~featuring Celia Pym
Close your eyes. Imagine a set of twins. One is fair-haired, the other one dark. One cheeky, one serious.
One, an artist. The other, master of stick drawings.
One consistently steals his brother’s neatly presented colouring pencils whenever the opportunity arises. He doesn’t do much drawing, but nicks them just for kicks. Or, he claims, he badly needs them for his graphs at maths.
The other one, for whom said pencils are his most prized possession – he is the artist, drawing is his catharsis – , one day decides he should leave an assortment of pencils aside, on his brother’s desk, with a note:
‘for Pawel. Steal only one at a time’. This continues whilst they live in the family home.
And now open your eyes. Unimagine it all. The boys are adults now and they are not twins. Born 16 months apart, from the same womb, they could not be more different.
Born 16 months apart, but brought up as close as twins. Too close? So close, that every single Christmas and birthday present has to be identical. Or else? Or else tears, fighting, more fighting and upset.
So the presents stayed identical. From their third Christmas until their 27th. Always identical. The twins/ not twins left the family flat, moved away and built families of their own. Still, when the family gathered for Christmas, the twins would be handed over two identical Christmas gift bags, and inside them, two identical presents, along with the same number of oranges and wrapped sweets.
Underneath, a snapshot of the twins who are not twins, with their 27th Christmas present, which looked identical, and yet it wasn’t.
Their 27th Christmas present was a stripy, multi-coloured top.
It never occurred to me to check these two stripy shirts until I met Celia Pym, earlier this year. That is when I realised that it would make for a wonderful present if I asked my husband’s brother to send us his own identical top, which by now would have been 10 years old, to be mended by an artist. This is what Celia does: she takes your most beloved and significant garment and mends its holes. She then returns it to you mended and touched by an artist’s delicate touch, for you to wear for hopefully years to come.
So I got Pawel’s stripy top from the cupboard – it was, indeed, full of holes, and waited for the packet from Poland to arrive.
To my great surprise, there was a difference in the tops. They had discoloured a fair amount, but symmetrically. And yet they had torn, developed holes and loose threads in their own ways.
As I was packing Andrzej (my brother-in-law)’s top away, I looked closer to both labels. The tops had never been identical to start off with! Pawel’s was size XXL, Andrzej’s XL. I guess a child is always unique in the eyes of their parents. The two boys look the same height and weight to me, yet their parents saw one slightly bigger than the other. I guess it is our parents who will pick up those most intricate and distinguishing qualities about us.
Two boys who look the same height to me and to their friends, but those two boys are size XXL and XL in their parents’ eyes.
Celia artistically mended Andrzej’s top. The choice of colour and design are just right. Andrzej got his present, but in a way, I got a present too. I had an unexpected opportunity to revisit this dear memory of a long time ago – yes, that was me taking the picture.
An artist’s touch
And this is what Celia does. By bringing her a garment to mend, you do not only receive back a wholly unique, beautiful piece which was touched by an artist’s hands, but you also get, as a bonus, the reframe of a story deeply meaningful to you. Celia sows stories into clothes, and like this, they are preserved forever.
Celia is a textile artist who darns other people’s clothing, whilst listening to their stories and the people’s relationship with the garments. Before modifying your clothes, Celia discusses with you why you love your garment and consider repair options.
I had both this T-shirt and my Grandma’s cardigan repaired during an amazing exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London: The BBC Woman’s Hour Craft Prize. Celia organised a few open days, when anyone could bring a garment for her to mend. During the workshop, we also got to map the holes on a large tracksuit, which will provide a record of all the holes seen over the course of the mending days.
You can hear Celia talk about her work here, she is such a wonderful person and so convincing about the work she is doing. And here is more about the V and A’s exhibition.
I believe the exhibition is now on tour. Very worthwhile catching up with it!
And more about Celia’s work.
The other garment Celia mended is a cardigan. You can read about it here and about its designer here.
And here, about Pawel’s mum, here, about his dad.
Would you like to StoriSSe a meaningful event?