L to R: I Dream of Fashion Polly Bustier, Chocolate Bunny Three Piece Set, Glitch Mode Herringbone Skirt, Wilson Plaid Midi Skirt, 254 4th Street Blouse, White Rabbit Tank, Peach Perfect Drawstring Shorts, Engarde Cardigan, Pleated Chambray Tank, Red Currant Blouse and Skirt, Grayscale Summer Kilt, The Mirage Reversible Knit Top & Skirt (4 combinations), Digital Snake Print Dress
It’s the start of a new project. I select my needle gauge and yarn ball. The time to cast on is here. Time to begin the endless loops of yarn twisting around the knitting needles. Let’s make something out of a static strand.
Knitting as a creative process for me has been something akin to ‘The Curse of Oak Island’. Are they ever going to find the treasure? Am I ever going to be good at this? I know what I want to accomplish. I can see the project in my mind and then it’s a blur. It’s like the stitches take the lead and maniac style they wreak havoc.
When the stitches take the lead, things go awry, why am I wasting my time? It’s been a creative tragedy in the Greek theatrical sense of the word, a project unraveled by Act Three. So, why do I keep trying? I want to succeed like all these other knitters I see on Pinterest and Instagram. They make such cute designs. Knitting your own piece is a lot cheaper. It’s rewarding to see your handiwork not just make the design of the garment but the actual fabric! As a seamstress and creative person, I want to climb this mountain no matter how long it takes so that I can finally taste sweet success.
It’s weird, knitting has been the most frustrating yet fascinating hobby because, unlike sewing, you begin with nothing. It’s a ball of yarn and two sticks, that come together to create shapes based on how you loop the yarn, stitch after stitch. Negative space to positive.
The tantalizing simplicity of knitting sucks me every time, and yet in three years of trying, and countless attempts, I’ve made one garment that I like. One garment came out the way I pictured in my head. That’s a terrible conversion rate if you think about that in terms of football. What would be the point in continuing unless you love playing the game. Because at its core, knitting is an investment in time. If you want to make a project of size and use, like a sweater, it’s a multiple-month commitment if you’re a quick and capable knitter. It is a slow process. Like painstakingly slow for me at times, and repetitive.
Patience is not my strong suit, and so knitting has challenged me. It has frustrated me to my core when I have dropped a stitch and I have to frog (unwind) row after row of work. Hours of progress dissolved from my project in a minute, only to remain in my memory. But when you get it right, as what happens in life when you accomplish a goal you’ve had for a long time, the victory is sweet. Completing a panel of a sweater or a hat without failure, and the project removed from the needles looks like what you imagined in your head – well that is euphoria!
Because of how tricky executing a knitwear project has been for me I get excited even when it sucks. Like this experimental tank I made in 2021.
It’s weird and avant-garde. My lack of understanding of how knitwear stretches and shapes based on needle gauge caused some rolling issues. The tank was not what I expected but also not a disaster. It’s weird being pleased with your own mediocrity. I think that is what is so interesting about this skill-acquiring process. It’s student work, but it’s your student work so there is a sense of pride. I made this thing and it doesn’t fall apart! It also looks like a crop top – woohoo! There’s an accomplishment in finishing, like when you took a terrible class in college and instead of dropping it and starting over you grind for the credits. I guess it is character-building!
It hasn’t all been for naught, I would say it is Yarn – 10, Magz – 7. That’s a decent record. It’s cool to look back at things I’ve learned along the way like this Steeple stitch and see that yes, I am getting better. I love the texture of this piece and hope to remake it someday with the proper sizing and needle gauge. Below there is a ribbed hat with pom-pom, a striped scarf, a rugby stripe hat and matching scarf (not pictured), and a Flying Geese Stitch cardigan coat. It hasn’t been a waste of time even though knitting has made me very frustrated. It’s a nice skill to have.
*Hello there, the following post contains spoilers.*
I was reminded of something this week as I watched the latest episode of The Mandalorian: how life changes. And how those changes shape our current circumstances and then affect how we consume stories. It will then affect why we return to the table to consume the food of the story, how often we return, and why we need the thrill of the escape. It changes how we experience the taste of the tale. But over time our palettes change and our appetites lead us to crave different plots. This I forgot.
I enjoyed the rogue direction of the third season. I know that is not a popular opinion, but watch the Clone Wars series and then you will see the value of this season. The Clone Wars animated series showcases Mandalore as it was, and Bo-Katan Kriese as she was before the purge. It makes a complete song out of little melodies of Mandalore sprinkled in the Star Wars universe. So with that in mind, I came to the table of Season 3, Episode 7 expecting one thing and left the table with indigestion ready to flip the table and walk away.
Because I was looking for something not really found in the Star Wars universe – hope and happiness.
It is not a cozy world and that used to be part of the Star Wars adventure for me. It was a rush to watch the epic struggle between the empire and the rebels, yet after a devastating 2020 and a dangerous beginning to 2021, I experienced a lot of personal adventure and personal loss. I felt a bit like I landed on the wrong side of the battle and lost my sure footing. I have been looking for more wins in what media I consume to escape the reality of life. Simply put, my appetite has been craving cozy and comforting. Stories where good triumphs over evil. Because let’s be honest, after seeing what Russia has done in Ukraine and China in Hong Kong, do we really need more reminders of what the Empire-like structures are capable of? But that is not what Stars Wars is about, I was making it about me and what I want, and I the viewer forgot what cuisine I signed up for.
As a highly sensitive person, I take in the emotion of whatever environment I’m in. I absorb the world like a sponge. This has good and bad connotations. I will empathize with your victories and will feel distraught by the pain of losses. With this in mind, watching the final scenes of “The Spies” was quite a lot for me. I was stuck where I sat and felt the wave of loss wash over me like it was happening in real life. I was so absorbed in the story I was reminded of times I have lost someone unjustly, the times my dad felt ripped from my life and I cried as the final blows came from the Red Guards.
I forgot to watch gently and prepare myself for the Star Wars formula of disrupting families, and the balance of good and evil which means evil never really disappears. In comparison to my study of the Bible in the past few years, I’ve gotten used to and even comfortable remembering that evil never wins and death is defeated. That doesn’t jive with Star Wars. It’s like in the Clone Wars, getting so attached to Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan as a unit. Nothing lasts forever in the Star Wars universe, and so the good will be balanced with the bad. Revenge of the Sith does come and unity is replaced with division.
What was so weird about this experience was that I realized how much I have changed and grown since I began watching The Mandalorian in 2020. In the break between December 2020 and March 2023, I became a different person and my life took a different shape. My wants for my life and my eyes for the world have been transformed by the Word of God and I found myself arguing in my head with the writers of The Mandalorian for their storytelling choices to continue the story arc of loss and suffering for these characters I truly love. But what I was arguing for in my head would not make the tale of Star Wars authentic anymore. It is the way it is for a reason.
But that is the point I was missing, it is a story and not real life, and the loss and suffering are not real. Because it is a story, it is teaching us something, communicating something. I think the key I was missing was that the characters of the Star Wars universe are fighters, they keep going when they are outnumbered.
They fight against the odds and choose to persevere when it doesn’t make sense to keep trying. That is a good thing.
We too easily give up on life when the hard things come. We are too easily discouraged by the fight ahead and do not show up with the heart to continue pressing on. I admire that kind of courage! I desire that kind of strength and perseverance. We are reminded by the story of Star Wars to never lose the rebel spirit and that is what makes the story so good. This is the way.
Do you ever struggle with bad habits when you create? I do. I have the tendency to write from a place of pain or darkness and think the pain will create better art. You know, that tortured artist thing that our cultures celebrate. I get stuck in such a trap of that. I try to follow and write what I know but then if I am going through a day that reminds me of former pain my mind will get bogged down in that creative darkness and make things that I don’t like.
Today, for instance, I spent the morning writing an essay about Prince Zuko that should have worked and instead of writing clear, introspection on his character it became a deep and personal comparison to things I see in my own family dysfunction that are not in line with the vision I have for this blog. I was proud of the piece until I asked my husband to read over it, and I became so embarrassed of the thoughts I had on the page, the emotional tapestry I wove, and that got me thinking are we getting too comfortable with oversharing in our modern age?
Like, if I’m not comfortable discussing such a personal and painful topic with my husband, who is my best friend, why would I think that would be a good piece of writing to share on the internet? It’s bizarre how social media has rewired our brains to view not just pain as art but pain as content. Take for example the popularity of the “Storytime era” on Youtube, making this personal content brought in huge views for creators but exposed the private lives and relationships of these creators to the general public. I’ve seen follow-up videos from such creators where they express regret for revealing so much information and the consequences this had on their relationships.
A friend of mine challenged me to write from a place of joy instead of pain, and I think her words are more profound than I realized. I think we should celebrate joyful, uplifting content as much as we do emotional, heartbreaking content. Learning the art of creating from a healthy place is far more valuable than we give credit to.
But when I stop and think about it, in this broken world and its 24-hour news cycle, I find myself gravitating toward comforting things. So if I choose to seek out calming and uplifting stories, why should default to making content that I would not seek out? It doesn’t make sense. That’s probably why, it’s my bad habit. And why I am struggling to write fiction again.
Because it takes guts to move beyond the habits and the easy, clickbait-style content and make good, useful things that may not receive the same appreciation but are better for the world, in my opinion. That’s not to say I don’t think honest, truth-speaking writing is always going to be comfortable or uplifting, that’s nonsense. Some of the most important pieces of writing are not comfortable reads, they challenge us. What I am saying is, I think my bad habit holds me back from making better art with my words.
Something I realized today after I trashed my draft and saw that I had lost hours of productivity, was that I didn’t lose time or productivity after all. I had written something great but placed the piece in the wrong category in my mind.
For me, I was writing a post that would be shared and would be a useful thing for this blog, but in actuality, it was a helpful piece of journaling for me to get my private thoughts out on the page. Journaling is the right application for those kinds of pieces, it is what I am comfortable with and in writing privately I am not wasting my time. I’m getting thoughts out on the page and clearing my mind for better things. It is refreshing my mind in a creative sense.
Not everything has to be made for a purpose bigger than making it. Not all thoughts have to be shared. Social media platforms encourage us to do that, even reward us, but that is not the whole truth. Sometimes taking the time to meditate and think will produce greater fruit than putting the original thought out on social media.
I can feel how the last ten years have shifted my brain to create differently because of social media, and I’m not sure if it is a good thing. I’m glad I gained the confidence to share at all on these platforms, but I don’t want to be so comfortable that I forget to slow down and consider the thing I am making. I want to make things that matter, regardless of how well they may or may not perform.
Dear reader, what do you think? Do you agree with my thoughts on my creative bad habit? Do you have any bad habits of your own? Thanks for spending time with me today. I wish you happy and healthy creating!
I was looking for an image on Unsplash, something that would represent such a special lady. We had such a short time together that I realized I didn’t have a photo with her. But I was thinking about what she taught me, what she loved, and I remembered a conversation we had a few years ago about the changing seasons. I love fall, from the sights of painted fiery leaves to the crisp air. I find it to be a spectacular beauty, but she said that fall has always made her sad since she was a little girl. Florence said something that stuck with me, “I don’t like fall because you are watching all the beautiful leaves and flowers die away. Spring has always been my favorite because everything comes back to life.” I hadn’t thought about that way before. Now, as she is gone and I see signs of spring everywhere I look, I feel the warmth of her friendship in the flowers that seem to pop up anywhere and everywhere. The birds that call and the trees that bud, it is beautiful.
She was my great aunt, two generations older than me, but someone that understood how my mind worked better than any relative ever had. She just got me. I got to know her as an adult after I moved back to the Greater Pittsburgh Area in 2021, not long after her husband passed away. She was my grandma’s younger sister, and I was drawn to her company after losing my mentor, my grandma. But what I discovered was a warm friendship, a safe harbor during a time that was a transition to life after death. Through her friendship, I learned how to be a good friend again. To make time for people and open up even if I was feeling low. She would remind me to give as much as I take, which has helped me be brave and seek out new friendships where in the past I would have been too shy to put myself out there.
Florence inspired me to not see the challenges in life as a roadblock but to make the best of the circumstances you have. She had a tenacity and a fierce spirit of adventure, at 80 years old planning a trip back to Ireland to see our relatives at the family farm. As a young adult, she took a solo trip to Europe, in a similar way I did the same when I was 17. She understood the desire to see the world and soak up the wonderful possibilities it had to offer. Florence understood my love to try new food, garden, make my own clothes, and be determined while still treating others with dignity and respect. She empathized with my concerns about starting a business, with the desire to simply give my garments to people who really need them instead of wanting to make a profit. Through her stories, I learned that sewing and food preservation are two skills that I have, that her mom also had. I felt such a connection to my ancestors through our talks, and now I know I am keeping traditions alive. She gifted me my first working sewing machine and set me up for success when I didn’t feel confident enough to take the leap.
I wish we had more time here on Earth, but I am glad to have made such a deep friendship in the time we did have. The lessons she taught me during our time together will bless my life for years to come. I hope to be like her and when I leave this Earth to have made a positive impact on those around me. To inspire love and zest for life in my friends and family. Thank you, dearest friend. You will be missed.
The most intimidating part of sewing for me has been pattern drafting. Possessing the understanding to draft a pattern for a garment demonstrates the knowledge of how the pieces of the clothes we wear every day are put together, plus having the foresight to sketch out the shapes on the fabric in a 3D form. It’s a lot! But that is how clothing makers have designed and crafted pieces for most of fashion history. Before the paper pattern was made available in the mid-19th century, garment makers had to understand how to create these building blocks.
“All devotees of home sewing should know these two names: Madame Demorest and Ebenezer Butterick. Madame Demorest, wife of a successful New York merchant, was the first pattern maven. In the 1850s, she began selling tissue-paper patterns for home sewers via mail order advertisements in fashion periodicals such as the Ladies Gazette and Godey’s Lady’s Book. Initially, these patterns were ungraded, meaning that the seamstress had to enlarge or reduce the pattern to fit her figure. Garment elements such as sleeves, bodices and skirts were sold individually so that the sewer could create her own dress. In 1860, Madame Demorest began to sell her patterns through her own publication, called The Mirror of Fashion. Patterns were also sold via “Madame Demorest’s Magasins des Modes” shops, of which there were 300 national and international locations by the middle of the 1870s. By the late 1880s, Madame Demorest and her husband had sold their pattern empire and turned their interests to philanthropy. Though Madame Demorest may have been the first to sell tissue-paper patterns, Ebenezer Butterick was the first to sell graded patterns. According to Butterick’s corporate history, Butterick created graded patterns in response to a comment his wife made when sewing a garment for their son. “
Museum, F. (2009, August 4). Sewing patterns. FIDM Museum. https://fidmmuseum.org/2009/08/sewing-patterns.html
What I have challenged myself to do in my journey of sewing is to understand these building blocks to create my unique patterns and connect with the craft of it as a maker. I’m a nerdy person, I love digging into the story beneath what we do. That’s why majoring in History called to me even as my desire was to study fashion. I realized through the mentorship of a great professor that I could understand the motivation behind the garments and how people lived their lives in them which would provide a deeper understanding of fashion history. How cool is that? Since that point in my studies, I’ve craved a deeper connection to clothes. It became more than just an artistic exercise of sketching a design I had in my head, I wanted to understand why fabrics are the way that they are. How trends interacted with culture and history. And so as I was looking to go deeper in 2021, I consumed a lot of Bernadette Banner, Nicole Rudolph, Karolina Zebrowska, Morgan Donner, and Cathy Hay’s content. They dig into the meat of garment construction and silhouette in a way I wasn’t introduced to fashion design by Vogue or Harper’s Bazaar. In doing so I knew, yes paper patterns would be necessary to learn from, but I needed to learn how to draft the shapes in the old way to make things I couldn’t find in the pattern envelopes of Joann Fabrics or Mood’s Sewceity.
For example, the silk halter dress and black and white tank dresses were hand drafted from my own measurements, being draped and cut based on my own form. In comparison, the light blue summer suit above was made with the assistance of two paper patterns to understand the construction of a collared shirt and shorts, two pieces that are essential building blocks of a wardrobe. But after I used the pattern to understand how to shape a collar and cut lines of shorts it was time to go back to drafting what the garment would look like based on my own pattern pieces. Yes, the suit is quite messy and I’m not thrilled with the fit of how it came out. I realized the tailoring was goofy because I deferred too much to a standardized pattern shape and now if I re-made it I could draft the whole pattern by hand according to my own custom measurements.
That is why the learning process of pattern drafting has been such a rewarding quest, it has de-programmed my brain from the effect of standardized sizing and fast fashion. Those pre-made patterns while essential to learn, can’t fit everybody and every shape it’s not possible. My student garments have not been the most flattering or pretty to behold because I am learning the process of fitting, it’s been a slow burn but when it all comes together I can see how much clothing is actually made for an individual instead of a mass market is just so dang luxurious to wear. Even when it is not perfect I’ve felt the reward. The bigger reward though is that because it is a learning process, eventually the tailoring and my construction skill set will catch up to the ideas in my head and my clothes will turn out exactly how I picture them.
I think sometimes we underestimate the effect fast fashion is having on our minds in the way we relate to clothes. We are accepting uncomfortable, cheap-quality, synthetic fabric clothing that is made to be disposable. It is not supposed to be like that. Take this dress featured below, it is made from 100% cotton that I purchased for $4.00 a yard from a quilting fabric store. Because it was a natural material it held up to wear and washing and was breathable. It was such a comfortable fabric to wear in the summer and did not fall apart. The dress I made was drafted according to an older style of skirt, with 10 skirt panels that were tapered to the waist to make the skirt swish, as taught to me by Bernadette Banner’s videos. I then drafted the bodice using historical dress-making techniques from the Victorian era, as taught by Cathy Hay’s videos. This garment fits me better than my wedding dress. Hands down the best-tailored garment I’ve made according to traditional construction techniques! It took me four months to complete, as I was still learning how to sew and draft. It only cost me $16 dollars in fabric although it looked far more expensive when it was done. I guess my point is by sharing this is to share with you, reader, is to share how valuable it can be to learn the old techniques instead of deferring to technology. Let our knowledge and craftsmanship define our creations instead of a piece of technology, like AI. Not all of our modern ways know best. Fast fashion certainly doesn’t!
A satin hem. Rosalina of the Mario universe. A blanket that has been an heirloom for 50 years. Comfort at the final moments. These are ingredients that wove together my inspiration for this unusual dress design.
This was a project of perseverance. I initially wanted to make a long midi dress with a shirttail hem. It was supposed to have a button placket and straps instead of sleeves. The mockup was not pretty! I felt like a thick column of plaid, compared to the easy breezy girl walking the beach I had in my mind.
As a maker, what do you do when the pieces are already cut? There’s no going back. Especially if it is a self-drafted pattern, which it was. You have to sit with it and see the piece for what it has become. Accept that your choices led you to this destination and figure out how to keep moving forward. It’s just like life and how things that happen, good or bad, shape us into the people we are today.
Some days I feel like pattern pieces that don’t fit together, but other days those pieces I can see make something beautiful. It’s all about the perspective we see the world in. Mine comes from God’s word and so I know that God is working all things for the good of His Kingdom. (Romans 8:28)
But how do I apply that to a failing project? I try to see each project as worthy of improvement. Instead of getting frustrated and quitting, I try to give the materials the respect to make the best possible garment out of what the fabric is providing. It was plaid, casual, and oh-so-cozy to the touch! Those are good qualities! So I tried it on again and tucked the skirt so that it hit around the knee- it looked pretty cute! I decided it was time I hacked it off. This part is always nerve-wracking but thankfully I cut it straight.
With the dress in two pieces, the bottom portion of the skirt no longer looked like a skirt. It featured that shirttail hem I mentioned before, which curved like a familiar shape. I realized if I turned them upside down they looked a lot like the curve of a sleeve! A lovely oversized bell sleeve that would insert easily into the already sewn shoulder straps. Perfect.
Looking whimsical already, and giving me Rosalina from Mario vibes, I went digging through my stash for a specific trim – satin blanket edge binding. Suddenly this uncertain design became a dress of nostalgia.
On my bed, since I was a little girl, I had a blanket with a satin edge binding. It was a blanket similar to my grandparents’ one on their bed through 52 years of marriage. When Papa was sick he had a small blanket with a satin blanket edge binding on his hospital bed. He kept it there through the isolation of lockdown. He gave it to me as he passed on, and it now lives in my trunk.
This dress even in its upcycled state still had some fit issues that have kept me from wearing it like a closet staple, but this project reminded me that sometimes you got to make things that evoke emotions and memories. Things that make you happy! When I see that style of blanket on my bed I smile because it reminds me of the memories that have shaped me into the person I am today. I know that if they could see this dress my grandparents would be amused and that brightens my day.
In the future, I hope to re-make this dress with either a stretch fabric or a stretch cotton twill that will help with the shape. It slides off my shoulders so I may need to add a tie across the back, spanning the opening of my shoulder straps, or create a snap system that can attach to my undergarment. I think this dress could be fun in another print or maybe a solid. There are a lot of possibilities to explore!
I think running my sewing machine is one of my most contemplative times. Maybe it’s the melodic sound of the needle and bobbin working in step? As the seam flows like a fabric river through the machine, the world drifts slowly away.
I am transported to the place of thoughts, memories, dreams. I am observing, thinking, existing.
Yesterday I was sewing a dark, espresso brown fabric. Chocolatey you could call it. Under the machine the side seam went, I watched the pattern disappear from one end to the other, and I was overcome by this familiar sensation. A taste foreign to my lips, yet a familiar friend – tootsie roll pops.
A chocolate tootsie roll pop. Now, I haven’t had one of those since, high school? Probably high school. The grape and raspberry ones were my flavor of choice, which were a hot ticket item for my cousins too. I remember eating a lot of the chocolate and cherry ones because they were the ones left over after my cousins came for the day. But before they went home, my grandparents would let us pick out a tootsie roll pop.
It’s amazing how memory, is so attached to taste, smell. Yet sometimes it doesn’t even need the taste or the smell. Yesterday the birds were chirping, it was a clear sunny spring afternoon. My husband was listening to a Braves vs Red Sox Spring Training game. The sounds of the baseball. I loved played baseball with my cousins. It was about 2:30, the time we used to drop them off at home, with a tootsie roll pop.
All because that fabric looked so chocolatey? I don’t know, memory is such a fickle thing but I am sure glad it pops in on those random moments and reminds us of those small delights from childhood.
What is a small delight from your childhood that you wish you could taste right now?
As a kid, I used to sketch clothing. My friends and I imagined our own fashion brands and collected these sketches into booklets, like homemade catalogs dreaming of our Delia’s. We were obsessed with Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, Sister Sister, Lizzie McGuire, Totally Spies, Destiny’s Child coordinated outfits, The Cheetah Girls, etc. If it had a fashion twist, we were lining up to consume it. We excitedly watched What Not To Wear, America’s Next Top Model, and Project Runway, hoping one day that we would be a fashion force to reckon with. I gravitated to the design side while my friends were more interested in modeling, stylist, and it-girl/influencer ideal. To be honest, I think that girl of 11 would not believe the garment that would solidify my feeling of a true designer would be a set of loungewear instead of an avant-garde gown.
My sewing plan for 2022 had been simple, make, make, and make some more. I scoured Joann’s clearance bins and drooled over Mood’s selection of prints itching to make something of a higher caliber than my previous tries. I had drafted my own coat, tried some vintage patterns, and successfully made lounge pants for my husband yet had struggled with fitting my own pants. I had dabbled in tops but didn’t understand shoulder seams or hoods. I was still quite green! But I needed some new pajamas and thought hey, let’s do this. So I dug out of my fabric stash this cheerful blue gingham in soft cotton shirting. It felt like being wrapped in a hug with a little drape. I was feeling cocky after sewing two vintage patterned dresses earlier in 2022 and thought, how hard could it be to make myself some pants. I figured out that 1940s pattern, I got this. And actually, it turned out to be one of my favorite early pieces!
This set was made of a pair of high-waisted drawstring pants with oversized balloon-style pants that tapered into a cuffed ankle. The matching crop top featured a generous hood and long sleeves with a boxy fit that just felt so relaxed and cool. With the hood up I felt like Princess Leia in her original white dress. The geometric pattern and unusual silhouette gave me the confidence to seek out my own style with sewing, not just be a vintage hobbity cottage-core girl that was so popular around this time. This helped me to remember to be playful with my designs and inspire the little girl who sketched clothes while she was supposed to be taking notes in class. It reminded me of the Cheetah Girls matching track-suits and avant-garde silhouettes I craved from street style.
What made this feel full circle was not just how good I felt in the garment, but the doors it opened up. My cousin’s daughter fell in love with the piece and wanted me to make her one. That was the first time I had made something that people wanted to buy. It felt incredible! But also taught me that the vision of what I dreamed of becoming, was not that far off from those designs I sketched as a kid. They weren’t show-pieces for a runway, they were real-life clothing that was playful and useful for living life in. I realized I do have a place in the fashion space even if I’m not in a fashion capital, running a brand. The world right now doesn’t need more ballgowns or high fashion editorial pieces, it needs functional clothing made locally and created with love for the people we love. I could be a fashion designer who could make humble pieces a little more special. That’s where Potato Technology became a tangible idea instead of a pipe dream.
When I began drawing close to the Lord and leaning on Him, I knew it would be a journey of hills and valleys. The highs have been transformative, and life-giving. I did not expect how much spiritual warfare would affect my day-to-day life! This battle feels endless some days.
I’m not sure if it was naivety or purely immaturity but growing up I thought only “important” people experienced this like heroes of faith in the Bible or spiritual leaders in the modern day, I missed the point that just like the Bible was created for everyone, the stumbling blocks that try to steal our peace affect everyone. Looking at it objectively it makes sense if spiritual warfare literally fights against us growing the Kingdom of God, and we as believers are all members of it, it would affect us all. Sometimes I feel like the church in North America doesn’t address this enough. We get bogged down in the good things, the prosperity, and an inflated sense that things will go right in our lives because “God is on our side, who can be against us” you know the message. It wasn’t until I dug deeper into conversations with my fellow sisters in Christ that I realized no, this is not the case, we are all in a constant battle against discouragement.
One of my friends has lived outside North America most of her life where she experienced a much different kind of spiritual warfare in places where the air felt heavy with darkness. The battle was evident and was at the forefront of their minds and it grew perseverance, most importantly awareness that it is happening! Even though it is invisible to the eye, we need to be awake and alive in Christ. Not complacent. She brought to my attention the importance of prayer – praying over your house, praying over your co-workers, your relationships, etc. We need that lifeline to the Lord to fight the battle for us. I heard so often at school and at home – put on the full armor of God! To not face down scary things without first stopping to put on the full armor of God. But what does this mean? I was so puzzled by this.
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.
Ephesians 6:10-18 (NIV)
My grandparents recited this scripture to me when I was feeling discouraged or scared of things, I would listen and yet didn’t get what they were telling me. To be honest, I’m not sure I understood the importance of armor until watching Star Wars. In my mind, the armor seemed like a great way to carry a weight on me and be weighed down by the protection, which is funny because I must have thought a lot of my own strength because my approach sounds like I believe I am so powerful I could go into battle like a Jedi. I am not a Jedi, I’m a battle droid. “Roger. Roger. Stand down- oh no I’m *crash, bang, splat*. ” I love those guys, but they are not capable.
Mando is capable, and so are Boba and Jango Fett. They have weapons, helmets, spaceships, and even jet packs to get them out of trouble. Most importantly they know how to use all the resources in front of them and have practiced their use so that they know how to fight against any enemy. Yet, Mando and Boba Fett are not the same capable warriors without their armor, just like we are not capable nor prepared for the ongoing battle if we do not seek God’s armor. Still, what does the spiritual armor look like in practice?
In my experience, I feel the armor of God on me when I prepare with a few key things. I am well-versed in God’s promises. I don’t even need a song to remind me of what I already know and when I feel challenged by the enemy the promise immediately comes to mind that defeats whatever lies the enemy is trying to sell. I am spending consistent time in God’s word so that I am familiar with how this story ends, the enemy is already defeated and when I forget that, that is when he has power. But when I remember and hold fast to the fact that Jesus died and rose again so that death was defeated and my sins were forgiven, I cannot be bullied by the shame of my past mistakes and cannot be convinced that God does not care. He does care about us, more than anyone on earth possibly can because He is God and no one else is more powerful than Him. I am also well-steeped in worship music so much so that it is the soundtrack of my day. With hope filling my ears, and promises in my heart I am almost there. I am abiding in the Spirit who is guiding my heart and mind from dwelling on things that are not honoring to God, I am working to combat my sinful nature to reflect God’s character in the world instead of my own. I am spending time in prayer consulting God and not the world. I am also confiding my struggles with fellow believers, true friends who can encourage me and pray for me when I am struggling.
Most importantly, I remember that under the helmet there is just a human being underneath the armor. Just like Mando, is just a man. That I am not my own strength, God is. Because I cannot do things on my own, I must remain humble and dependent on God.
One Rabbit Riot 