The Subtle Craft of Weaving a Community
Birmingham’s Queen of Crafts, Charlotte Powell, on building sewing communities through inclusivity and sustainability.
Not many people can profess to have a table loom in their front room. Charlotte Powell can. The 38-year-old is preparing to host the ninth annual SewBrum event this weekend, and yet, she is more than gracious to spend a mild October Tuesday with me on Zoom.
Behind her stands a delightfully full and eclectic bookshelf, home to double-layered books, trinkets, and draped lace bunting. A hand-crafted Christmas angel is pinned to the chimney breast to the left of Powell’s head.
As a sewing blogger, co-organiser of two annual sewing events, and founder of Charlotte Emma Patterns, Powell has made it her mission to unite Birmingham sewers. Be it through Instagram, Zoom, or in-person meet-ups.
Juggling sewing, weaving, knitting, and millinery with her full-time job as a Project Manager at Aston University, Powell has become well versed in the topic of sustainable fashion. I ask about the implications of creating your own garments. “I guess making your own clothes is like growing your own food in the garden,” I say, surely better for our planet.
She counters me with grace. “Often when you start, in reality, it’s not that sustainable. Because you’re learning, you’re probably making things that are not very good, and you’ll make something, and a year later, you’ll think that’s hideous, I’m not wearing that anymore or it didn’t fit, or I made it in fabric that’s really unsuitable.”
And then, there’s ethics to contend with. “It’s slightly better than someone making it for two pence in a factory, because I’m making it myself. But then, there’s still the thing of who made the fabric. It still has implications.”
Conscience is something Powell exudes as staunchly as originality. Sporting her signature cropped bangs, burgundy framed glasses, and a red frill top, it’s not a stretch to assume the person before me is a creative. But it’s clear that while she enjoys exploring her creativity, she doesn’t take her position in the community for granted.
We discuss the barriers, drawbacks, and possible solutions. “I guess a lot of it is just about only buying what you need and making really good use of it. I mean, hopefully, you might look to buy a fabric that’s produced as sustainably as possible, but almost more important is that I’m only going to buy what I need, and make something that I know I’ll wear, and I’ll wear it for five or ten years.”
As with all diligent shoppers, Powell grapples with the inherent unsustainability of fashion, whilst trying to do the best she can. One approach is applying her skills to repairs. It’s all about “spending a bit more time, so you know you didn’t rush it, and it’s not going to fall apart, and then repairing it.”
With the recent emergence of icons, such as Tom Daley, spotted knitting in the Olympic bleachers, I ask Powell’s thoughts on the changing demographic. “I think the online sewing community on Instagram is getting increasingly diverse,” she says.
“A few years ago, one of the sewing bloggers did a review of sewing magazines…a couple of years’ worth, and every single person on the cover was thin, female, and white. And the sewing pattern companies are basically the same. There has been quite a lot of challenge on all of those counts.”
As someone struggling to breathe after lunch in my vintage corduroy trousers, I query Powell on the size discrepancies of patterns. She nods along, laughing. “On sewing patterns, well hopefully, you get measurements, so you can kind of ignore the labelling.” Thank Heavens. “And the other thing you can do with sewing patterns is that you’d get at least three measurements…but then you can say, well actually, I’m a size 10 in the bust, a size 12 in the waist, and a size 14 in the hips, and you can see that you can create that.”
Although grading can be used to create bespoke garments, until recently, patterns were only released in standard high street size ranges, often very limited. Powell has seen indie pattern companies respond to challenge on this. “There’s a lot more options for people in terms of what they’re starting from,” she tells me. “So, you can actually buy it in a size 28. You’re not having to work with something or increase it.”
Powell asks if I’d like to see the loom. Of course, I would. She turns the screen. “Oh my gosh, it’s huge,” I say. A project is in progress, with masses of black and white thread lined up amongst the heddles of this impressive wooden structure. I’m told this venture is only half way through the set-up stage. I’m told it’s going to be a bathmat.
Be it an event, a community, or a bathmat, Charlotte Powell understands how to weave, with conscience, and with style.