Mike
Of all the garments I own, my Irish wool sweater is the one I cherish the most. Received as a gift almost thirty five years ago, it has kept me warm on many adventures, and is well documented in photos over the years. I wore it on a trip home to MN in '89, which would be the last time I'd see my mother before her death, and my sweater and memories of her have become entwined.
When I toured Ireland in '94 with a rock band, the sweater traveled with me back to its place of origin, and accompanied me on a visit to the church where my great grandfather was baptized. As a musician who owns many vintage instruments, including a double bass that was made a hundred and twenty years ago, I am fascinated by the stories that these instruments accrue over the years of their existence.
Starry-eyed fantasy or not, I believe objects have a soul, especially things that are made by hand, like my sweater. The energy of the person who crafted this sweater - just as the energy of the bass maker and previous owners who have played it before me - is imbued in the fabric, as are all of the memories of the times I have worn it.
So, it was with great sadness that several years ago I discovered that moths had also become quite fond of its rough, natural fibers, and devoured much of it. Unable to throw it away, I set it aside, hoping for a time when I might find someone who could bring it back to life.
Fast forward to the present, and during the current global pandemic, I heard about Natalie and contacted her. Her passion for the stories about the garments she worked on and the people who wore them, won me over, and I entrusted her with my precious sweater. The work she did is amazing, and once again I am able to wear my sweater on even more adventures. The original tag has long since faded, and now there is a new one next to it - one with Natalie's name. I'd like to think that after I'm gone, my sweater may pass on to someone else, now with another story woven into it's fabric- the story of it's rebirth.