You don’t have to be a professional seamstress to make use of Deadstock Fabric.
I am not a natural seamstress. There I’ve said it. In my head, I think, I can do that and on occasion I’ve so convinced myself, I’ve even bought a pattern and material. No cheap gamble for someone who was once made to wear their school dress project inside out - supposedly to shame me into better sewn seams. Another time I talked a friend into helping me make a pair of trousers for my son, whilst at the same time making tea for ten… how hard can it be I said, we can read, can’t we? We can follow a pattern…. we achieved a vague semblance of the general shape. They lasted approximately ten minutes. I’d forgotten the tree climbing test!
And oh dear, maybe something to do with having no gusset, my friend observed.
Still, despite many false starts over the years I haven’t given up. I recently covered a bean bag with a piece of fleece a neighbour had decided she didn’t want.
It wasn’t perfect, I had to do a fair amount of pushing to fit the original bag shape inside the rectangle I’d created, but it was near enough to make me look around for other achievable projects.
And this is when I came across the term, Deadstock Fabric. Commercially it is the avoidance of throwing out end of line material, domestically, it is the art of making something new out of something old… ideal for someone like me.
I compiled further lists in my head
Old sheets and curtains can be cut down to make pillow cases, tea towels, cot linen, re-usable shopping bags, like this one.
Past their best towels = dusters, dish cloths, a tot sized beach robe.
The legs of discarded trousers make great tube holders for socks, plant pot holders etc, the possibilities are unlimited.
Looks like child’s play to me on my Amazing Motorised (Singer) Machine
