Creating an Elemental Vest

 So just how long does it take to make slow fashion? From concept to finished piece, it can take as long as a year or more. In the case of my Elemental Vest, it took nine months from the time I rust dyed a piece of cloth, decided what to do with that cloth, and then made it happen.

Last summer I experimented with rust dyeing various fabric remnants. The photo below shows a few examples. The large round halo print was made on a piece of cotton sheeting with a rusty old stove burner cover. I thought this print would be an interesting design element on a garment, but I didn't have anything particular in mind.

Several months later, I got the urge to make a vest for winter, which I did, using wool. It struck me that the rusty halo print would be ideal to place on half of a vest front. The idea began to percolate. I knew I'd need more fabric to piece an entire vest together. Indigo blue and rusty orange are some of my favorite color pairings, so I rummaged through my stash of salvaged chambray shirts. Whatever fabric I chose would have to be a similar light weight as the rust-printed cotton sheeting. I pulled out the remains of an old shirt that was shibori-dyed with indigo. The cloth was shredded and frayed in many areas, but that didn't matter. In fact, those shreds had become almost chenille-like over time and I liked that textural element. 

Much auditioning of indigo scraps followed until I had the right-sized pieces to form the top sections of the vest front.

For the other half of the vest front, I used a piece of cotton that was printed with a variety of smaller rusty objects, including an old faucet handle. 

My husband looked at the work in progress and suggested that the big space in the center of the rusty halo would look cool with a print of the faucet handle in its center. 

What a brilliant guy he is! I just happened to have a scrap of cotton sheeting available, so I made a little faucet handle print and appliqued it to the center of the halo, echoing the same faucet print on the other half of the vest.

Now the real labor of love commenced. I began adding free-form embroidery stitching to the printed shapes for extra definition. 

I also added sashiko running stitches over the areas of shredded indigo cloth to secure the threads and prevent further fraying.

At last I had the two front halves pieced, stitched, and ready to join to the back.

You can barely see the outline of where pockets used to be located on that shredded indigo-dyed shirt. (I saved those for some other purpose). Since the front of this vest has so much going on, I opted for a plain piece of solid cotton muslin for the vest back. But just for fun, I used that same rusty faucet handle to create a print on a small scrap of the indigo-dyed cloth, and appliqued this printed patch to the center back of the vest.

The project came together nicely. I designed the vest to be loose-fitting and boxy, but also added drawstring casings at the shoulders to create soft gathers. The drawstrings were made from strips of the indigo-dyed shirt plackets.

Designing a garment with upcycled materials demands patience and plenty of planning. Rarely does a piece of work turn out exactly as envisioned. The Elemental Vest began simply from my desire to use that rusty halo print. Little did I expect the process to be so involved. But the final result was so worthwhile. I know I will never replicate this vest with exactly the same materials and details. That uniqueness makes it pretty special.

To see more of my work and find out what's new in my shop, follow me on 

Instagram @joaquinadesigns.  Thank you, and happy Earth Day!

How To Rescue a Holy Scarf

 My dear friend, Lynn, gave me this antique lambswool scarf many years ago. It had more than a few moth holes, and she didn't want it any longer. "I know you can do something with it", she told me. But I didn't do anything with it at all. At least, not immediately. This beautiful scarf, ornately hand-embroidered with silk threads, languished in my textile collection, waiting for something to be done with it. 

With the press of the holidays behind me now, I've been busy reorganizing my work studio. I came across the lambswool scarf and a pang of guilt hit me. "I should do something with this", I thought. But there were those holes, so many infernal holes. Maybe I could incorporate pieces of the scarf into another project, perhaps a textile collage? Then my focus was drawn to the exquisite, intricately stitched embroidery. Countless hours of highly skilled effort produced those elegant designs nearly a century ago. It seemed criminal to cut up this lovely piece of textile history. My thoughts shifted to how I could repair the damaged areas of the scarf and restore it to its original function.

I've mended many pairs of wool socks and chunky sweaters. But the fineness of this lambswool was another matter altogether. After consulting with the knowledgeable folks at Pacific Northwest Fibershed, I developed a mending strategy. First of all, I learned that lambswool, once popular for luxury goods in the early to mid twentieth century, is no longer easily sourced. Very fine alpaca roving was recommended as a suitable substitute. Fortunately I found a bit of cream colored alpaca roving at a local fiber shop. I was advised to felt the roving into the voids of the lambswool. This required the construction of a thread matrix, something that the roving could attach itself to in the felting process. 

Out came my silk threads and the finest embroidery needle I had. I gently stitched a grid over each hole in the scarf. Patience, patience, patience! Now for the roving. I pulled narrow strands of the alpaca fibers and rolled them into a very small wad, then ever so carefully, plunged my narrowest felting needle down into the roving and through the stitched grid, over and over. It was a delicate process and I'm sure I held my breath while working the first hole. To my relief, the results of the first mend looked pretty good. Encouraged, I continued the process.

After all the mending was finished, I washed the scarf by hand and air dried it. Evidence of my repair job is scarcely noticeable! It gives me great pleasure to have restored this scarf to usefulness. The lambswool is unbelievably soft and warm, and the lustrous embroidery elicits admiring comments. I hope my scarf project will convince you to consider salvaging a garment in need of some TLC rather than tossing it out. By the way Lynn, if you read this, no you don't get the scarf back. It's mine for keeps!

An Ethnic Textile Love Story: Conclusion

 During the two weeks that Juanita lived under her grandparents' roof in El Paso, she came to know this branch of her family tree more intimately. When not sitting at his desk reading, her grandfather Martin shuffled quietly about the house, always smiling, always deferring to the wishes of his wife. Grandmother Joaquina could be quite demanding at times. She insisted that Gloria and Juanita accompany her to Mass every morning. The church was over two miles from the house, and they walked that distance, departing at 7:00 AM dressed in modestly long skirts and long sleeved blouses, gloves, and mantillas covering their heads. By the time they returned to the house for breakfast, it was already approaching ninety sweltering degrees outdoors. 

Gloria's baby would be born in January. To prepare for baby's arrival, Joaquina had the girls work on making a layette. In that brief time spent with her grandmother, Juanita learned how to crochet a baby blanket, how to make needle-turned lace, and how to smock a christening gown. She also learned how to "properly" clean and iron linens. "These skills", Joaquina told the girls, "are essential for all young women of good breeding to have." Joaquina was not one to dole out praise easily. But she recognized in her granddaughter Juanita an ability to learn quickly, and a true desire to do things well.

One afternoon while Juanita, Gloria, and Joaquina sat in the shade of the back veranda, stitching tiny garments, Juanita caught her grandmother staring at her intently. Joaquina held a closed fan in her hand and pointed it at the baby socks Juanita was embroidering. "A ver", Joaquina ordered, holding out her hand. Made nervous by what was sure to be a critical inspection, Juanita passed the socks to her grandmother. Joaquina turned the tiny socks in her hands, closely studying the stitching. Then she handed the socks back to Juanita. "Muy bien", Joaquina said tersely, then added, "como el bordado de tu madre".    Like your mother's embroidery? This praise was the highest compliment Juanita could ever have imagined, for her work to be comparable to her mother's! She looked at her cousin. Gloria smiled at Juanita and nodded her head to validate what Juanita had just heard. 

Juanita replied, "Gracias, Abuela," but before she could say anymore, Joaquina snapped her fan open and began to wave the thing against her neck with furious energy. 

   "Tanto calor!" Joaquina exclaimed. She looked at Juanita and said, "Siga, hija." Continue stitching.

Juanita realized in that moment that she was participating in a ritual. What she learned and experienced was more than mere stitching. She was gaining a sense of connection and identity through the simple acts of making garments alongside her grandmother and cousin. In her grandmother, Juanita found a curious mix of severity tempered with compassion. Although Joaquina was indeed a task mistress, she was also a generous teacher who believed in the importance of passing her knowledge to the younger generation.

Juanita's visit in El Paso sped by quickly. The day before departing for California, she mustered the courage to ask her grandparents if she could take a few of the handwoven textiles in the attic home with her. "Why do you want those old rags?' Joaquina brushed a dismissive hand against the small rug and brightly colored rebozos Juanita showed to them. 

Juanita searched for the words to explain her keen desire. "I think these are beautiful". Almost in a whisper, she added, "They remind me of my mother." 

Grandfather Martin chimed in, one of the rare occasions when he expressed an opinion. "What are we going to do with them? They've been up in the attic, unused for years. My mother and sisters loomed those things with their own hands. It's good that hija Juanita appreciates them."

Joaquina's frown softened and she looked away, staring into space, as if seeing something in the distance. After a silent moment she turned to Juanita and sighed, "Pues bien. Tomalos." Fine. Take them.

"Gracias, Abuela! Gracias!"  Juanita hugged her grandmother, then hugged her grandfather. Martin smiled and winked at her.

Gloria hated to see Juanita leave. "As soon as Roland  gets stationed in California, we will come to see you. I want you to be my baby's comadre!" 

Juanita went to El Paso not knowing what to expect, longing for memories she didn't have, yearning for an ancestral connection to her mother. In her grandparents' home she found a juxtaposition of the raw and the refined, earthiness and pretentiousness. Above all she found that familial connection that she'd always wanted, and a history of textile making that preceded her mother by many generations. Juanita was never able to return to El Paso before her grandparents passed away. But those precious handwoven textiles and her newly acquired stitching skills endured throughout her lifetime. They proved to be not only her heritage, but also her legacy when she in turn, passed those skills and stories down to her own daughter.

Now my patient readers, you know the story of Joaquina Design Studio. Every garment, every handbag, every piece of textile work made by Joaquina Designs is an act of love, abiding respect, and honor for all the generations of women who have come before me. I am grateful to each one of them. "Gracias, Abuela! Gracias!" 

#textilestories #ethnictextilelovestory 

Instagram: @joaquinadesigns  

An Ethnic Textile Love Story: Part Five

 It took courage to contact her grandparents out of the blue, having never met them or corresponded with them before. Juanita didn't even know if they were aware of her existence. But she wrote to them and hoped they could read english. Fortunately, a cousin close in age to Juanita - her name was Gloria - lived with her grandparents and answered Juanita's letter. Juanita learned that her grandfather, Martin, had been ill, but her grandmother, Joaquina, seemed keen to meet her and invited Juanita to visit them. 

The train trip from California to El Paso, Texas was brutally long and hot. Even though Juanita traveled in September , the heat bore down like a hot iron on her body. The further south the train rode, the greater the humidity grew, and so did Juanita's trepidation. How would she be received? 

After two days and two nights, the train reached El Paso. From the station Juanita took a taxi cab to the address of her grandparents' home. "Are you sure this is the right place?" she asked the cab driver.

    "Yup", the driver replied, pulling Juanita's suitcase from the cab.

It wasn't what she expected. She had envisioned some sort of Spanish-style hacienda with multiple stories and balconies dripping with flowering vines. Instead, she was confronted with a single story  dwelling, plain, with a barren front yard surrounded by a low iron rail fence. A gate opened onto a walkway that led to a wide porch. All of the house windows were covered with closed curtains. The place seemed very quiet, as if uninhabited. Juanita paid the cab driver and he promptly departed. 

A curtain over the window in the front door parted slightly and a face peered out at her. The door opened, creaking, and a heavy set woman with silver hair pinned up in a chignon called out, "Quien eres?" (Who are you?")

"I'm Juanita...from California". For a moment Juanita thought they'd forgotten she was coming. She hastily added, "I'm Mercedes' daughter". She stood still as a post, gripping her purse with both hands. A bead of sweat ran from her temple to her chin. The woman looked Juanita up and down, then settled her piercing eyes on Juanita's face. She turned and uttered to someone inside. Juanita could just make out the words, "La hija de Mercedes." The woman turned her face back to Juanita, nodded her head, and waved Juanita toward the door.

The interior of the house was like a small museum, cool, dark, immaculate, and full of stiff, formal furniture. People emerged from all parts of the house to greet her: two uncles, one aunt, her cousin, Gloria, who was just seventeen years old and pregnant, and her grandfather, Martin, a sweet-faced, soft-spoken man of short stature who was the complete opposite of his imposing wife, Joaquina. In her ankle-length, floral print dress and pearl earrings, Joaquina had a regal air about her. Everyone there spoke english except for Joaquina, who immediately criticized Juanita's "American" spanish. But Joaquina was eager to learn about Juanita and all her siblings. Juanita communicated in her halting spanish, telling the story of her mother's life and death, and how all her siblings now lived their lives. In hearing the details of their daughter's death, Martin buried his face in his hands and wiped tears from his eyes. Joaquina's response was to shake her head and sigh, "Que lastima. Que tragedio."

During her two-week visit, Juanita shared a bedroom with her cousin, Gloria. The two became fast friends, gossiping and laughing together. One night, sitting up in bed chatting, Gloria confided that she'd been sent to live with their grandparents while her husband completed his stint in the army. "I got pregnant before we were married. My parents said I should live with abuelo and abuela . That way no one where I come from will know". Gloria lowered her eyes and pulled the fringed shawl she wore tightly around herself. 

Juanita patted her cousin's hand and told her, "It's no shame. You're married now." Juanita touched the soft fringes of Gloria's shawl. "This is so pretty. I love the bright colors in it". 

"Oh, this." Gloria shrugged. "It's one of those old rebozos that abuelo Martin's mother used to make. I wear it just to cover up my big belly." Gloria giggled. 

"You mean our great grandmother made this? " Juanita drew in her breath and tugged on the shawl to examine it closely. Its intricate pattern was woven in brilliant hues of blue, pink, green, and cream. Juanita tried to imagine the clever hands that produced such a glorious cotton garment. She recalled the woven blanket her mother used to wrap herself in against the cold Oregon winters. "Are there any more of these around?"

"Sure. Up in the attic. Abuela Joaquina calls them peasant cloths. She put them away in a trunk."

"I want to see them!" Juanita couldn't contain her curiosity. 

Coming next, the conclusion of this Ethnic Textile Love Story 

#storythreads #ethnictextilelovestory

Joaquina Design Studio on Instagram : @joaquinadesigns

"

An Ethnic Textile Love Story: Part Four

 By 1942, the world was consumed in war. Juanita was sixteen, and took a job as a live-in nanny for an affluent family in the Oakland hills. She attended high school every day, and after school she babysat the couple's two young children. Her younger brother and sister were sent to live in the house hold of their eldest sister, Angela, in Stockton, California. This arrangement served Juanita well enough. When she graduated high school at age 17, she was hired by the Southern Pacific Railroad Company to work in the ticket office of their Stockton depot. Now Juanita was able to support herself and live independently, while also being near her siblings and young nieces and nephews. 

During a visit to the home of her elder sister, Juanita noticed a pair of framed photos on a shelf. One of the photos depicted a stately gentleman dressed in a formal suit with waistcoat and a bow tie. He sat in an ornate parlor chair and held a book in his hand. The other photo was of a fair-skinned woman with fine features. She wore an elegant dress in a fashion popular in the 1920s. A large-brimmed hat adorned with feathers and flowers crowned her head. The woman posed beside a velvet-curtained doorway. An  ornately beaded handbag hung from her wrist. 

     "Who are these people?" Juanita asked.

     "They are our grandparents," Angela informed her in a matter-of-fact tone. Juanita was incredulous to hear this. Never had either her father or mother made mention of their parents. She always assumed they were dead. 

     "They are Mama's parents. They live somewhere in Texas," Angela added. 

     "Where did you get these pictures? 

     "Mama gave them to me when I got married. She thought that maybe someday I might write to them. But I never did. Read what's written on the back sides."

Written in a beautiful cursive script on the back of the gentleman's photo was a brief note: "To my dear daughter, her husband, and family, I say this humbly. Remember me." The note was signed, "Martin Negrete, June 21, 1928, El Paso, Texas." The back of the woman's photo was dated November 1927 and was addressed to Mrs. Mercedes N. de Rosales and family. It read: "My dear daughter, receive this humble memory so you know who is fond of you, and don't forget your mother." This note was signed by Joaquina A. de Negrete. Both notes were written in Spanish. 

     "Why didn't Mama ever tell us about her parents?"

     "Because they weren't on speaking terms." Angela proceeded to tell Juanita about their grandmother disowning their mother for marrying their father. "I guess our grandmother eventually forgave Mama and tried to make up with her. Too bad Mama never had the chance to see them again before she died."

How heartbreaking for poor Mama, Juanita thought. To be estranged from her parents for so long; it must have hurt Mama deeply! Juanita would have given anything to be able to see her Mama again. But even though that was impossible now, there was no reason why she couldn't try to contact her grandparents. She made a plan. Within six months, she had saved enough money to purchase a round-trip train ticket from Stockton, California to El Paso, Texas. Juanita fully intended to meet Martin and Joaquina Negrete. 

#storythreads #ethnictextilelovestory 

The next installment of this story will come soon. 

See Joaquina Design Studio on Instagram @joaquinadesigns

An Ethnic Textile Love Story, Part Three

Late July is upon us. It's much too hot to do anything remotely strenuous, but it's a good time to take it easy and maybe do a little reading. With that in mind, we pick up our story where we left off.                

 The era of the Great Depression was precarious at best, but especially for the common laborers, like Jess. Toward the end of the 1930s, he lost his job with the railroad. For a time, Jess worked as a farm laborer and the family lived in a labor camp. It was in the camp that Jess learned of the many better opportunities to be had in California. So, despite Mercedes' objections, he sold her sewing machine and used the proceeds to buy a dilapidated Ford Model T. He packed Mercedes and the six youngest of their children into the car and left Oregon for California. The three oldest of their children had already flown the nest. They drove along Highway 101, the coastal route. Mercedes had never seen the ocean before, and her first glimpse of the mighty Pacific terrified her - such a vast and powerful expanse!

When the family reached San Francisco, Jess quickly found employment in a cannery. The family settled into a small house in South San Francisco, which at that time was a rural area comprised of farms. Jess made enough money to buy a second hand sewing machine for Mercedes, and she again set to work making clothing for their growing children. Mercedes never displayed much emotion or affection. She seldom hugged or fussed over her children. Instead, she poured her love into the garments she painstakingly sewed for each of them. 

The eldest girls in the family took a passing interest in sewing, learning the minimum skills required to repair worn clothing. But the third youngest daughter, Juanita, was fascinated by the process of how her mother constructed clothes.She sat for hours beside Mercedes, watching, learning, and begging her mother to let her operate the treadle machine. Exasperated, Mercedes eventually gave in to Juanita's pleas just to stop the girl from pestering her. Juanita proved to be an apt pupil, and at age ten, sewed her first garment, a simple cotton pinafore. Juanita dreamed of making all sorts of pretty things, like the dresses movie stars wore. 

But Juanita's dreams came to an abrupt and tragic end. Before she had turned eleven years old, Juanita witnessed her mother fall ill with tuberculosis and die. The doctor told Jess that Mercedes had most likely contracted the fatal disease in the labor camp. Some of the children in the family were also infected. Juanita's elder sister, Lola, died within months of their mother's death. 

Stripped of Mercedes' steadying influence, Jess drowned his grief in alcohol. He neglected his children to a point of near abandonment. School authorities took notice and, without protest from Jess, removed the youngest children from the house and placed them in foster care. Juanita, her brother Frank, and youngest sister, Lupe, all went to live with an Italian family who raised produce in South San Francisco. Juanita's pinafore, and all the lace embellished clothing her mother had made for her were disposed of by the farmer's wife, who deemed them unsuitable for work chores. Juanita wondered who, if anyone, would ever clothe and love her like her mother had. 

Part Four of An Ethnic Textile Love Story to come. 

#sewnwithlove #storythreads #vintagetextiles #joaquinadesigns #joaquinadesignstudio 

An Ethnic Textile Love Story: Part Two

 It's taken a few months to pick up this story where we left off, but now that the transition to the new year is complete, the time has come to continue this story.

My great grandmother, Joaquina, and great grandfather, Manuel, despite the struggles of the World War I era, made a good life for themselves in El Paso. They raised a family of two sons and one daughter, Mercedes. She was a lovely girl with her mother's  fair skin and her father's jet black hair. Joaquina made certain that her daughter was raised properly, as a fine lady should be, so she could maintain a good standing in El Paso's small, high society. Mercedes learned all the skills that a young lady of the day was expected to know, including sewing, embroidery, tatting, and lace making. 

But, as more often occurs than not, Mercedes didn't follow her mother's plan to marry a gentleman of good family and fortune. Instead, Mercedes met and fell in love with a rogue from Mexico named Jesus. "Jess" as he was known, was a handsome young man with huge, doe-like eyes that held a wildness within them. When Mercedes' parents discovered this illicit relationship with Jess, they forbid her from associating with the "peasant" (as Joaquina referred to him), ever again. "Men like him will only break your heart", Joaquina warned her daughter. Mercedes, certain that she knew better than her mother, ignored the warning and eloped with Jess one night. The two lovers commenced an itinerant life, following the railroads to the Pacific Northwest where Jess made a living cutting railroad ties. Joaquina disowned her daughter and severed all communication with Mercedes. 

With no one but her capricious, heavy-drinking husband to rely on, Mercedes felt alone and fearful, entering a world of the unknown. The only things she carried with her, other than her clothes, shoes, and rosary, were her sewing kit, and a woven wool saltillo that she had pulled from a trunk in the attic of her family home. 

Babies quickly followed. Mercedes' first child - a son - was born in Nampa, Idaho. Next came a daughter, born in Yakima, Washington. Then, other daughters, and one more son; nine children in all, born across the Pacific Northwest. The life of a railroad worker was tough, the pay very poor. Jess housed his family in shacks owned by the O and C Railroad Company. They never stayed in one town more than a year. Jess provided enough to keep his family fed, but little more. Had he not such a penchant for drinking, there might have been money for clothes and shoes. As it was, Mercedes made do, fitting clothing for her children from other people's cast-offs. She used flour sacks softened in lime water to sew nightgowns and underwear for the girls, embellishing the hems and necklines with her finely crocheted lace. So lovely were these humble garments, that people would steal them right off the family's clothesline. 

Mercedes seldom sewed anything for herself. She simply continued to patch and mend the dresses she left home with so many years ago. She didn't even own a coat. In the cold weather, Mercedes wrapped herself in the woven wool saltillo that she had taken from the trunk in the attic. That blanket was her sole connection to the life she'd once known, a life she had forsaken to become the wife of a wandering rogue. 

Part three of this story to come soon.

#ethnictextilelovestory  #ethnictextiles #vintagetextiles #saltillo #textilehistory #joaquinadesigns #joaquinadesignstudio 

An Ethnic Textile Love Story: Part One

 Now that Dia de Muertos is upon us, Joaquina is compelled to bring out a bag that evokes a sense of heritage. This Serape Stripe wool crossbody bag pays homage to Joaquina's ancestors and the diaspora of Native Americans, their culture, arts, and crafts. You may have wondered about the name of our brand, Joaquina. A little backstory needs telling here. 

Joaquina is the name of my great-grandmother, a fashionista of the 1920s era. She was European born and raised, had a keen sense for style, and was an excellent seamstress. Over one hundred years ago, an earnest and hard-working Texas construction contractor of mestizo origins, Manuel, traveled to Spain. There he met, fell in love with, and married a beautiful young woman - Joaquina. He brought his bride home to El Paso to establish their home and family. But all was not marital bliss. You see, Joaquina disapproved of what she considered to be the rather crude and rustic living conditions of the Texas border town. 

As Manuel was such a successful businessman, Joaquina anticipated a lifestyle that she was accustomed to: one of gracious elegance; one of satin upholstered sofas and lace curtains. To her dismay, most of the people in El Paso at that time lived in earthen "casitas" with chickens clucking about in their front yards! Joaquina deemed all of it to be quite unsatisfactory. It soon became apparent that Joaquina would have to travel to Houston or Dallas - long journeys in those days - to obtain suitable draperies, cushions, and other home goods, or she must make them for herself. A pipeline of European silks, damasks, and linens soon ensued. Joaquina's mother shipped from Spain to Texas all the dry goods Joaquina required to properly decorate her new home. The coarse, woven wool saltillos and serapes that Manuel had used as tablecloths and furniture throws were relegated to the bottom of trunks, out of sight, out of mind. 

Manuel found his wife's behavior and attitude to be somewhat snobbish. After all, his mother and aunts had woven those woolens with their very own hands. But, being the good husband that he was, and far too busy to involve himself with interior decorating, Manuel gave Joaquina free reign on matters of homemaking. Those woolen runners and blankets remained in exile until they were exhumed many decades later by an intrepid young descendant. More on that part of the story is to come. 

For now, it's gratifying to know that Pendleton Woolen Mills is keeping alive the spirit and sensibility of  native textiles. The Serape crossbody bag is made from a remnant of vintage Pendleton wool.  The fabric brings to mind the look and feel of the traditional serapes woven by the Mestizo women of Mexico. Utilitarian in nature, those textiles were meant to work hard and last a long time, just as this crossbody bag is meant to do.

 Measuring 8.5 in by 10 in, with a 42 in poly rope strap. Magnetic closure. Flap is embellished with a stamped metal concho. Lined in light blue chambray cotton with one interior pocket. Available.      Message Joaquina Design Studio for details. Payments processed through PayPal. You can also purchase Joaquina's work here: https:www.joaquinadesign.com

#crossbodybag, #ethnictextile #pendletonwool #vintagetextile #serape #handmade #sustainablefashion

Shibori Summer

 What better time than summer to get into a shibori mood. That's exactly what Joaquina has been busily creating - shibori fashions and accessories in the bold, vibrant colors of summer. Shibori, for those unfamiliar with the term, is a method of dyeing fabric based on traditional Japanese resist techniques that create amazing designs and textures. It's one of Joaquina's favorite textile treatments, and we'll use shibori on just about anything: scarves, jeans, blouses, handbags, underwear, even socks! 

This cotton tank was dyed using a fold and clamp technique to create a sekka pattern. The totebag pictured to the right was made from upcycled canvas that we dyed using stitch resist.  Shibori is great fun and results in beautiful, unique art-to-wear. Hand-dyed garments should always be washed in cool water with a mild detergent.

These and other shibori fashions can be purchased directly from Joaquina Design Studio at joaquinadesignstudio.bigcartel.com 

     #shibori  #hand-dyed  #art-to-wear

Prayer Flags for a New Year of Hope

 In Tibetan tradition, flags inscribed with sacred images and phrases are flown outside houses, commercial buildings, or in public places. It is believed that the wind activates the prayers and messages written upon the flags, and carries those thoughts all over the world. Often prayer flags are inscribed with the names of loved ones who have died. The flags are intended to become weathered, tattered, and faded, signifying the ephemeral nature of all life. 

As this year of the Covid Pandemic comes to a close, it seemed appropriate to make a few prayer flags to commemorate some of the phenomenal events of 2020, and to send out hopeful intentions for the entering new year. Pictured are some of those flags Joaquina made, and the themes each represents: enlightenment for those who dwell in darkness; justice for those who endure racism and bigotry; grace and peace for those who have lost loved ones to the Covid 19 virus; radical empathy for the victims of the catastrophic wildfires of the western United States and for all victims of climate change.

These are but a few of the many urgent issues our world must contend with now. The losses of 2020 have been profound. But in acknowledging our weaknesses, our mistakes, we can learn. We can still choose to make a better world going forward if it is in our hearts and minds to do so. Wishing you a brighter, hopeful new year. 

Peacock Embroidery: a Restoration Story

Last summer Joaquina discovered a much faded grain sack at a barn sale in southern Oregon. Despite the advanced fading of the graphics, the intricacy of the beautiful peacock image was evident. Created in the early twentieth century, when great attention was given to logos and advertising images, even on mundane objects such as this, the grain sack begged to be restored to some degree of purpose. Thus was the inspiration for a project that called for embroidery stitching to bring the original printed image and lettering on the grain sack back to life. 

Whenever working with vintage textiles, care must be taken to preserve the fabric. In this case, the weave of the grain sack, which is made of thin muslin, is very fragile. The intricacy of the peacock design and the fragility of the muslin necessitated the use of single strand embroidery floss and a fine needle. Thread colors were chosen to match the colors of the original printed graphics. 

The #slowstitching process required over 36 hours to complete. Then came the extra embellishments: couched ric-rak, a large peacock feather applique, and a ruched strip along the bottom border. The entire piece was attached to a shibori-dyed background. Tiny holes in the grain sack are a testament to the age of the textile and were left unadorned. 

From its humble, utilitarian inception, to an abandoned fate in a barn, this simple grain sack has now become art. Transformation. That's what upcycling is all about. 

Textile Portrait of a Little Saint

Jacinta Marto was one of three shepherd children to whom the Virgin Mary appeared in three apparitions beginning on March 13, 1917, in the fields near Fatima, Portugal. At the time of these apparitions, Europe was devastated by the ravages of World War I, and the Spanish Influenza Pandemic was poised to grip the global population. Mary asked these children to pray the rosary in order to bring peace to the world, and to urge all people to turn away from conflict and seek God.
With a spiritual maturity far beyond her years, little Jacinta demonstrated extreme piety and a deep conviction for the need to save a sinful world through her penance and sacrifice.

Both Jacinta and her brother, Francisco, were victims of the Spanish influenza. Jacinta lingered a year beyond her brother's death. She told of another apparition of Mary in which the Virgin came to her bedside and gave Jacinta the opportunity to live an additional year of suffering for the sake of converting sinners. She bravely accepted the opportunity, and its consequences. In February 1920, Jacinta developed purulent pleurisy. She endured an operation in which two of her ribs were removed. Due to the condition of her young heart, she could not be fully anesthetized. She suffered terrible pain, which she considered an offering. One month later, at the age of nine, Jacinta died.

Jacinta was canonized in 2017. She is the patron saint of sick people, captives, and Portuguese children. This textile portrait by Joaquina Designs pays homage to the spirit of a faithful child who found blessing in her illness, and displayed remarkable courage and altruism. One cannot help but hope and pray that Saint Jacinta now intercedes on behalf of a world enduring this current Corona virus pandemic. May our faith and courage bring us all the way through it.

A Collage of Visible Mending

Joaquina takes visible mending to a new level. The #handstitching in the jeans you see here is a study in textural contrasts. Each component in the mending becomes part of a collage. Whether in the rise of running stitches, or the slight fringe of an appliqued patch, each element brings a different tactile sensation to the wearer. At some point in the process, creating a mending collage becomes more than an act of merely extending the life of a garment, which in and of itself is a worthy thing to do. A mending collage becomes something greater than the sum of its parts. These jeans bring to mind a line from Eric Clapton's classic, Bell Bottom Blues: "I don't wanna fade away..." With this degree of mending, these jeans will never fade away. They'll become a piece of wearable art. Immortalize your own favorite garments with custom stitching. #Visiblemending. Make do. Make it last. Make art!

Joaquina Design Studio believes in building sustainable wardrobes stitch by beautiful stitch.

Day of the Dead; In Remembrance

Dia de los Muertos, or "Day of the Dead", is a traditional celebration in Latin America whereby #sugarskulls are used to honor family ancestors. Sugar skulls are edible confections that are placed on altars as offerings to the deceased. They may also be given to the living as tokens of esteem. Artisans decorate the sugar skulls with brightly colored icing and embellishments. Rather than the frightfulness of a Halloween skeleton, sugar skulls are endearing or even humorous creations. Many are customized with specific details that represent characteristics of the deceased person being honored.

In homage to the spirit of #DiadelosMuertos, Joaquina Design Studio has produced a rendition of a sugar skull in the form of a textile wall hanging. This particular sugar skull bears symbols of one who loved family, cigars, and women (note the lipstick kiss on the brow!). Day of the Dead is celebrated on Nov. 2nd., and it's not strictly for Latin Americans. Anyone can partake in this folk tradition to commemorate meaningful people, both the living and those who have passed on.

Fashion Revolution Week: Choose Well

#WhoMadeMyClothes, the call to action of this week's global Fashion Revolution celebration, is the question that represents a movement toward building sustainable wardrobes. This fashion revolution concept encourages the thoughtful choices of clothing, shoes, and accessories that are produced in a manner that is environmentally responsible. When making an investment in any fashion item, consider choosing items that are not only created by fair market means, but are also produced with eco-friendly practices. Garments that are durable, classic in styling, and beautiful, can be worn indefinitely, given proper care. Items made of vintage and/or reclaimed textiles are especially appropriate for the #FashRev ethic. Choosing well as a consumer brings long-term economic benefits and preserves precious resources; a win-win for consumers and our fragile planet. Joaquina Design Studio has always been on board the sustainability platform and welcomes all makers and designers to join the #FashionRevolution now!

St. Brigid of Kildare Welcomes Spring

Saint Patrick is celebrated around the world each March 17, but in Ireland, Saint Brigid, who is held in equally high regard, predates Patrick by centuries. In fact, St. Brigid is credited with easing the conversion of the Celts to Christianity. St. Brigid is the patron saint of poetry, springtime, and fertility. Her feast day is celebrated on February 1, a day associated with the ancient Celtic festival of Imbolc, heralding the return of spring.

Displaying her devotion to God and an altruistic nature from an early age, legend has it that Brigid, who was born into an affluent family, readily gave away her father's milk, butter, and meat to the needy. Her father attempted to arrange Brigid's marriage to the King of Leinster. But the attempt was thwarted by Brigid's donation of her father's bejeweled sword to a passing leper. King Leinster, having reservations about marriage to this rebellious and overly-generous young woman, agreed to allow Brigid to become a nun. When Brigid pressed the king to give her a piece of land upon which she could establish a monastery, the king told Brigid she could have a property in Kildare, the size to be equal to the spread of her cape. Brigid laid her cape upon the ground, and legend has it that her cape miraculously spread out and continued to spread until it covered a great acreage. She built her monastery for both monks and nuns, and this holy community promoted education, healing of the sick, and serving the needs of the poor.

A perpetual flame burns in Kildare to honor Saint Brigid. She continues to be a revered figure, exemplifying courage, wisdom, and the determination to follow one's heart. Inspired by the story of Saint Brigid, Joaquina created a #handstitched fabric collage depicting Brigid surrounded in spring's emerging flora. This March 17, when you raise a toast to St. Patty, don't forget the equally deserving Saint Brigid. Her spirit represents the season of renewal and the return of light to a dark, cold world.

Maxi Dressing for Summer

Some like it hot. Dahlias and zucchini thrive in the heat. But when the mercury tops ninety degrees here in Oregon, a bit of relief is in order. During the hottest of summer days, nothing is more comfortable than a breezy sundress. Feel the tropical spirit in Joaquina's batik maxidress. Made of soft, 100% cotton for airy breathability, this long, colorful frock with bursts of fuchsia, violet, aqua, teal, and a dab of marigold is like the sunset on a Caribbean beach.  With an empire-style bodice and a side zipper, our maxi is easy to slip into. You'll stay elegantly cool at a garden party, wedding reception, or any outdoor occasion that calls for glasses of mint juleps. Do you hear ice cubes clinking?

Handbags Filled With Passion

February, a month of bleak skies the color of gunmetal, is briefly and happily interrupted each year with a day that sets hearts aflame and temporarily thaws winter's icy grip. What is it that stirs so many to make sentimental Valentine displays? Affection, desire, love? Certainly all of these emotions, as well as friendship and romance are celebrated on Valentine's Day. Perhaps we also find reason to celebrate the lengthening daylight and the hope that the worst of winter's harshness is behind us. Or maybe, Valentine's Day simply gives us the impetus, the boldness to declare what is the object of our passion.

Joaquina Design Studio is passionate about red ... the saturated hue found in pomegranates, roses, and cinnamon red hots. So when we acquired a precious cache of vintage scarlet suede remnants from a coat factory, we grew dizzy with ideas! It didn't take us long to turn out some of our sweetest handbags to date. Here we share with you a couple of those: the Winter Rose messenger bag, and the Red Blossom saddle bag. Distinguished by a black leather rose nestled into felted wool leaves on the front flap, the Winter Rose bag looks fabulous with an elegant lace blouse or a simple silk sheath. The Red Blossom saddle bag, with its suede petaled flower, sports an iridescent vintage button on the center closure. Pair it with jeans for the hippest of retro looks. The skins of these suede bags have a velvety soft hand irresistible to the touch, and easily maintained with gentle brushing. (Use a suede brush made specifically for this purpose).

This Valentine's Day, curl up with the object of your affection and express your passion, whatever color that may be.

Cool Weather Contender

Fall is about beauty, nature, and the elements. This season calls for outerwear that contends with crisp, progressively colder weather. While a good, utilitarian coat or jacket is a wardrobe staple, sometimes you need a garment that expresses a bit more verve, such as a chic cloak. Unable to find the perfect cape, Joaquina designed one of her own. We are all about sumptuous fabrics at Joaquina, so for our Twirl cape, we chose a marvelous vintage Pendleton. This snuggly cape has all the warmth and softness of lanolin-rich, felted virgin wool, plush in texture, but lightweight. The heather gray is a versatile neutral that pairs well with any other colors or patterns. Its graceful drape and practical length make it suitable for day or evening. A large, pearlescent vintage button secures the cape just below the shawl collar. More than just a piece of outerwear, the Twirl cape makes a statement. Wear it with boots for a killer ensemble. Or, like Kimberly, wear it with sassy pink heels!

The Ammo Satchel Makeover

     Several years ago, Joaquina's son, who is a USMC sergeant, was home on leave. She couldn't help but notice the bag he used for his shave kit, which he kept on the bathroom counter. Made of olive drab canvas and fastened with tie strips, the battered bag aroused her curiosity.
     "That looks like military issue," she said.
     "It's actually an old ammo bag," her son explained. "It got too worn out to carry the heavy packs of ammo anymore, so I just recycled it as my ditty bag."  Hmmm...clever idea.
     Later that evening while her son was out with friends, Joaquina did a little reconnaissance. She emptied his "ditty bag" and examined the construction. Then she drew up a pattern, and with a few design tweaks, made her own version of an ammo bag. Of course, Joaquina doesn't usually carry ammunition around, but now and then she does need something rugged for toting heavier loads in the great outdoors, and she wants it to be attractive, too. Thus was born the Joaquina field satchel.
     Made of durable canvas or heavy denim, the field satchel is ideal for carrying books, cameras, art supplies, or what have you. Triple stitched at stress points, and with roomy interior pockets, this is one bag that will hold up to the rigors. As the field satchel owes its existence to military inspiration, fifty percent of the proceeds from the sale of the #JoaquinaFieldSatchel is donated to the Wounded Warrior Project.
     Let's all remember our veterans this Memorial weekend. Give thanks to the men and women who have sacrificed their lives so that we may enjoy our freedoms.