Operation Stash-Down

 

Last month, I spent a week thoroughly cleaning and reorganising my workroom so that I could actually get to all the shelves, and not have my back to the door. I even made space to fit a skinny bookshelf (I can finally have all my books out where I can reach them. It's been more than seven years since that last happened).

Last week, I watched one of my favourite YouTubers issue their now-annual "January is for working on The Pile" challenge. I considered my Piles (what a phrase) and decided this was an excellent use for the rest of January. I went through the mending pile, adding and subtracting as necessary, and updated the running list I keep of the things in there (it's the only way to stop things from disappearing into the aether). I tidied up the cabbage patch, taking the opportunity to go through a few boxes that were stored outside the workroom and sort their contents into piles.

Yesterday, I looked around my workroom (it had once again gone from clean and tidy with actual floor space, to One Big Trip Hazard within half a day), and decided that I have too much bloody stuff.

This was almost completely clear twelve hours ago.
L-R, T-B: for coleslaw (green), cabbage once deconstructed (yellow), actual recycling (blue), and rag rug bits (red).

In search of compostable clothing closures

Making clothes that are 97% biodegradable is surprisingly easy. Pick a natural fibre fabric, buy some 100% cotton or linen thread, and you're there. (You can even get 100% cotton overlocker thread - though you have to go searching for it.)

Those last few percent, though? That can be tough. One of the biggest offenders is closures. While there are plenty of clothes that don't need something to hold them shut, I confess I like having the option. Below is a round-up of various closures, and their compostability.

Note: for the purpose of this article, I'm treating metal closures as "compostable", in the sense that they're 1) easy to remove before you compost the rest of the object, and 2) infinitely reusable on other things, unless they break - at which point they're usually recyclable using our current commercial systems. And remember, re-using things that already exist is always preferable to buying new, "better" items.

Turning Bedsheets Into A Wardrobe and Other Second-Hand Thoughts

The Dilemma

When it comes to my clothes, I'm a remarkably lazy snob.

I want things that fit well. (This isn't an unreasonable thing to want, I feel.) I want comfortable fabrics that breathe, and don't end up smelling like a billy goat slept on them. (I swear, since starting T, I strip my shirts more often than I ever had to strip the cloth nappies.)

I want colours - black and white and grey don't count - that don't make me look dead. (When did all the t-shirts in the men's section become navy and olive?) And I want them to last longer than six months before they start a part-time internship in the mending box.

The pile doth wax and the pile doth wane, but there's always a bloody pile.

This short list is surprisingly difficult to achieve, off the rack. Anything that fits my shoulders won't fit my chest, and vice versa. The armscye is usually either comically large, or too small to fit my biceps. And pants? Let's just not go there. (Belts help. Kind of.)