Portland Artists on the Things They’ve Repaired Over and Over
Image: Courtesy Britt Howard
Generally, you fix things that have stopped working because you need them to get through the day. Your pants ripped, water is leaking into your shoe, your iPhone can no longer hold enough juice to power a measly hour of TikToks. That is, of course, if you’re into fixing things. Though so-called “repair culture” is becoming less of a novelty interest as the price of everyday objects continues to soar, saving a few bucks isn’t the only reason to maintain your belongings. To glean some insights into why new isn’t always better, we asked three Portland artists to share stories of cherished belonging they’ve repaired over and over.
Portland Garment Factory founder Britt Howard’s
dog blanket
I worked with [the Ace Hotel] for years on different projects all across the world. At one point they gave me a gift of the classic Pendleton wool blanket they have in the rooms. We used it as a nicer blanket on our bed. And then when we got our puppy, she would sleep on it and, like, tear on it. She’s a hunting dog, Rory; she’s a bird dog, a German shorthaired pointer. She would go hunting with my husband, and he started to use it as the blanket that goes around the crate at night. Patching it was kind of a no-brainer. I’m needle felting it: You lay out the wool and you take a needle and tap, tap, tap, tap.”
Image: Courtesy Morgan Ritter
Poet and multimedia artist Morgan Ritter’s childhood teddy bear
It was my childhood teddy bear. My grandpa [a tailor] sewed a new body around the old body. Down the line, its new body was bit or attacked by my mom’s dog, and the old body was inside. We mended it, stuffed it back in, and now it’s ripped open again. If I see a little fluff floating around my house, I know it’s from my teddy bear. I’m holding on to the fluff. I’m considering putting it all back into the body, but I’m overwhelmed by making a choice for what the newest body should be. It’s pretty loaded.”
Image: Courtesy Jeffry Mitchell
Folk artist Jeffry Mitchell’s heirloom afghans
This is one of dozens of afghans my grandmother made in the ’60s and ’70s. She taught me how to knit, crochet, quilt, embroider, etc. I have eight siblings, and we all have many afghans. Each comprises over 100 blocks/squares. With use they inevitably come apart in places. It’s my job to reconnect them. I’ve done it for myself and all my siblings. The repair becomes part of the love-in-the-first-place. I love the meditation, ruminating on her gift while mending, handling what she handled, using the know-how she passed on to me to extend the life of her handmade gift.”
