I wonder what the Venn diagram looks like between people who own cats, people who live with some kind of chronic illness or pain, and people who sew.
We could throw ADHD in there for good measure.
Raise your hand if you sit somewhere in the middle of that diagram!
I sure do…
Which is my roundabout way of introducing you to the humans behind this little shop.
We’re a very small team, and each of us happens to live with some kind of chronic illness or pain, and all of us have found refuge in making.
I don't mean to suggest that sewing is a cure-all for our ailments. I have days when my desire to create with my hands directly conflicts with what my mind and body can do, and other times when I ignore my body's needs and get completely lost in a project.
The relationship between chronic illness and making is hardly uncomplicated, but I do find the overlap rather curious.
Maybe it's because there is something quite tender about making things for the bodies that so often ail us.
And it does point to something else I’ve experienced since starting this little shop that I don’t quite have words for, but that circles around a feeling of something shared.
Hands down my favourite part about running this store is the building of relationships. This is easier to do in person, because we can delight in the feel of a particular fabric together, or talk all afternoon about our recent makes. But it’s not impossible online.
In fact, it was a Zoom call with a customer that inspired the topic of this newsletter.
I asked her about her experience shopping online, and I was delighted to learn that her experience felt, in her words, “so human.” She had reached out to ask about the fabric, and we had a bit of a back-and-forth email exchange, with me sharing in her excitement for what she might make.
Reflecting on that exchange, she said:
“You made it personal, and in my world the relational is everything.”
Mine too.
She shared that the experience made her want to hang around, and just spend time with the fabrics, online even, which kind of blew my mind.
That is the dream, ultimately: that you feel an invitation from us to come to our shop and stay awhile, even online. To ask us questions, and allow us the privilege of getting to share in your excitement. To allow for the possibility of the relational - alongside the transactional - to emerge in this little community we are building.
And for some, the transactional is enough. You see something you like, you buy it, and you go on your way. I respect that. Sometimes we don’t have room or capacity for anything more.
But for those who are interested in both, I thought it important to share a little of who we are, especially in the age of AI.
I’m currently coming through an intense period of burnout from running a charity that is near and dear to my heart. It's an organization I started 9 years ago, built around relationship, community, well-being, and creativity. This fabric shop emerged alongside it over the last couple of years, and was only ever meant to be my side hustle. And somewhere along the way, the relational found its way to this work, too.
For that, I’m grateful.
It means that with our team, we don’t have to explain ourselves. When someone has a migraine attack, a bad fibromyalgia day, or a fit of excessive fatigue, there is no need for explanation or apology. We cover for each other when and as we can.
When someone leaves an Instagram comment on one of our ads, as happened recently, asking “why tf are you using ai?” (we weren’t), we’re each other’s witnesses and cheerleaders, validating one another about the gargantuan amount of very human work that went into creating that ad.
I share these little glimpses into our team to humanize the effort that is behind the beautiful fabric that arrives at your door. Like you, we are people whose bodies hurt and need rest, and also people who get ridiculously excited about that new fabric shipment and immediately start daydreaming about all the things it could become.
We are drawn to sewing, in part, because it offers a gentler relationship with our bodies, the clothes we make, and this planet. I suspect many of you are, too.
I want you to know who you’re buying from. We are so lucky to carry some truly stunning and not inexpensive fabrics, and perhaps you want to know who you’re supporting with your hard-earned dollars.
So this is us.
We are artists and makers. Menders and daydreamers. We occasionally need to lie down in the middle of the day. Between us, we have many cats.
And we hope you’ll receive this as an invitation to bring a little of yourself to this community, too. Which, so many of you already do. And for that, we are so grateful.
(The fact that customers have volunteered to help us move - HUGE shout-out to everyone helping - is mind-boggling to me, and a testament to the relational in action.)
Thanks for coming alongside us on this journey; we hope you stay awhile.
Michelle
TL;DR: small team, real bodies, real gratitude. We appreciate you more than you know.
