Quilt Clothes Mustn't Die
Yes this is a belated response to a video published six months ago, and it's still relevant!
This is a continuation in an ongoing series exploring fashion and fashion-adjacent topics. In the first series post, I wrote about the frustration of faux-upcycling amidst an abundance of existing textiles to actually upcycle.
I consider myself to be a “crafty” person. I learned how to weave and cross stitch and sew when I was in elementary school, I learned how to knit in high school, I learned how to crochet in my twenties, and I learned how to punch needle in my thirties (you can see my work at dancingarms.com and @dancingarms on Instagram).
“I can probably make that myself” has been a common refrain when I come across a textile- or fiber-related project that intrigues me. Just this morning I sought out a sewing pattern for a skort because I didn’t want to buy one! Across from my desk are two Ikea KALLAX storage units overflowing with fabric scraps, stationery, sketchbooks, pens, pencils, paints, objects waiting to be repurposed, and yarn - so much yarn!
My love for crafting is a combination of my ADHD brain’s constant search for stimulation (hello, new hobbies), my frugal upbringing, my teacher mother and designer father, and my desire to understand traditional craft and art.
One may assume, then, that when Mary Fons, a prominent quilter and quilt-centric writer, educator & lecturer published a video decrying the use of vintage and antique quilts to make garments - jackets, coats, bags, dresses, pants, pet clothes, statement collars, and so much more - I would be on board and join the chorus proclaiming that preservation of these quilts is of the utmost importance, and to cut and repurpose them is a “crime against culture”, as the video states. Fons further opines that if a quilt is not being used or preserved in its original state, it should be preserved in a museum.
But it’s not that simple.
Very few things are that simple, in fact. Just as the faux-upcycled splice tops were a case study of the fashion industry & greenwashing, the discourse that surrounded this particular video (originally titled “Quilt Clothes Must Die” and since retitled “Stop Cutting Up Quilts to Make Clothes” while maintaining the block letter original title as the thumbnail) is a case study of nuance lost in conversation online, stories we’ve been told, and shame.
You said that video was posted six months ago. Why are you writing about it now?
I did! Excellent reading comprehension.
At the end of the video, Fons suggests that those who wish to participate in this trend wait until it hits the mass stores and buy it from them. That detail caught my attention because it was the exact opposite of my argument in the splice top essay I had just written.
I initially set out to write and share this within a week of my last essay, but in the spirit of my own thesis, I did not want to rush a response. Did I take feverish notes while watching that video and consider making my very first YouTube video a direct response to it (a response that likely would have qualified as a “rant”)? I sure did. I also researched further. Then I sat on it and let it stew in my brain. Was I oversimplifying? Was I too righteous? Is this worth writing about?
I’m working on getting out of my head and just doing things. It’s a slow process. And no, I am not going to answer those rhetorical questions.
Social media & nuanced conversation aren’t really friends.
While I will critique specifics of the video, I want to be clear that this isn’t about that singular video nor its author, because this scenario is not uncommon in the age of social media. Every day, someone shares their point of view on an issue on their favorite platform, tailored according to that platform’s respective time and/or character limit, and it is presented not as a point of view, but as a fact that, if disputed, will reveal the disputer’s true character and subsequent beliefs about everything else of importance.
This occurrence may be considered a thought-terminating cliché, a term credited to R. J. Lifton in his 1961 book Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism and having a resurgence in my cultural universe thanks to Amanda Montell’s 2021 book Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism. Lifton’s definition of a thought-terminating clichés are when “the most far-reaching and complex of human problems are compressed into brief, highly reductive, definitive-sounding phrases, easily memorized, and easily expressed. They become the start and finish of any ideological analysis”. That reads like it is also the definition of a hot take.
Most of the platforms used to share such perspectives were never built to foster nuanced conversation, and they have not evolved to accommodate. Conversations aren’t happening in real time and they are more often than not depersonalized or anonymous. Responses may be ignored, deleted, or blocked to cease discourse altogether. Further, because each platform’s hyper-specific algorithm is built to boost posts with higher-than-average engagement (likes, comments, shares, etc.), the more polarizing the point of view, the more likely it will be seen by many, bolstered by righteous comments pointing out how right or wrong the author is.
In order to obtain higher-than-average engagements, authors may feel the need to catch as much attention as possible with a striking image, thumbnail, or video title. I believe Fons knew what she was doing when she titled her video “Quilt Clothes Must Die”, posting it to YouTube and then sharing to her Instagram three times in a row with a black box and the video title in all-caps. It certainly caught folks’ attention.
There is no ambiguity in the intent with this message. The thesis is that it is never, under any circumstance, acceptable to cut a quilt and make something else. The title evokes violence with the insistence that something “must die”, and that violent language continues throughout the video as the author refers to resold quilts as “lambs to the slaughter” and garments made from quilts as “desiccated corpses of quilts”. She is, by her own admission, emotional.
That emotional delivery, intentionally or not, in turn incites strong emotions in viewers and makes it difficult to challenge her stance without appearing to be a careless cynic who doesn’t mind the so-called killing of quilts. Even if it’s just a quilt top that hasn’t been completely quilted with backing, something she refers to as a “future quilt”.
According to the video, even damaged quilts or quilts that the original owner wishes to be repurposed should not be cut and remade into other functional objects because, as referenced earlier, to use quilts in this way is a “crime against culture”.
Where does one go when presented with this perspective? How can a dialogue be had when one party disparages any alternative to be akin to murder, especially when we are talking about quilts (or any inanimate object, for that matter)? There is no room for dialogue, there is no interest in nuance. There is hyperbolic venting and explicit shaming. One must respond by agreeing wholeheartedly, adopting this aggressive stance that garments made from quilts are never okay, or disagree and risk being called out for failing to appreciate quilting as an art form, historical documentation, and cultural tradition.
But there is much to explore within these polarities, and I researched in search of said nuance. I am pleased to share that I found some of it on Instagram, of all places. This section is titled “social media and nuance are not really friends” because I learned that it is not absolute!
It’s hyperfocus time! Let’s dig in.
I sought the perspectives of others, both through research of other writing on this topic and offline (just kidding they were on Zoom) conversations with Shannon (@rare.device), an art historian and sewer; Gina (@ginarockenwagner and @soft_haus), a knitwear designer and quilter; and my mother, a hobbyist quilter.
The conversations were cathartic (Gina, Shannon, and I share overlapping views as it relates to sustainable and ethical fashion and how a culture of capitalism and white colonialism influences this discourse but WE’LL GET THERE) and enlightening.
I assumed that my mother, who has recently donated quilts from our home to a tailor who makes garments and accessories, was 100% team quilt clothes, but I was wrong. In fact, she is particular about which quilts are used to make garments and accessories; she believes that mass-produced quilts, whether purchased new or secondhand may be repurposed, but vintage or heirloom quilts should be left alone. At first I balked at this stance, because I was standing firm in my “I cannot in good conscience agree with a single point in that video” point-of-view. But as my mother shared more, I acknowledged that this is a fair compromise and that it is possible that some antique quilts are being scooped up and repurposed without any regard for its history or familial connections.
Gina made an excellent point noting a flaw in the argument against repurposing quilts: quilts, by definition, are made of repurposed goods. Why wouldn’t further repurposing be acceptable? It led to a discussion around the idea of ownership - a wholly capitalist concept that emphasizes the individual - and inherent rights, expectations, or responsibilities that come with it. She and I both wondered why there is an expectation of labor surrounding an item like a secondhand quilt (Did you research if it’s handmade or machine made? Where did it come from? How old is it? Can you find any family with ties to it to whom you should send this quilt so it may reside with its rightful owner?) but not the same expectation when it comes to any other purchase?
In that same vein, why do makers of quilt clothes have to share every detail they can about their materials while mass producers of apparel have no such responsibility? I am grateful when makers are transparent about their material sourcing and process, and I wish large manufacturers were held to that same standard.
Shannon and I were strangers before I DMed her asking if she would speak with me because her response to this video resonated with me. Particularly, I appreciated the questions she posed as a general rule for using or reusing any crafted object:
“Does this belong to me, culturally? Will my remaking damage or destroy an original spiritual intent? Will my use/remaking give it further life? We might also ask who we honor by preserving objects - as a white person I might love my immediate ancestors but that doesn’t mean that their culture is part of an underrepresented minority.”
Both Shannon and Public Library Quilts, a studio by art historian and quilter Jess Bailey, also noted that museums are a relatively new thing and have a history worth considering. Bailey wrote in a text series on her Instagram:
“[M]uch of this history is very violent towards Indigenous people, Black people, and people of colour. Also to disabled people, non-binary and queer people … Currently museums (some more than others) are unpacking what is a systemic structure and history of white institutional priorities.”
Shannon and I dug in deeper to the cultural implications that come with this need to preserve objects. As an art historian, Shannon has a unique and specific understanding of art and craft preservation, and she elaborated on the newness of museums.
“This archival impulse is actually pretty new … it’s become a really naturalized cultural value. Like, of course things should be saved. Of course it is a tragedy when things are not.”
Wanting to preserve objects is not bad or wrong, but she is interested in unpacking that cultural value and its link back to colonialism (I told you we’d get there).
Heirlooms historically require two things: a heterosexual family structure that bears children, and the means to have, store, and preserve such objects. Shannon continued, “colonialism is passed down through patriarchy lineage, and the ways in which that impacts interpersonal family dynamics today because we, again, understand that as a shared cultural value, shared cultural norm, that you accept the heirlooms and you hold them and then you pass them onto the children that you of course have”.
Wait, we’re talking about colonialism now?
Indeed we are. When Shannon and Public Library Quilts alluded to that link, I was surprised (and also not surprised) that I hadn’t considered it. Seeking to research further, I found a 2020 essay by Macushla Robinson, “The Hidden Histories of Heirlooms: Slavery, Decorative Arts, and the Domestic Labor of Forgetting”. Robinson’s essay examines some of the techniques by which “the family heirloom naturalizes the wealth of white families” from the noted perspective of herself as part of a white postcolonial family. She cites anthropologist Arjun Appadurai to define an heirloom as “ex-commodities … things retrieved, either temporarily or permanently, from the commodity state and placed in some other state”, and further elaborates on the concept:
“[S]entimental value wrests economically valuable things from the world of finance - the liquidity of which also poses a threat to the family as a transgenerational organization of wealth … to mark an economically valuable object as a sentimental heirloom is to sequester it: we imbue objects with private sentiment by telling stories that inscribe them with filial significance. Thus, the heirloom secures intergenerational wealth.”
Ironically, the etymology of the word “heirloom” traces back to a 15th century Middle English “ayre lome”, which means “inherited tool or implement”; it was originally a tool and intended for utilitarian purposes, yet heirlooms are rarely used.
Robinson’s essay further explores feminized domestic labor alongside “theories of historical memory and silencing” as it relates to the stories told about heirloom objects.
“[I]n performing the everyday care of objects, we reperform the stories that we have been told about them. Such domestic labors are mechanisms of inheritance that metabolize violence. The care of heirlooms reproduces a bundle of silences that protect the attachment of whiteness to wealth. This attachment requires constant maintenance. It is a ritual enactment of a promise to keep heirlooms safe for the future … inheritance presents a choice: either carry on the labor of forgetting, or attempt to rupture the material and conceptual norms of putting things in drawers and cabinets that engineer selective and coherent narratives.”
Again, I do not believe this means heirlooms are bad and something to be done away with, but I do think they are a tool to investigate familial and cultural history, both the truths and the omissions. In fact, I wonder if repurposing an heirloom quilt can break that protection of attachment to whiteness and wealth.
Brittany Watson Jepsen of The House that Lars Built wrote a similar sentiment in a 2021 blog post addressing quilt coats:
“Taking something that is old and making it modern is one of my favorite ways to keep history alive. And that’s how I feel about repurposing quilts into fashion.”
Mary Fons’ background quickly helps one understand why her opinion is so strict and emotional - this is her and her family’s life work. That level of specialization and devotion to a topic or craft or job clouds one’s ability to step back and consider additional perspectives. It makes it harder to hear opposing opinions.
It is okay to share an opinion about a topic, and even to do so passionately. I’m doing that very thing, right now. But when an individual has a platform and a position of authority on a topic, I believe that there is a burden of responsibility that comes when publishing work that is to be consumed and understood to be fact. With that perspective in mind, I believe this video is irresponsible. It is centered on a singular point of view that comes from a specific upbringing and culture and presents it as a universal truth.
Can we get back to fashion please? I thought this was about fashion.
It is, because fashion is a reflection of culture, as any art medium is a reflection of culture. And quilt clothes are in fashion. I don’t believe they are as rampant as those opposed to the idea believe - we do have aforementioned hyper-specific algorithms that skew our perspectives about how prevalent ideas or trends are. But it’s worth noting that quilt clothes are out there, and they’ve grown in popularity. According to a New York Times Style piece by Isabel Slone, independent clothing maker Psychic Outlaw grew from an individual side project by Rebecca Wright to a team of 13 employees and an expanded physical space to accommodate in less than two years.
But the fear that this trend will drain us of all quilt resources is misplaced. These coats are not cheap, nor should they be, considering the labor that goes into producing them. By their nature, each garment is one of a kind and therefore cannot be mass produced. The suggestion to wait until the mass retailers pick up on the trend is, frankly, silly, and certainly ignoring the larger negative consequences of that recommendation.
Mass retailers cannot deliver this style at the prices their customers demand and produce a garment that is well-made. If they tried, that would be a crime against quilts, because the amount of quilts they would need to procure in order to deliver the scale of their business needs would be massive. What is more likely is they will mimic the aesthetic with patchwork details or fabric that has been printed to look like a quilt pattern. That is also not ideal, as it is a facsimile of a truly thoughtful and beautiful garment, and a poor substitute for an actual repurposing of materials - just like the faux-upcycled splice tops!
To encourage this shift in buying also feeds into the fast fashion trend cycle, training shoppers to see an original piece and simply wait the 6-8 weeks it will take for a knockoff to show up on SHEIN or Cider or Urban Outfitters or Target. In an age where trends turn and burn faster than ever, amplifying the already astronomical textile and clothing waste issues, we should be encouraging more repurposing, more usage of secondhand garments and materials.
I thought not shaming was part of this argument - are you shaming me right now?
I am not!
There is a lot of shame out there, especially when it comes to the ethics and sustainability of fashion and textiles. I want people to make thoughtful purchasing decisions, and I understand that may mean buying a season’s wardrobe at Target or Old Navy because it’s all a budget allows or it’s the only place to find the right size. I do not think it is fair nor helpful to shame individuals for any reason, but especially not when it comes to purchasing decisions. Not in this economy.
There is an exception to that opinion, and that is for rich people. If you are wealthy and have the means to find and purchase the most sustainable, ethical option, I see no valid reason why you would not do so. So I amend my opinion not to shame individuals for any reason because it seems I am very cool with and in fact encouraging the shaming of rich people.
Even with the shaming of the wealthy, change will not happen if the only way we advocate for it is through individual actions, and certainly not if that advocacy is shaming people who don’t follow the actions that you deem necessary. We can and should shame institutions! Shame the corporations who are willingly and knowingly shilling product that is made to fall apart in two washes or who casually knock off an independent designer who launched a wholly unique trend in order to bring it to the masses faster and cheaper and control the market for five minutes until the collective moves on.
In conclusion…
Live your life? Do your best with what you have. Do not hurt others or yourself. Stop and consider before posting a hot take onto the internet: what stories have I been told that influence this take? Is my perspective perhaps influenced or narrowed by those stories or my own privileges? Probably yes! We are all led by our own unique experience, and the privileges of our lives come with that experience. Stop and consider before posting an angry retort to someone else’s opinion: am I oversimplifying? What experiences or perspectives might they have that are different from mine and influencing their opinion in a way that I have not thought of?
Also, please don’t buy the fast fashion version. That’s not shame, it’s a request. Unless you think you’ll wear it forever. Buy whatever you want and wear it forever, longevity is sustainability. But know that the fast fashion version may not hold up. But also then you can learn apparel repair, and that is a fun and handy skill to have!