Materials & Supplies Needed

• Fabric: 2 to 3 yards of Scraps or fabric samples (several different collections/lines can be mixed seamlessly as long as they share similar weaves and weights). My materials were samples from a quilt show.

• Notions:

  • Elastic for the waistband (sized to student’s waist measurement)

  • Matching thread

  • Standard sewing tools (sewing machine, pins or clips, fabric scissors, iron, measuring tape, and a serger or sewing machine equipped with a zigzag stitch)

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January: I was unemployed in Florida with only a sewing machine and access to a Goodwill. So, I bought about a dozen button-up shirts, locked myself in a room, and dove in. I made a very weird pair of pants that you will never see, three different skirts, two tops, and two bags in a short amount of time.

Lesson learned: My upcycled garments had been, up to that point, one-of-a-kind and not repeatable in any effieicent manner.

Social media and I have had tumultuous relationships, and this year has completely turned it around. I photographed my upcycled creations and sent them to by besties. They told me to start an Instagram - I reluctantly did it end of January. At the same time, I started this Substack. I wanted to actually talk about my ideas - my hopes & dreams for creating. I understand this platform to be significantly more community-focused and less advertisement, which I authentically desire.

Lesson learned: I can express clearly and I have interesting ideas.

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February: This video of a sleeve skirt blew up on Instagram. I had a bizarre moment of “WTF did I just do.” I was seen as a creative person with an interesting idea. (yikes: a dream and a fear, all in one) My substack got bigger, my confidence grew, and I began to trust momentum. As someone who likes control and is concerned about perfection, momentum is intimidating.

Lesson learned: Social media is a tool for connection and expression - one worthy of my consideration & heart.

Instead of hiding, I stepped up & opened an Etsy shop. I sold several items immediately and suffered immense imposter syndrome. Then got positive reviews - how wild!

Lesson learned: I can market & sell my art; it is good enough. Also, adding pockets to things is a real pain.

More February: I upcycled 2 Columbia button-up shirts into a fitted pinafore apron for myself and sent a pick to my cheerleader besties again. One of them is a business owner with a gift shop - she ordered 12 aprons immediately. This step into recreating the same pattern, in different sizes, to be sold in a physical retail space was a massive undertaking and upleveling. To do this efficiently required serious planning: I had to evaluate what worked best on the first apron, what needed to be changed for sizing, and how to quickly execute this order to be ready for a spring release. Here is the YouTube short about the process of upcycling these babies.

This experience packed some of the biggest lessons of the year, so far: I had to learn when enough is enough with perfection, how to value my time and effort financially, and to trust that my ideas are worthy of repeating.

Literally hundreds of people asked for a pattern for the sleeve skirt in the comments, so I took it upon myself to try to make a pattern/ how-to guide/ tutorial video. I had never done ANYTHING like it before. I don’t use commercial patterns, and because it’s upcycled, it was never going to look like one. So I embraced the mad scientiest, inspired artist vibe & encouraged maniacal laughter and embracing crooked seams. The pattern is available here. & HERE. It took dozens of hours of development, dozens more hours documenting and editing the video & photos for the guide, and even more trust in myself. I started making it in February, but didn’t release it until late April.

Lesson learned: Not giving in to the time pressure of a “viral moment” was a wise decision. The hundreds of folks who said they would buy the pattern did not exactly tell the truth.

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March & April: I said out loud to my partner, “Man, I’d love to show some clothing in a fashion show this year.” Not a week later, a non-profit in Cedar Rapids, IA called 237 Collective opened applications to be a designer for Ephemeral Fashion Show - a group show in the first week of April. I applied & was accepted. I started designing 6 one-of-a-kind looks for my collection The Unfolding, read the article about it here. I am so grateful for this opportunity, and it really turned the creative juices on maximum overdrive.

Lesson learned: My desire to do another fashion show waxes & wanes. While it gave me so many fresh ideas and inspiration, the event took me away from repeatable sell-able garment making.

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In May, I was working full time at my seasonal agritourism job. We held a lovely kite-centric event at the farm and hosted Great American Kites & Events. These folks travel the country with giant, several-thousand-dollar kites to fill the skies. They saw my sewing machine out on my desk and asked if I would be willing to repair some kites for them. I thought, “Why not! As long as I clarify that I’ve never done such a thing, I can’t ruin these massive kites any further than they already are, right?” I built my confidence, fostered new supportive friendships, and got a pay check! It was breath-taking to see a 16 foot kite floating in the sky an hour after I finished repairing it. I wrote an article about the experience here.

Lesson learned: Opportunities are everwhere & mending is an invaluable skill to share.

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June: I spent the month developing and creating prototypes for a massive branch of the Upcycled by Hanna brand: The Heritage Thread. These custom capsules are memorial collections upcycled from your loved one’s items. The idea is that you send 3 of your beloved’s shirts and I upcycle them into a specific collection (there will eventually be six different collections to choose from) and I send you back your upcycled new heirlooms. This idea has been living in my head, rent-free for years. As a hospice volunteer, elder companion, and professional organizer, I dwell on the idea of inheriting stuff & things A LOT. I want to honor greif, art, and memory by combining them into wearable garments. I had intended to create prototypes for all 6 capsules, but was not able to make repeatable garments. So, I’m sticking with one for the month of July. The first collection will be available for custom order: The Comfort Capsule. I can’t wait to share this with y’all.

Lesson Learned: Creating prototypes is not a one-and-done game.

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The rest of the year will be very exciting: I am moving to a new city, I am stepping into newer & bigger roles in my agritourism job, and I am beginning the dive into investment real estate. To keep Upcycled by Hanna going, I vow to dedicate time and heart into creating and sharing. But I don't want to just talk to the void—I want this Substack to be a living, breathing space where we share our creative projects together. I’ve started a Substack Chat where I’m dropping behind-the-scenes pics, and I want you in there showing me whatever you are making, dreaming up, or prototyping right now. Thank you for being here. It is already so freaking cool!

We all find ourselves standing in front of the closet, you know which one. We are left with the overwhelming weight of sorting through the physical evidence of a life. Their signature looks (think khaki shorts & hawaiian shirts over the grill or overalls & pearl snap shirts in the truck), the well-worn flannels, the crisp work button-downs, the formal outfit they wore to a cousin’s wedding, the too-thin tees. We can’t bring ourselves to donate them, so we tuck them into plastic bins or push them to the dark corners of a closet. We keep them safe, but they stay … hidden. Untouchable. Abandoned.

Through Upcycled by Hanna, I have been working soley with pre-loved textiles. But my heart has been in the memorial, greiving, and legacy spaces wondering: How do we take a bin full of grief and rework it into something functional (if not, funky) to be part of our daily lives? How can we remember and feel embraced, not left standing alone? How can mourning be worn without being so … tragic?

Those questions are the foundation of The Heritage Thread.

The Deal: Three Shirts, One Capsule

The process is slow, intentional, and deeply personalized. You trust me with three treasured shirts belonging to a loved one who has passed away. From there, I carefully deconstruct them and reconstruct them into a single, cohesive capsule collection. The trick is to understand that, like your loved ones, these garments are changing permanently.

These aren’t heavy, monumental quilts meant to sit untouched at the foot of a bed. They are functional pieces of everyday life designed to be worn, held, and brought out into the world. They’re meant to bring you joy. It’s a practical path to remembrance—a way to feel wrapped in their presence while you’re making your morning coffee, hosting a family dinner or reunion, or living your regular, busy workday.

Because every legacy carries its own distinct impressions, I have developed six signature capsule collections. Here is my hope for how they take shape, ahead of the official launch:

The Comfort Capsule

A soft place to land for quiet & slow moments of remembrance.

• The Collection: One pair of relaxed and cozy pajamas and one soft, padded sleep mask.

• The Best Pieces to Send: T-shirts, thin rayon Hawaiin shirts, soft linens, or brushed flannels.

• The Heart of It: Intentionally designed for slow Sunday mornings and restful nights. - limited to 4 slots per month (~$180.00).

The Trio Capsule

Translating a capsule of memories into a cohesive, wearable daily wardrobe.

• The Collection: One tailored, flowy top, one classic everyday skirt, and one spacious matching tote bag.

• The Best Pieces to Send: Crisp cotton button-downs, linen shirts, lightweight flannel.

• The Heart of It: Tailored to bring a loved one’s classic style directly into your modern workspace or weekend routine. - limited to 3 slots per month (~$210.00).

The Heritage Capsule

A functional, timeless tribute to the hands that kept the home.

• The Collection: One beautifully detailed, structured Heritage apron, one heavy-duty tote bag, and a lightweight, versatile two-piece lounge or utility set.

• The Best Pieces to Send: Mid-weight cottons, oxford cloth, sturdy linen, or structured denim shirts.

• The Heart of It: Created for the creators, the cooks, the storytellers, and the keepers of traditions. - limited to 2 slots per month (~$265.00).

The Commuter Capsule

Taking their memory with you on every single adventure.

• The Collection: One hands-free crossbody sling bag, one perfectly paneled bucket hat, and one sturdy accent key fob utilizing a signature cuff or button placket.

• The Best Pieces to Send: Heavy-duty, rugged work shirts, denim, canvas, corduroy, or heavy flannel.

• The Heart of It: An accessory-driven capsule made for daily wear, travel, and movement. Because it requires zero precise body measurements, it acts as a low-stress, beautiful gifting option for family members navigating loss. - limited to 3 slots per month (~$225.00).

The Executive Capsule

Sharp lines, tailoring, and a polished professional legacy. (The one I’m most scared of)

• The Collection: One beautifully tailored, fully-lined vest (waistcoat), one heavily padded tech/tablet sleeve, and a set of two fabric drink coasters.

• The Best Pieces to Send: High-quality office button-downs, poplin, twill, fine linen, or lightweight wool suiting.

• The Heart of It: Honoring a lifetime of dedication and sharp, focused work by transforming structured garments into timeless wardrobe staples. - limited to 2 slots per month (~$275.00).

The Mini Heritage Capsule

Passing a family legacy down to the littlest hands.

• The Collection: Two vintage-inspired child’s pinafore dresses (or cozy overalls) alongside a small, hand-stitched memory bear built from the remaining scraps.

• The Best Pieces to Send: Soft cotton shirts, light flannel, chambray, or cozy knit shirts.

• The Heart of It: Keeping the thread between generations completely intact. Navigating tiny, delicate curves and miniature keepsakes requires slow, careful work. - limited to 2 slots per month (~$180.00).

  

The Goal is the End of June

Right now, my mind is full of design ideas. I am completely immersed in the development phase—working through refining the patterns that can be accessible for all shapes & sizes & materials, and executing the physical mock-ups (without getting stuck on perfection).

By the end of June, I hope to be shooting photos of the completed capsules so you can see exactly what these textiles are capable of transforming into. Simultaneously, the internet shop space for The Heritage Thread will open, and custom orders will officially go live.

Because this work is deeply intentional and demands slow pacing, I will be keeping strict monthly limits on available slots for each capsule. Every shirt represents a life, and I refuse to rush the process. (Let’s be real: I also have other jobs and move around a lot and have only so much space in my mind and spirit for it all.)

Joining the Journey

Grief is a heavy thing to carry through the world, but it can also be a beautiful space for preservation. I am so honored & excited to open my heart to your stories, your memories, and your loved ones’ garments. If you’re ever interested in joining along or trying to create these yourself, reach out. I think this could be a masterful thing with a team behind it.

How to prepare for the end-of-June launch:

1. Look through the closet and select the 3 signature shirts that hold the most memory for you.

2. Match those textiles to the capsule collection that mirrors your modern lifestyle best.

3. Subscribe to this Substack space. It will automatically notify you the exact minute the website goes live and the initial custom slots open.

Subscribe now

Thank you for being here, for leaning into the beauty of slow, sustainable textile art, and for trusting my hands with the pieces of your heart.

We begin by July 1, 2026.

I currently work seasonally for an agritourism farm in Iowa. We host exciting events highlighting seasonal outdoor fun, like a tulip festival and baby animals weekend. Last weekend, we hosted Fields of Flight Kite Festival, where we brought in a professional tour crew with giant kites to fill our skies. The event dazzled me, mostly because that sort of thing just tickles me - I like twirly, floaty, gentle things that play with scale and with the elements, and I’ve gotta say, kites are that.

The hosts of the company who put on the show, Great American Kites & Events out of KCMO, noticed that I had a sewing machine and point-blank asked if I would help mend some things. I said, “Sure, I’ll try.” An hour later, I had repaired two GIANT kites and another 30 minutes after that, they were in the sky!

I had never mended nylon like that; I’ll admit that it wasn’t easy, but I wasn’t afraid. It was fascinating to see that often, the weave simply gave way on the kites. And it was easy to see stress points at the anchors to the strings. While I was able to make repairs to four kites, one was left completely unrepaired. I ran into a tail that was ripped to shit, and with no nylon in my stash to patch it with, I had to admit defeat.

It’s fun to see how many doors I’ve stepped through this year already. Makes me wonder if I have underestimated my own adaptability and enterprising attitude? I’m certain I would have said yes before, but would I have had my sewing machine out in the open? Would I have had hundreds of hours of recent sewing experience under my belt to provide the confidence to handle it?

As excited as I was to have been able to make some quick repairs, my favorite part of the experience was making genuine connection & friendship with the kite crew! They loved my eagerness to try and they offered me more kite repair work. SO! Looks like this might be a thing? Sounds good to me! Repairing 20-foot-long caterpillar kites on the resume check!

I made an adjustable skirt made entirely of sleeves in February, and then I made a video. People had a positive response to the video and asked for a pattern. I made an 11 page PDF how-to guide & short tutorial video and posted it for sale in April on my Etsy shop here. I don’t even use patterns, and I’ve absolutely never made one before this, so I went the route of making a detailed (but not technical) how-to guide and put it out there!

Turns out, I can express an idea and give directions that are understandable - I legitimately doubted my ability to do that for weeks while making the guide.

Michelle bought my how-to guide, made the sleeve skirt, AND wore it to a family event! She twirled. She looked beautiful. She said that she got many compliments and that she was already planning the colors for her next skirt.

To say I was excited is an understatement. Michelle just became a comrade in the upcycling armada. I knew that I wanted to convince folks to join me in reusing, reducing, and recycling - but I never saw it happening like this. I am so inspired by Michelle’s willingness to try something new, and admittedly strange; cutting sleeves open, flipping them upside down, then sewing them together is a bit odd. While the skirt is flattering on her, that’s not the entire point — she now gets to explain that the skirt is upcycled from pre-loved garments. A teachable moment, as they say.

This skirt is fun and easy to make. It has my favorite sewing quality - immediate gratification! It’s irreverent. It’s sustainable. It’s a middle finger to fast fashion.

There is an element of understanding my own definition of success, too. To have folks like you appreciate, support, and maybe even understand my goals is the apex of achievement. When I take a second to zoom out, I realize that my intention of breathing new life into old clothing is nearer every day. I have been gifted my grandmother’s clothing and have promised several custom-ordered items for folks to memorialize their loved ones. What opportunity!

Anyway, enough of the blabbing. I actually made a guide!

I would love love love feedback and I would love to see what you make. Here it is:

Read more

I applied to design for the fashion show in the beginning of March (only a week or so after making my vow) and knew that the show would be only 3.5 weeks later. Did that stop me from upcycling entirely new designs and garments I have never before attempted? Absolutely not. Did I use a single pattern? Never. Was I freaking out the week before the show? Duh. All the while, life was life-ing and I moved from Colorado to Iowa to start my seasonal job. Since I flew, I was not able to bring my sewing machine, so I had to rely on a borrowed one (shout outs, Erin!). I landed with the materials, my sketchbook, and the deadline.

Here are the looks and their stats:

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The garment that had its moment: A skirt made entirely of sleeves—splayed open and upside down. It was inspired by a genius adjustable pattern from the 1700s (that has remained popular since then) that I saw on YouTube (shoutout to Ash L G). I kept the cuffs intact and attached them together at the waist.

I’ll be honest: I don’t exactly recall the “process.”

I just remember a pile of sleeves and a lot of trial and error. As I sewed them together along the seams, I caught myself cackling like a maniacal movie character. It’s surreal, it’s a good twirler, and I honestly do not care about any “credit”.

What I do care about is that I actually finished it.

The 85% Hurdle

Finishing has always been my Achilles’ heel. For more than a decade, I’d get a project to 85% completion and then just... stop. But something shifted. Since January, I’ve been finishing and actually posting garments for sale on Etsy. I am genuinely so proud of myself—consider this my official “pat on the back” moment.

Instagram isn’t really my thing. I don’t love getting sucked into the scroll, and the fact that half a million people saw my reel doesn’t move the needle for me.

But I do care if those people feel encouraged to recycle. I want to shout this from the rooftops: You can create something with absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and it will still be AWESOME. It’s awesome because your hands and mind made it. It’s awesome because you kept it out of a landfill for now. It’s awesome because you’re bringing life back into something old. A massive round of applause for the upcyclers out there.

Want to make one?

Since I’m not a “pattern person,” I’m putting together a more intuitive step-by-step guide. It’ll include a video and written, numbered steps with photos.

• For Paid Substack Subscribers: This guide will be available to you on 3/28 as part of your subscription.

• For Everyone Else: I’ll be selling the PDF and video link over on Etsy.

I’m always around to answer questions about specific steps, so please feel free to reach out. Now, go find some sleeves.

There is a specific kind of “maker’s paralysis” that happens when the fabric has a soul. I wanted to do something meaningful, but I was terrified to take the scissors to history. Several years ago, my friend Ross did the one adult thing no one is prepared for: driving six states over to dismantle her departed father’s life. Ross made the trip back with her car filled with bags of clothing, framed pictures, paperwork, and exciting trinkets from his travels abroad.

While her relationship with her father was complicated, she felt an obligation and an emotional pull to gather and keep his belongings. Suddenly, her apartment wasn’t a home; it was a storage unit for someone else’s ghost. I offered to come over, drink a brew, and sort through some of the bags, to see what we could get rid of. It was deeply emotional, and I really got to know her father through the stories she regaled.

When it came to the bags of clothing, I offered to take some of it off her hands. I simply saw it as free yardage of fabric. There were hoodies and work shirts with logos that she kept for comfort and remembrance; the button-ups didn’t fit her and were made of a stiff cotton, so those were what I offered to take.

Pro Tip: People often repeat-buy or buy similar things when they know they like a certain style. People are creatures of habit. If a person likes a certain weight of cotton or a specific blue plaid, they probably own six versions of it. I grabbed a handful of shirts with similar prints and weights—the kind of “curated collection” you usually only find when someone clears out an entire closet at a thrift store.

When I got home, I was so touched by Ross’s sharing and wanted to do something meaningful with her father’s shirts. I hung the shirts up… and they stayed there. For weeks. The paralysis had kicked in.

One day, seemingly out of nowhere, I took out my shears, and grabbed two of the shirts and just started cutting along the seams. I was exhilarated. After the shirts were sloppily dismantled, sleeves piled in one corner with front chest parts in another, I saw enough fabric to make a fairly full skirt. So, I started sewing the panels of fabric I had, alternating between the two different shirts so they went every-other around my waist. I had enough length to the roll the top hem and stick a piece of elastic through it — the immediate gratification of an elastic waistband tickles my heart like nothing else.

I used the existing hems at the bottom of the shirts to be the hem of the skirt (which was great for me, because my sewing skills lacked the ability to make a straight and even hem). However, the hems weren’t the same shapes—if you notice, the bottoms of shirt hems often sweep down at the back middle and curve up at the side seams. Every shirt seems different in that regard, so I made the conscious choice NOT to worry about curves and seams matching perfectly. I’ve stuck with the “embrace the imperfection” tactic ever since.

When the skirt of alternating shirts was finished, I realized I had more to work with: the collars and the sleeves. I grabbed the two collars from the shirts used to make the skirt, safety-pinned them together, and wrapped them around my waist. They made an adorable waistband, so I sloppily tacked the non-stretching collars to the stretchy elastic waistband and called it a day.

To be honest, I think this original design is a bit awkward. It really is only for folks who like a skirt that hits just at the knee with little to no flounce. However, it taught me a lot. I’m all for recognizing when genius strikes and acknowledging that anything can be improved upon. The real trick is knowing when “good” is good enough.

I still wear these first shirt-skirts often, and I reflect on how the idea came to me without much thought, but only after much hesitation. Motivation is a tricky thing to navigate, and right now I am riding the wave of motivation like never before—as if I am a skilled surfer of gnarly waves, certain of survival but completely unaware of how the ride itself will go.

Have you ever held onto an item of clothing or a memento that felt 'too heavy' to change, but too important to leave alone? I’d love to hear about the things you’ve repurposed or the stories you’ve kept alive through creating.

Fashion and style have been an important part of my self-expression since I can remember. For the cheesy family portraits taken in a JCPenney studio, my mother would always dress us to the nines. My mother, even though she had to wear a postal uniform every day for 35 years, would do her full face and hair every day. She would always be painting her nails and wearing rings on every finger. All of us in my childhood home have Libra ascendant signs, and we deeply value beauty and charming style. At one point, I would receive six magazines a month and keep them in a five-foot stack by date and by publication in our living room. I was nominated Best Dressed in high school, I was obsessed with Project Runway, and I won a team sewing project for 4H at the state fair where we took a wedding dress and upcycled it into a new garment.

I took every home economics class and loved them because of my desire to learn to sew; I later enrolled at two Midwest universities to study apparel design but dropped out after three years (college was just not for me). In college, I found the technicalities of sewing tests and pattern making dull and limiting. I honestly found the entire university experience dull and limiting, but this is about sewing…

Sewing after education:

After dropping out, I stepped away from sewing for a few years. Every once in a while, I would modify a thrifted garment to fit me better or mend a small issue, but I never made anything entirely new with a pattern. I was burnt by the technicalities and the perfectionism forced upon me (not that it doesn’t come naturally, because, boy does it!)

Things changed one day when I realized that making clothing doesn’t need to be made with perfectly straight lines! Gravity and natural human bodily curves are our friends in the world of imperfectly sewn seams and hems. HOW FREEING!

While clothing is essential, it is also art, and I’ve been drawn to the beauty of “folk” art and fashion—there is always a level of “flaw” and a flourish that feels so expressive of humanity. When I see someone wearing something that I think looks handmade, I ask them about it, and it prompts conversation about creativity—even if they didn’t make the thing. I find the YouTube videos or Instagram reels claiming that homemade garments need to be repaired or altered to look professional so frustrating! Forget looking professional all the time - how boring and untrue to our sloppy ass real lives.

Autonomy & Sustainability:

Thus far in my 15 years of sewing adventures, the reflections and contemplations of upcycling have been just as rewarding as the technical skills gained. The ability to help others has been such a great skill to trade and I have recognized that to be able to clothe ourselves is an act of autonomy in this oppressive-feeling consumerist world. We can gladly reject the tragic human rights abuses prevalent in the clothing industry when we make our own. We can help others repair important things so they don’t have to use more of their money in the world of constant newness and cheaply made items that break too easily.

Giving another life to already-existing garments is empowering and thought-provoking; it causes reflection of what has been and leads to an innate gratitude for what the garment previously meant to someone else.

Now, sewing for me is validating my childhood dreams. It is giving my creativity somewhere empowering to live. Sewing is standing up for sustainable choice-making. I am grateful I know how to sew and would love to know your beginnings. Did you also love Project Runway? Did your home ec classes resonate in ways you didn’t understand at first? Did you get secondary education in apparel, if so, what was it like?

In the context of sewing, upcycling is the practice of taking an already-existing garment and reassembling it into a different thing entirely. This comes in many forms: from the ubiquitous t-shirt patchwork blankets found at graduation parties, to the cotton bed sheets turned summer dress seen all over upcycling TikToks, to my button-up shirt projects. It is a common hospice volunteer task to be given the departed’s softest flannels or t-shirts and be asked to turn them into heirloom pillows for the bereaved.

To me, upcycling is a meaningful creative practice of resuscitation, of taking items either rejected or left behind by a late loved one, and breathing life into them. Value be damned.

These upcycled projects often serve as nothing but a creative project used to stretch my mind and my sewing abilities; albeit, the goal is to hopefully wear or use them. To thoughtfully dismantle a garment and puzzle it back into something with new life can feel reflective of learning life lessons; the work is both technically difficult and emotionally inspiring. Half of the time, I get into projects that are way over my head and I would find them almost impossible to repeat. But I learn so much along the way.

Upcycling can be the creative pursuit of making heirlooms. The Merriam Webster’s definition of heirloom is: something of special value handed down from one generation to another. Again, value be damned! When a deceased loved one leaves behind their clothing (which is inevitable), the instinct is often to stash them in a closet corner or donate them. But I want to encourage you to give them new value by instilling more meaning. It’s free fabric, folks! Maybe it’s sacrilegious to cut up your great grandmother’s wedding dress, but is it so horrible to take her much-loved and worn out blouse and make it wearable again by cropping it or cutting the sleeves off? Nah! Go for it, before it ends up in a landfill. I can almost guarantee a massive level of glee from your auntie when she recognizes what you’ve done.

More than anything, upcycling is a creative pursuit in sustainability. And it’s infectious. It’s found in the remodeled old industrial buildings as apartments, it is the mason jar as a flower vase, it is the conversion of an old van into a sleeping space. Upcycling is a psychedelic take on “what was” and alchemizes into “what could this possibly become?”

I must mention that I am not a writer, however, I will never use AI to help me write or edit these posts. Please excuse any strange or unintelligible ramblings, for I certainly have a lot of room for improvement in my writings.

A major goal of sharing this work is to connect to a community of creators and conscious consumers! Let’s share our magick! By this time next week, I hope to have a mailing list where I do a weekly drop of new items for sale and where I host a weekly online mending circle, where we stitch & bitch relentlessly. Reach out if you want the link to the meeting!

I believe in the autonomous power of community to build an ever greater world for all of us, a world that encourages sustainability and internal empowerment. By upcycling discarded or beloved garments of our deceased friends & family, I can encourage contemplation of what recycling can be and the depth of its meaning. And I hope to embolden you to take action toward participating in the amazing world of creatively recycling and taking the power of fashion into your own hands.

I will share current musings, my history, my future, my perspective on big ideas like sustainability and upcycling, as well as step-by-step guides on how to make some of the designs. I want you to be encouraged to bust out the sewing machine that you may have rejected, watch a video on how to operate it, then get to making something. Then, most importantly, I want to encourage you to wear it! Share it! Sharing homemade garments can turn into side hustles and deepened relationships (I’ve gotten money, free piano lessons, and art & clothing from helping folks mend their things).

I want to urge you to take a piece of clothing that you think needs some improvements and cut that thing up! Because that’s freedom, baby! I want you to embrace the imperfection of mismatched hemlines and stained sleeves. I want you to join me in the pain of pulling out the seam ripper again. I want us all to question what is worthy of the title “heirloom” and then make them with our own hearts, minds, and hands.

Join me for some ramblings, some interesting clothing, some creative prompts, and some simple acts of freedom and rebellion (if you’re into that sort of thing).