At the end of January, I participated in the Winter 10 x 10 Wardrobe Challenge. At the surface, it's an exploration of the creative possibilities of the clothes you already own. That said, there are many other lessons (and questions) that came up for me during the process. I highly recommend you try it! Here's what to do:

1. Pick out 10 of your favorite items of clothing (or little worn, or thrifted, or handmade – you choose the criteria) and one pair of shoes, and mix and match your chosen items for the next 10 days. You can choose to include shoes or not, and accessories are not included.

2. Document your outfit combos with photos, starting to create a personal wardrobe ideas database.

I chose the following items:

• my latest Metamorphic Dress (rust linen on one side and black and white ikat on the reverse)

• mauve Lander Pants

• my sand washed rayon Arenite Pants (pattern in development and coming 'atcha this Spring)

• black silk Matcha Top

• striped Stasia Tee

• mauve sand washed rayon Strata Top

• thrifted jean jacket

• thrifted wide leg jeans

• mama bird tee

• Ace and Jig reversible Inez top

60% handmade, 20% thrifted, and 20% store-bought, which is pretty representative of my wardrobe on a whole.

My absolute favorite item to wear was my pair of black Arenite Pants (shown above).  I seriously can't wait to get this pattern out into the world! They are so comfortable, and I feel like they are secret pajamas to the max, while being unique in their shape and drape in a way that makes you feel like a work of art. They feature a 2” or 3” soft elastic waistband – your preference – and either stretch knit cuffs or woven cuffs with an elastic casing.

I also found myself reaching for my Metamorphic Dress a ton - for the comfort, reversibility, and layerability. Same goes for the reversible Inez top – I almost feel like I was cheating by having the ability to reverse my clothing for a whole new look!

The challenge confirmed that I love certain dressing “formulas.” (They are NOT uniforms – I resist the idea of not having to think when I put something on in the morning. I LOVE thinking about creative options and color combinations … what I don't want is not knowing what shapes to wear that make me feel beautiful in my skin.) I can dress with a Metamorphic over wide-leg pants under a cropped jacket/cardigan till the cows come home and not get bored. I also love a relaxed top + Arenite pants + cropped jacket. Easy, but made creative with color choices and accessories.

Let's talk for a moment about accessories. They are magic. Your body will never grow out of them, and you can layer + play with them as much as you want to create a completely unique look. Scarves are some of my favorite pieces to play with. I'd never worn my hair in a full-on head wrap until this challenge, and oh my, I adore it. Perfect for day four post shower (I'm a homeschooling mom, y'all!) when I can't add any more dry shampoo without looking like I have a head full of cornstarch. I used this tutorial.

I did start to miss my other clothes by the end of the challenge, but managing to NOT reach for something different made me dig deeper into creative possibilities. Towards the end, and spurred on by a smidge of boredom, I came up with these two outfits (above), which I ended up liking quite a bit. I never knew that I could tie my Matcha Top like a button down shirt, but that really opens up new ways to wear it. I was also heartened to find out that you can successfully create a colorful capsule wardrobe. I love me some black, but I never wake up wanting to feel “neutral,” or wanting to look like all the college students living in my town. I'm too old for conformity, thank goodness. What freedom to be able to dress in a way that brings you joy, creative inspiration, and non-negotiable comfort!

I'll admit to having a moment of panic when I realized that, truly, I already have a wardrobe I love. What does that mean for my love of making? Is everything else from here on out pure excess? Sure, I could use a button down shirt and those black, high-waisted Ginger jeans, but truly, I am good. But geez, I'm a pattern designer, and sewing slowly and with love and intention brings me much joy. It's my mindfulness practice.

I determined that I can slow down my sewing even more, and include more heirloom pieces for my kids and quilt sewing for them as well. I don't need to purchase any other items of clothing, either at a thrift store or from ethically manufactured brands I do enjoy supporting from time to time. Given that my profession necessitates sewing women's clothing, I can auction off any excess garments for a good cause. (Our favorite is Partners in Health.) Something to consider, balancing need and the joy of making, and a 10 x 10 Challenge is a great way to assess your current closet. 

Or, why I took a break from sewing, and why I'm back at it.

I worked myself raw in the years after Lachlan's birth and first two heart surgeries. I filmed my Craftsy course, came out with a ton of new patterns, and attended my first Quilt Market. Sew Liberated was our primary source of income while Patrick was in grad school, and since we had such high medical bills, it needed to grow. Sewing became work - something that took me away from my little family. But Sew Liberated wasn't cutting it. We made the decision for Patrick to teach himself programming so he could jump off the history PhD ship that was sailing to oblivion. We needed to be able to stay near Duke for Lachlan's cardiology needs, and we needed a more stable income. When he landed a programming job, I became a full-time mom, and no longer had the time to work on Sew Liberated, even if I had wanted to.

We hired Danica to run the show, and I took a deep breath. Lachlan's third open heart surgery was on the horizon, and I did a ton of mental work to prepare myself for that sickening moment when I handed my baby off to scrubbed and masked strangers. I meditated. I did yoga.  I tried to get us out into nature as much as possible. Tried to create a nurturing cocoon of a home. Tried to do anything in my power to equip my little ones with love, attention, and good memories. I birthed a sweet baby girl. I felt my ability to focus on anything other than my family slipping away into a pleasant, homey blur. My family became my creative outlet. Months went by, and I didn't touch my sewing machine. Then a year passed. I didn't miss it. It was work. I didn't want anything to do with it.

I didn't miss that rushed feeling of trying to sew "just one more seam" before the baby awoke. I didn't miss feeling frustrated when I didn't finish a project in the allotted time frame. I didn't miss the constant stream of project ideas that would hound my thoughts when I could have been enjoying the present moment with my kids. I didn't miss the creative to-do list. I didn't miss the stacks of yet-to-be-used fabric, beckoning me from the shelf. They used to cast a shadow of resentment over my children for their incessant needs that took me away from being a more productive creative person. 

The surgery day dawned. If I hadn't focused on Sew Liberated since before Sadie was born, now I didn't even give it one thought. Facing the tender, fleeting, mortal nature of being human gives you tunnel vision. This little boy of mine had his heart mended and fit by a tailor far more skilled than I. His surgeon's skilled hands touched Lachlan's heart, stitching pieces of previously-used human cloth onto my baby's own fresh tissue. Weaving gortex with muscle, he re-designed a circulatory system that would, for the first time, provide Lachlan with near-normal blood oxygenation levels and the energy of a typical three year-old. Lachlan's heart is re-purposed. Fully functional, yet beautifully flawed, like sashiko mending. 

Nearly six weeks later, after battling with accumulating fluid on his lungs and the subsequent dehydration of his treatment, Lachlan's little mended heart slowed and stopped. I was at home, nursing a stuffy-nosed baby and five year-old. Patrick was with him as they rushed him to the pediatric cardiac ICU, soon starting chest compressions. When I got the call, I was eating a veggie quesadilla, which I spit out while I screamed and fell to the floor. I thought he was dead. I guess, in a way, he was. Had he been at home, 30 minutes from the hospital, he wouldn't have survived. (Hence our eventual move downtown. Covering bases, you know.) 

Lachlan recovered. But what does it mean to recover? To cover again. To mend. The mending is visible. Like his heart, life for our family would never be quite the same. There is a patch that covers our physical and psychological wounds. There is stitching that holds it together. Sometimes the stitching is pristine, in other places it is knotted with fear and anger. But we are functional. And achingly, imperfectly beautiful. 

We are still mending. A well-rubbed piece of cloth will, eventually, break down. When it does, we take up a needle and thread and piece it together any way we can. In my family, the cloth is often made threadbare by sibling bickering, hidden scary medical memories, and parental stress. But it can always be mended. Re-covered. Made functional. Unique.

At some point, perhaps when that subtle shift occurred and my toddler started to spend long stretches playing with her dollhouse, a few minutes opened up in my days. I wanted to make her clothes as a gift of love. I cut into some soft cloth. She sat on my lap and removed the pins as I sewed. It was slow. But it brought me so much joy. I didn't take pictures of it. I didn't have to market the design. It was just that, a physical manifestation of love. An expression of my creativity and a happy investment of my time. I never want to sew for any other reasons.

Sewing has an important place in my life again, along with writing. But I have a personal manifesto that I now follow.

1. Begin each project with the intention of expressing love and gratitude for the intended recipient, be it my own body or the vibrant bodies of my children.  
2. Breathe deeply while cutting. Breathe deeply while sewing. Sewing is slow, and the act of slowing down is a gift of mindfulness. Accept any interruption in the process as a gift to be present. Find joy in the process, and appreciation for the amount of time it takes.
3. Buy less. Make what you need, but not more.  When clothing wears down, mend it. Bring a mindset of minimalism to the fiber arts.
4. Sewing is an act of self-care. It is not selfish. It is practice of mindfulness mendfulness. I sew because it helps me on my journey to be a more aware, loving mother and creative person. 

If I returned to my old way of sewing - the resentment, the oppressive to-make list, the feeling of being squeezed for creative time, I would need to stop and reassess. My time with these three little children is too short. With this healthier creative mindset, I hope to mend together my creative nature with parenthood.  

I made these Rainbow Shorts for Lachlan using the Basic Pocket Pants pattern in my book, using Kaffe Fasset's Exotic Stripe in the Earth colorway.  It took me two weeks to sew them - a seam here, a seam there. He helped me. So did Sadie. He is clothed with love. 

MamatoMama.org, a new craftivism website launched by Soulemama, provides an easy way to connect crafters with communities in need.  From Mama to Mama: