Stash, scraps & remnants

Over on the Check Your Thread podcast, run by the excellent Zoe Edwards (of Me Made May fame), there is an ongoing mini-series about stash management and scrap strategies. Stash acquisition and management is something I think about a lot, in terms of the physical space it takes up, the environmental burden of those objects, but also the emotional and creative bandwidth associated with owning things. I’ve been listening closely to these episodes, and have many thoughts on this topic. Some of them are summarised in the posts linked in this essay, if you’re interested in reading further. Zoe and her interviewees also have many interesting and varied opinions, and it’s definitely worth your time to give her podcast a listen. 

I approach sewing in part, as a means to a more sustainable life. Making my own clothes, mostly from secondhand fabrics, means I can reduce the carbon footprint associated with this aspect of my existence. It’s not the only reason I sew, I obviously enjoy it and get huge creative satisfaction from designing and constructing my own garments, plus joy from gifting things I’ve made to loved ones, but the environmental aspect is a large part of the reason I continue to sew (and knit). Making my own reusable products, like cutlery rolls, dish cloths, make up remover pads, and napkins, is also a large part of my journey to a more sustainable life.

A reusable cutlery roll, made from remnants of kimono cotton and waxed cloth

It also gives me a feeling of independence and resilience, to be uncoupled from fast fashion and the whims of trends. To be able to repair the crotch of a pair of jeans, or the drawstring on a backpack, rather than being forced into making a purchase for which I may not be ready, is very satisfying. It’s a FUCK YOU to the Man, to capitalism, to the Elon Musks and Jeff Bezos of the world. For all that the world has dramatically improved over the decades, with respect to social justice issues, feminism, diversity and inclusion, it feels as a society we’ve lost those practical life skills that used to be second nature. From putting up a shelf, to basic cooking knowledge, to reusing fabric scraps in quilts and darning holes in sweaters, those practical day-to-day skills that were passed down generations feel like they’ve been mostly lost in the past few decades. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for outsourcing to professionals, rather than doing everything myself, but being able to shorten a pair of trousers or sew on a button doesn’t feel that unachievable for the average person. And yet the rise of fast fashion, of Shein and Temu and Primark, has lead to a person being able to buy a new pair of trousers for less than a pack of Wunderweb. It’s no surprise the younger generation haven’t learned sewing skills. You can buy a replacement item for cheaper than repairing the original, with no additional hassle of learning or applying specific skills.

One of my three scrap baskets

However, I digress. I’ve been following Zoe’s Scrap Strategies series with interest, as someone who constantly battles with a stash. I don’t tend to buy fabric with any frequency, but I’m lucky enough to be gifted fabric on a somewhat regular basis. Often it’s from people clearing stashes from loved ones who have passed on, so there’s an added emotional burden of wanting to do the fabric justice. I tend to quickly separate the stash into objects I will use, and those I know straight away aren’t my style or won’t be useful to me. I try to donate anything I won’t use to a charity shop I know will make the most of haberdashery, one with a specific niche for fabric and notions. 

A pair of pocket bags, made from kimono cotton remnants and an old pillow case for the sew-in interfacing

I have multiple scrap and remnant bins, roughly separated into fabric type. I recycle anything less than around one inch square, since I’m not interested in working with fabric that small. I use the charity bins you find in supermarket car parks for recycling, if you check their website you can often find information on what they will do with textile waste. Recycle Now have information on textile recycling, if you need help locating textile waste recycling in your area. I use cotton remnants as pocket bags, facings, and sew-in interfacing, or heavy weight cotton as patches for garment repairs. The pictures below show a recent mini-project (coming to the blog at some point soon) where I weaved together cashmere textile waste to produce a fabric, then sewed this into a project bag-come-napping pillow for work. It will make more sense when it’s fully explained in it’s own post, and I have to credit Deborah of Dastardly Line for developing this technique. Her blankets and scarves are practical, beautiful, works of art.

Space is a premium in my flat, and I have no interest in storing scraps for years on the off chance I might decide to use them as stuffing for a pouffe or find a passion for quilting. I’m all for individual responsibility over waste production, but I’m also firmly of the belief that governments and corporations need to ultimately bear the burden of responsibility for waste production and management. There is a lot of well-meaning hand-wringing in the sewing community, about the waste we produce and how best to manage it. It’s noble to be aware of this waste, and not replace shopping for fast fashion with sewing fast fashion, but equally I don’t think treating our cupboards as an alternative to the landfill, by storing fabric for years (sometimes decades!) without using it or recycling it, is a viable option.

In one of her podcast episodes about scrap management, Zoe speaks about the concept of ‘ebb and flow’ of fabric in and out of your stash. I really like this concept, of the stash as an almost living entity, with natural rhythms and cycles rather than an inert collection of objects. Fabric and notions should move in and out of your stash, with acquisitions hopefully roughly matching usage. Obviously you do you, I don’t want to yuck anyone’s yum, if collecting fabric is your passion. I think the key is mindful acquisition. If you buy a lot of fabric because the ownership brings you joy, and you have the finance and space to manage those purchases, then don’t let anyone else’s opinions stop you. Equally though, if it’s the thrill of the purchase that drives you, rather than the joy of sewing, then perhaps you’ve replaced fast fashion with ‘fast sewing’.

A remnant of leather from an interior designer sample book, turned into a card wallet

I personally consider my stash in terms of the time it would take me to sew up each piece of fabric. If a top might take a couple of evenings, and a pair of trousers a week or two, I can back-of-the-envelope calculate how much fabric I own in terms of time. The concept of ‘stash acquired beyond life expectancy’ (SABLE) gives me the real fear. I see these listings on Facebook marketplace or Gumtree, of huge job lots of fabric and notions leftover when someone dies. The wasted potential, time and money those resources represent makes me really sad. I fully appreciate I will most likely die with unfinished projects and a stash left behind, but I would hope that should be small and manageable, not entire rooms or attics-full of fabric. I’ve experienced the physical and emotional labour inherent in sorting a beloved family member’s stash remaining after they die, and it is stressful. I wouldn’t wish that on any of my family or friends.

One of the three bags of scraps and remnants I recently donated to charity. I’ve read that grouping these together and labelling the bag with their category or potential use, makes them easier for charity shops to process.

I currently feel some guilt at the size of my stash. I was very kindly gifted some vintage Harris Tweed, found when a friend-of-a-friend was clearing a relative's house. Obviously Harris Tweed is a special fabric, so I didn’t hesitate before very gratefully accepting that offer. I also have four rolls of fabric leftover from Craft & Thrift shop days, including vintage Laura Ashley and Bute wool. These fabrics feel too special to pass on just yet, but equally I have to ask myself whether 12+ metres of floral fabric is ever going to be useful to me. Florals aren’t my personal style choice, and there’s only so much sewing for other people I can manage. I gave away 3 large jiffy bags of silk and floral scraps recently, and felt huge relief at the subsequent space, both physical and emotional, that decision provided. I have a large piece of rough wool, leftover from Craft & Thrift days, that I want to use to make my Mum’s old dog a warm winter coat. My plan is to cut what I need for Gilbey and then donate the rest, but I’ve had that plan since last October and somewhat missed the boat on winter now. We’re moving house soon and I’ll have to think hard about whether these fabrics are worthy of the time, money and space required in moving them.

Over on my now-abandoned Instagram account, I have a pinned highlight for scrap uses. There are also loads of ideas on Zoe’s podcast, Check Your Thread. If you have any specific ideas for uses for scraps & remnants, feel free to pop them in the comments for other sewists to see. Let’s share the inspiration!