eco-friendly shower curtains

Conventional store-bought shower curtains are made from polyvinyl chloride (PVC), a petrochemical product that is toxic in its manufacture and use (it outgasses a suspected carcinogen and hormone disrupter). It is being phased out of toys and household products in Europe, and hopefully North America will soon follow suit. Because it is relatively inexpensive to make, it's found in a huge variety of items. Read more about the dangers of PVC here.

Alternatives to vinyl shower curtains are available commercially in the form of fabric curtains. Most are also made from petrochemicals, however. Hemp and organic cotton shower curtains are available, but expensive.

I decided to make my own eco-friendly shower curtain out of a large piece of gauzy 100% cotton from my fabric stash. All I had to do was hem it to the appropriate length and add twelve grommets to the top. Because it's so lightweight, it dries quickly and doesn't attract mold. It's easy to wash, and can be dried by re-hanging it while still wet. It looks great in my bathroom, adding to the natural spa effect of white tiles and fixtures combined with natural materials such as wood and wicker.

linen and linen-look cushion covers

When I moved into my current apartment I wanted to go with an all-white European rustic theme for my bed. I had already made pillow slips out of heavy, linen-look rayon for my "sleeping" pillows, but wanted some throw cushions to match.

IKEA carries very inexpensive feather cushions, and I made slip-on covers for them out of vintage fabrics from my stash: two old 100% linen tablecloths, an old, worn 100% cotton sheet (lined with more cotton since the sheet had holes in some places), and 100% cotton muslin.

Each cover has a slit in the back (I don't like zippers on cushions) so it can be removed for cleaning. They look great on my bed, giving it the feel of a European farmhouse.

slipcovers

The upholstery on my mother's favorite armchair was rotting from sun exposure, and she didn't know what to do about it. I offered to make her a slipcover for the chair, so we went shopping for fabric (which my sister paid for), and this became Mom's birthday present that year (my responsibility was the sewing part).

In retrospect, this particular fabric was probably not a good choice; it looks amazing in the room, and coordinates well with the other pieces, but it was a royal pain having to match the pattern with its small repeat and right angles. I'm pretty obsessive, and everything has to be exactly centred and perfectly symmetrical. I was happy with the end result, though.

tea cosies - flat views

Each reincarnations tea cosy is one-of-a-kind, lovingly hand-crafted from recycled, felted 100% wool sweaters. Wool has many amazing properties that make it a superb insulator. It retains heat even when wet and is naturally flame-retardant.

The teapots are courtesy of my friend Laurie, who collects teapots. She generously loaned them to me for my "photo shoots." (I drink lots of herbal tea, but ironically I never use a cosy - I like my tea lukewarm, and I make it in a Bodum-style coffee press. Yes, there is a prototype Bodum cosy in the works!)

I'm inspired by the colours of Kaffe Fassett's knitting and needlework designs, and the colour combinations I choose for my cosies are often reminiscent of the colourways Fassett uses.

I'm also inspired by folk art, North American rustic and Amish designs. I like to make practical objects that are beautiful, colourful and a little funky. I hate to throw anything away, so you'll often find ribbings or other sweater details incorporated into some of the cosies.

tea cosies - top views

I like to listen to music - usually classical - when I'm cutting fabric for the cosies. Right now I'm going through a Mussorgsky phase, and play Pictures at an Exhibition every time I pull out my scissors.

I often listen to lectures on tape - especially Clarissa (Women Who Run with the Wolves) Pinkola Estes' Theatre of the Imagination boxed sets - when I hand-sew the cosies together. It takes me about an hour to sew all the seams on one cosy, so the time passes more quickly when I have something interesting to listen to. I don't own a television...

why "reincarnations"?

I have been interested in sustainable living for over twenty years, and I'm always encouraged to hear about artists and craftspeople using recycled materials in their work.

For some time I've been wanting to create beautiful, useful products from the huge stash of fabric and yarn - much of it recycled clothing - that I've collected since I was a teenager.

The name reincarnations was not my first choice for my recycled fabric creations. I wanted to call them healing threads, since I believe that recycling fabric is something that can help heal (or at least reduce the harm to) our planet. But when I did an online search I found a company in the States already using that name.

Another product line I want to create is meditation cushions sewn from recycled jeans, and as I played with the idea of meditation and Buddhism and recycling, the name reincarnations came to me, and kind of stuck. So reincarnations it is...

how the cosies are made

Making the reincarnations tea cosies is a very labour-intensive process. First I hand-select preloved 100% wool sweaters from a number of recycling sources (usually thrift shops or rummage sales, although a few of the sweaters once belonged to me or my family). I then felt the sweaters.

100% wool fabric will shrink when exposed to alkaline chemicals (washing soda, baking soda, or pure soap), hot temperatures and agitation. In the past I have found that using alkaline chemicals speeds up the felting process, but results in a fabric that is less pleasing to the touch. So I forego the chemicals and simply wash the wool in hot water, then dry it in the dryer on the highest temperature setting. I add vinegar to the wash water to help condition the water. It may take several washes for the wool to shrink enough to create a dense fabric that won't fray when cut.

After the sweaters have been felted I cut them apart and steam the fabric pieces flat with an industrial iron. Then the fun begins. I sort the felt pieces by thickness and colour, and choose the colours for each unique reincarnations cosy. After cutting the pieces I hand-stitch them with tapestry wool using a blanket stitch, and press them one last time before tagging and shipping them to tea shops and retail outlets.

the story behind the tea cosies

I'm in the first year of a three-year training program in the Alexander Technique, a type of body work. Every weekday morning during class we have a fifteen-minute tea break. The students take turns preparing tea; for some, it is a very serious or thoughtful task.

One student in particular, who was raised by his English mother to make a "proper cuppa," would often resort to covering the full teapots with tea towels to keep the water warm before break, in the absence of proper cosies. When he was about to go on a trip to England to visit relatives, he remarked that he should bring back some tea cosies for the school.

I've been creating with fibre and fabric since I was a child, and I was inspired by his words. I told him not to bother with cosies from England; I would make some for the school myself during the time he was away.

Like most sewers, I have a huge fabric stash, including several brightly-coloured wool sweaters that I had felted. I cut up a few of them, and in a couple of days had stitched together three cosies - each unique - for the school. I made a fourth for my best friend who collects teapots, and a business was born.