigh Valley after graduation in May, where they will be beginning a fellowship at Lehigh Gap Nature Center.   

Brief Description: This is a proposal for a craft project focused on mending hand-me-down clothes in the spirit of resistance and memory. A history of mending and its decline in Western culture except for in times of trouble provides context for the role it plays as a form of nonviolent resistance, and I make personal connections to the role of mending as a “means of memory making and resistance” in my own life.  

The following was written for ART/ENV/POL 394: Crafting Resistance

Introduction 

Up until the 19^th century, mending had been a crucial part of domestic life. Women in charge of the home would mend clothing and linens until they were no longer salvageable, at which point they would repurpose the textile to produce other household items. The final life stage of a textile often was its use as a cleaning rag. At this time, it made more economic sense to repair an item than to throw it away and replace it with a new item (Berthon). However, by the end of the 19^th century, mending and hand-me-down culture was beginning to lose its appeal. The introduction of germ theory “altered cleaning and disposal practices, and American women’s responsibilities in the home expanded to include a stricter definition of good hygiene for her family” (Le Zotte 187). The industrialization of production also led to lessened reliance on mending and repair. As it became easier for people to purchase material goods, it became easier for them to throw their old things away. This was also supported by the increased infrastructure for waste disposal (Krebs and Weber 34-35). 

What we choose to mend depends on a variety of factors. The first requirement for a mended item is some sort of wear and tear. This visible use displays the item’s value to the user. The decision to mend the item is a matter of sentiment and practicality. A pair of socks from Walmart is less likely to be mended for sentimental reasons than an old bedspread belonging to one’s ancestors. On the other hand, the socks are more likely to be mended for continued use, especially in situations where money or materials are scarce.  

The method of mending is also variable, depending on skill, motivation, and the item itself. Those without sewing skills may choose to simply stitch up a hole with a running stitch, while a skilled mender may choose to mimic the fabric of the item with delicate darning. In other situations, mending can be an outlet for creativity or resistance. Menders may choose to embroider a beetle over a hole, or cover it with a political patch.  

Mending inherently resists a jumble of social issues. By mending a garment instead of buying a new one, the owner resists consumerism and capitalism, instead choosing to be a steward of their belongings. By not participating in the clothing economy, the mender also resists the impacts of climate change created by the clothing industry, including water and air pollution and greenhouse gas emissions. The method of mending also provides a stage for resistance. By visibly mending clothing, the mender makes an outward statement of their resistance. Menders can take this to another level by mending with specific messages sent through patches, embroidery, and other methods. Examples of this resistance that I will discuss later include the mending practices of enslaved Africans and punk teenagers.  

Literature review 

Stefan Krebs and Heike Weber’s paper on the lifespan of objects offers an interesting perspective on the way that humans engage with their belongings. They describe repair as a “reciprocal relationship between humans and their material environments” (Krebs and Weber 29). From their perspective, a culture of repair has been devalued over time, but not uniformly. They specifically cite the role of repair in “periods of war or crisis” (Krebs and Weber 30). The development of “consumer and throw-away societies” is multifaceted (Krebs and Weber 30). Between the industrialization of production, developments to waste disposal infrastructure, increased labor costs and decreased material costs, and “ownership cultures,” it has become increasingly common for individuals to throw their belongings away before the end of their lifespans (Krebs and Weber 30-31).  

The “lifespan” is a commonly used term for an item’s “time in use or in useable shape” (Krebs and Weber 36). However, the authors argue that a better term would be a “cascade of use” that highlights the production, use, recycling and repurposing, and disposal of an item (Krebs and Weber 39). Today, repair most often occurs as a necessity in times of crisis, or as a tool for self-fulfillment in one’s personal time (Krebs and Weber 44). In a blog post for the Cooper Hewitt Museum, Magali An Berthon writes about the “make-do-and-mend” campaign in the US and the UK during World War II. At this time, the combination of material rationing and low costs of repair led to the governmental support of mending in the home. A video highlighting an exhibition organized by the Board of Trade aired on British Paramount News in 1943 and highlighted the “exclusivity” of mended clothing. In non-necessary situations, self-fulfillment can come from a variety of places depending on the motivation behind the repair. Some examples might be the desire to mend a meaningful item like a grandmother’s quilt as a means of memorializing, or the desire to fix a ripped pair of jeans to make a stand against fast-fashion and consumerism.  

Ruth Terry writes about the resurgence of domestic crafts alongside the growth of the fast-fashion industry. In this context, mending and repair are tools of resistance, reacting to the role of the clothing industry in today’s climate crisis. The industry accounts for one tenth of all greenhouse gas emissions and uses more energy than the aviation and shipping industries combined. However, consumers are at fault as well. Each year, the U.S. generates 17 million pounds of textile waste, which is almost ten times as much as was produced in 1960. Mending also has more sentimental and social connections. Terry writes that “whether we will actually mend the garments we buy directly correlates to how much we value them.” The role of care in the mending of garments and repair of items is crucial. Terry cites examples of enslaved Africans repurposing textiles discarded by their enslavers as displays of status when sewn into their own clothes. She also cites her own experience growing up, when she would spend the evening with her family, mending clothes and household items (Terry).  

The importance of community mending is also purported by the Street Stitchers. Street Stitching is a global movement where local groups meet to mend in public and educate pedestrians on their techniques and motivations. The stitchers describe the movement as “an act of gentle disruption that demonstrates the pleasure and necessity of garment repair in areas of fast fashion chains where consumers are already thinking about replacing or adding to their wardrobe” (Street Stitching). These resistance groups meet in public, but much of their organizing happens online, alongside many other independent menders who post their work on platforms like Instagram or TikTok. A climate research NGO based in the UK reports that mending an item to make it last an additional nine months reduces its environmental footprint by 20 to 30 percent. Kate Sekules, a fashion history professor at Pratt in New York, sees two benefits to mending: the statement against textile waste and the harms of the clothing industry as well as the increased value of the clothing after investing time and creativity into its continued use (Šeruga). 

Mimi Thi Nguyen’s essay on “punk pants” merges identity with resistance, practicality, and temporality. As a young punk person, she would wear the same jeans to everything, not washing them often, but rather allowing the pants to mark a “practice of duration, and an aesthetic of devotion.” Her foray into punkness ultimately started with her identity as a refugee, and she quotes her mother’s response to her punk pants: “we don’t have to do that anymore.” However, Nguyen’s embrace of punk subculture blossomed from a need to repurpose into an ontology of punkness that valued labor, resistance, and time. The art of the punk pant lies in the sustained commitment to the utilization of one’s belongings, the deep care and personal identity that becomes literally and figuratively woven into the garment (Nguyen).   

Personal connections 

Growing up, my favorite thing to do was look at photos of my parents from the ‘90s. Today, my dad is a politician, and my mom is a professor, but back then they were a “gutter punk” and a grungy feminist with a distinct look. Other than their punk personalities, two things that remain from this time period are one of my dad’s sweatshirts and a pair of my mom’s jeans. The sweatshirt is an XL polyester and cotton navy double layer hoodie. As a kid, I sewed my first button onto the front pocket and would play with the lighter caps already attached there and to the hood. As I got older, I gained a greater appreciation for the faded and torn patches he (or maybe my mom) had sewn on over the years, and my sister and I often fought over who would get the sweatshirt when he didn’t want it anymore. My sister ended up with it for a few years, attaching my dad’s Pennsylvania hunter-trapper education certification patch and one from her trip to Croatia, but by the time I was in college she was ready to pass it on to me. The modifications I have added myself include a patch from an art market, a small patch I made with a stamp I had carved, a peace sign button pin, and the word “dyke” stitched across a faded patch on the front pocket. As for my mom’s jeans, she gave them to me in high school while I was trying out my own grungy feminist identity. Low-rise and ripped from thigh to knee, I decided to embrace the paint stains that she had left for me, and I turned them into what I called my “senior pants” by the end of high school. I encouraged my friends to doodle on the denim and even had one of my favorite musical artists at the time sign my leg after a concert.  

These garments hold a lot of sentimental value to me, serving as artifacts of my parents’ lives before me and the life of my childhood. While the jeans don’t fit me anymore, the sweatshirt is one of my current favorites, and it’s important to me to extend the lives of these items for as long as I can. To me, the refusal to throw away these tattered clothes is resistance to the capitalist and consumerist values of the clothing industry and its environmental and social impacts, as well as a resistance to the erasure of the collective memory of my family and their history of resistance.  

Works Cited 

Berthon, Magali An. “Make do and mend: the art of repair”. Cooper Hewitt. https://www.cooperhewitt.org/2017/01/03/make-do-and-mend-the-art-of-repair/ 

Krebs, Stefan, and Heike Weber. “Rethinking the History of Repair: Repair Cultures and the ‘Lifespan’ of Things.” The Persistence of Technology: Histories of Repair, Reuse and Disposal, edited by Stefan Krebs and Heike Weber, 1st ed., transcript Verlag, 2021, pp. 27–48. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctv371cfpw.5. Accessed 2 Mar. 2026. 

LE ZOTTE, JENNIFER. “‘Not Charity, but a Chance’: Philanthropic Capitalism and the Rise of American Thrift Stores, 1894-1930.” The New England Quarterly, vol. 86, no. 2, 2013, pp. 169–95. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43284988. Accessed 2 Mar. 2026. 

Nguyen, Mimi Thi. “Punk pants: trash, time, and labor”. The Funambulist Magazine. https://thefunambulist.net/magazine/03-clothing-politics/punk-pants-trash-time-labor-mimi-thi-nguyen 

Šeruga, Kaja. “Stitch it, don’t ditch it: resisting fast fashion through visible mending”. Reasons to be cheerful. https://reasonstobecheerful.world/clothing-visible-mending/ 

Terry, Ruth. “Mending: An Ancient Craft for Modern Times”. Craftsmanship. https://craftsmanship.net/field-notes/mending-an-ancient-craft-for-modern-times/