Prelude to the First Edition
1. Flight from the City
II. Domestic Production
III. Food, Pure Food, and Fresh
Food
IV. The Loom and the Sewing-machine
V. Shelter
VI. Water, Hot Water, and Waste
Water
VII. Education--The School
of Living
VIII. Capital
IX. Security versus Insecurity
X. Independence versus Dependence
HOMESTEADING CATALOG
HOME PAGE
CHAPTER FOUR
THE LOOM AND THE SEWING-MACHINE
WHEN I first became interested in the
possibilities of home weaving, my father told me a story which I have told over and
over again because it illustrates most vividly the economic advantages of what I
call domestic production.
When he left his home in Hungary to
come to this country he was twenty-five years of age. That was not quite fifty years
ago. At the time he left Hungary the sheets which were in use in the family's ancestral
home were the same sheets which had been included in the hand-spun and hand-woven
linens given to his mother as a wedding gift thirty years before. What is more, at
the time he left home they were still in perfect condition and apparently good for
a lifetime of further service. After thirty years of continuous service those home-spun,
home-woven, home-bleached, and home-laundered sheets were still snowy white, heavy
linen of a quality it is impossible to duplicate today.
Now let us contrast the sheets which
were in my grandmother's home with the sheets in our home today and in that of practically
all of the homes of industrialized America. Compared with the luxurious heavy linen
in my grandmother's home, we use a relatively cheap, sleazy, factory-spun, factory-woven
and factory-finished sheet, which we used to send out to commercial laundries, and
which we replaced about every two years. With domestic laundering they last about
twice as long. True, the first cost of our factory-made sheets is much less than
the cost of the hand-made linens, but the final and complete cost is much greater
and at no time do we have the luxury of using the linens which in my grandmother's
home were accepted as their everyday due. I do not know what her linen sheets cost
in labor and materials fifty years ago. We pay about $1.25 for ours, and on the basis
of commercial laundering, have to purchase new ones every two years. Our expenditure
for sheets for thirty years, with a family one-quarter the size of grandmother's,
would therefore be $18.75 per sheet--much more, I am sure, than was spent for sheets
during the same period of time in my grandmother's home. And at the end of thirty
years, we would have nothing but a pile of sleazy cotton rags, while in the old home
they still had the original sheets probably good for again as much service.
Before the era of factory spinning
and factory weaving, which began with the first Arkwright mill in Nottingham, England,
in 1768, fabrics and clothing were made in the homes and workshops of each community.
Men raised the flax and wool and then did the weaving. Women did the spinning and
later sewed and knitted the yarns into garments of all kinds. The music of the spinning-wheel
and the rhythm of the loom filled the land. Perhaps one-third of the time of men
and women--one-third of their total time at labor--was devoted to producing yarns
and fabrics which they consumed.
In the place of loom-rooms in its homes,
America now has thousands of mills employing hundreds of thousands of wage-earners.
Many of the wage-earners in these textile mills are children in spite of the campaigns
against child labor. And the wages paid by these mills are notoriously the lowest
which prevail in industry in this country. Instead of healthy and creative work in
the homes, we have monotonous and deadly labor in mills.
A trifle over a third of the production
of the cotton industry is used for industrial purposes. It is used by manufacturers
in fabricating tires, automobile bodies, electric wire, and similar industrial products.
Two-thirds of the production of cotton and nearly all of the production of the silk
and wool industry goes to the consumer either as piece goods for home sewing, or
cut up into wearing apparel by clothing manufacturers. This means that only to to
1 per cent of the total number of factories and workers in the entire industry are
engaged in producing for the needs of other industries. All of the rest are doing
work which used to be done in the home and much of which might still be done there.
And our experiments with sewing and weaving tend to show that it can be done at an
actual saving of labor or money.
If all the resources of modern science
and industry were to be utilized for the purpose of making the spinning-wheel, the
reel, and the loom into really efficient domestic machines (as efficient relatively
as is the average domestic sewing-machine), the number of textile-mills which could
meet the competition of the home producer would be insignificant. And if modern inventive
genius were thus applied to these appliances for weaving, there would be no drudgery
in domestic weaving; a saving of time and money would be effected; the quality and
design of fabrics would be improved, and everybody of high and low degree would be
furnished an opportunity to engage in interesting and expressive work. Such improved
machinery would occupy no more space than is now wasted in many homes and the loom-room
would give to the home a new practical and economic function.
Our loom, in spite of the attachment
of a flying shuttle, which has increased its efficiency greatly, remains one of the
most primitive pieces of machinery in our home. There is at present no really efficient
domestic loom upon the market. Most of the looms made for what is called "band
weaving" with emphasis on the silent word "art," are built upon archaic
models or devised so as to make weaving as difficult as possible instead of as easy
as possible.
The biggest market for these looms
is, I believe, in the institutional field. Weaving is one of the favored methods
of "occupational therapy" in the ever-increasing number of institutions
for nervous and mental disorders which we are erecting all over the country. The
strain of repetitive work in our factories and offices, and the absence of creative
and productive work in our homes, particularly for women, children, and the is turning
us into a race of neurotics. Weaving is being revived, after a fashion, as a therapeutic
measure to restore these unfortunates to health. What a ghastly commentary upon what
we have called progress. Having taken the looms out of homes during the past century
and transferred them to factories, we now find that the absence of the creative work
they used to furnish is producing an ever-increasing number of neurotic men and women,
and an endless number of "problem" children. So our physicians are putting
the loom into their institutions in order to make the victims of this deprivation
well again. Then they turn them, after curing them, back into their loomless homes
to break down again.
The looms built for occupational therapy
and hand-weaving generally are deliberately designed to increase the amount of manual
work which those who operate them have to perform for every yard of cloth produced.
As a result the actual production of cloth is slow and laborious. Yet there is no
reason why this should be so. The right kind of loom would enable the average family
to produce suitings, blankets, rugs, draperies, and domestics of all kinds of a quality
superior to those generally produced in factories and on sale in stores at a far
lower cost after taking time and all materials and supplies into consideration. The
artistic and emotional gains from the practice of this craft would therefore be a
clear gain.
In the average home, a loom which will
weave a width of a yard is sufficient. Ours is able to handle fabrics up to forty-four
inches in width. While many things can be made on a simple two-harness loom, we find
the four-harness loom a more useful type because of its greater range of design.
But every loom should be equipped with an efficient system for warping, and with
a flying shuttle, if it is to enable the home-weaver to compete upon an economic
basis with the factory. Neither of these are expensive--in fact, the whole investment
in equipment in order to weave need not exceed $75 if one can make the flying shuttle
arrangement oneself. The shuttle attachment on my loom was home-made and took me
only three or four hours to put together. With such a loom, even an average weaver
can produce a yard of cloth an hour--and a speedy weaver, willing to exert himself,
can produce thirty yards per day. Since it takes only seven yards of twenty-seven-inch
cloth to make a three-piece suit for a man, it is possible to weave the cloth for
a suit in a single day on a small loom, and in less than a day on a loom able to
handle fiftyfour-inch cloth.
Some idea of the possibilities of weaving,
even without much experience, can be gained from our first experiences with blankets--one
was woven by a friend of mine who had never had any experience at all, in a little
less than eight hours. A similar one was the first blanket woven by my son--a somewhat
better piece of work--in less than six hours. A third was a somewhat more elaborate
affair on which three members of the family each did a turn, and so I have no record
of the time it took to weave it. The yarn used in these blankets cost about $2.50
for each blanket-- at a time when blankets of similar quality couldn't have been
purchased for many times that sum. Even if the loom is only used occasionally, it
will earn handsome dividends on the investment at this rate.
Our experiments in the weaving of woolens
for men's and women's clothing have demonstrated the practicability not only of cutting
out of the budget most of the expenditures for ready-made garments, but even the
expenditures for fabrics. The accompanying illustrations of garments made from fabrics
woven in the Borsodi homestead suggest not only the great variety of garments for
which it is possible to weave the fabrics, but the fact that they are, if anything,
more attractive than those which are usually on sale in retail stores ready-made.
The suit shown in the accompanying
picture was made from yarn home-spun in the Kentucky mountains; the cloth was woven
and finished in our home; the suit was made up by a tailor operating a one-man shop
near our place. The yarn cost $4.50; the tailoring $30. I had it appraised by various
so-called experts at the time, and they valued it all the way from $60 to $90. One
friend, who could not qualify as an expert but who has his suits made by Fifth Avenue
tailors, said that he had paid $125 for suits no better than this one. Incidentally,
the suiting was the first which I ever wove.
Demonstrating the Flying Shuttle on the Loom. There Are No
Really Efficient Domestic Looms on the Market. The Flying Shuttle Was Added to This
Loom on the Homestead. With This Attachment, a Yard of Cloth Is Readily Woven in
an Hour. The Suit Worn by the Demonstrator Was a Hand-spun Twill, Woven on This Loom
and Made-up by a Local Tailor.
This matter of tailoring brings up one
of the amusing follies of modern civilization to which we pay no attention but for
which we pay, nevertheless, over and over again. The strictly tailored costumes which
men now wear have nothing but custom to recommend them. They require great skill
in sewing; they are therefore impractical for manufacture at home. Yet they are artistic
monstrosities. They do nothing to set off the human form. They are not even utilitarian.
Most of the hard work of the world is done by men who wear over-alls or cotton garments
which are not tailored at all. While suits are practical enough for the work which
men do in offices, they are much too hot for indoor use--especially in houses which
are steam heated. A foolish convention, however, makes us all wear them. If we, however,
once again took the designing of our garments into our own hands, it is possible
that something much more attractive and useful might develop. We might experiment
with blouses, or even with costumes such as the Chinese wear. And apropos of blouses
for men, it is an amusing commentary upon the industrialization of Russian life under
the Soviets, that the old Russian blouses, which could be made in any household,
are now being replaced by the conventional costume of Western civilization--which
has to be made in factories.
With women's garments, the field for
weaving and for the needlecrafts, even with prevailing styles, is much broader. The
garments illustrated show coats, suits, and dresses all made from fabrics woven in
our home. I presume I am rather prejudiced in the matter, but it seems to me that
the garments Mrs. Borsodi has produced in our home compare favorably with those which
most women buy ready to wear today.
The sewing-machine is a most important
piece of domestic machinery It is doubtful whether any other piece of machinery pays
larger dividends upon the investment made in it. Yet it remains a tool, to be used
when needed and laid aside, perhaps for months at a time, when no sewing has to be
done. In combination with the loom, the sewing-machine takes on new significance
both economically and artistically. What I have here in mind can be made clear by
quoting from an article by Mrs. Borsodi in The Handicrafter, which describes
one of her suits:
The suit was made from a twill suiting.
The yarn was a weaving special; the warp tan No. 136, and the weft a lovely green,
No. 755. The weave was a simple twill made with four treadles operated 1, 2. 3, 4
and repeat. Four yards of material 27 inches wide were used. The suit was based upon
a Vogue pattern, which was modified in many details. Since I had never before tailored
homespun, it took many more hours of time to produce the suit than a second one could
possibly take. Immediately upon cutting the material by the pattern, I stitched twice
around the cut edges on the sewing-machine. This prevented the material from unraveling.
I then proceeded much the same as in making any other coat and dress. Finally, after
much pressing into shape, I have a suit which has repeatedly been called very good-looking,
and which I know gave me more joy in the weaving and making than I ever had in purchasing
a similar product from any store. Outside of fur, it is the warmest coat I have ever
worn.
It is difficult to compare the cost
with a factory product, because I could not afford to purchase this quality and character
of material made up. To get this quality of material one would have to go to an expensive
house indeed, and to get this particular style of material at the time I finished
the suit, it would have been necessary to go to a stylish and even exclusive house
because it was just coming in. Taking all these things into consideration, a valuation
of No would represent a most conservative price.
In judging the hours spent in weaving
and sewing, please remember that this was the first time I had done either, and,
even on a second garment of this type, the time of weaving and the time spent in
sewing could be considerably reduced. Also, I could make an even better-looking suit
a second time.
In charging fifty cents an hour for
my time, I think I have given the benefit of a relatively high rate to the factory,
for few factories pay this price for such operations as were performed. To be sure,
the factory has its designers who are well paid, but then I paid for my share of
such service in the Vogue pattern upon which I relied for assured fit and style.
And in addition to the saving on the suit, I had the pleasure of developing a creation
of my own.
| One-half pound warp at $3.00 |
$1.50
|
| One pound of weft |
3.00
|
| Two yards of lining at $2.50 |
5.00
|
| Thread |
0.20
|
| Pattern |
0.65
|
|
Total Materials
|
$10.35
|
| Labor weaving, 5 hours at 50¢ |
2.50
|
| Labor sewing, 12 hours at 50¢ |
6.00
|
|
Total Cost
|
$18.85
|
It should be borne in mind that the
above costs refer to a period when prices were in general fully twice as high as
they are today. Both the cost above as well as the price of a garment with which
to compare this suit should therefore be understood as establishing relative savings
rather than actual savings today. The record, however, can stand examination no matter
from what standpoint it is viewed. It would show a nice dividend upon the investment
in domestic machinery even after full allowance is made for the time spent in making
the suit. It is significant that the two yards of silk lining--purchased factory
made-cost almost as much as all the rest of the fabric for both materials and weaving.
What the sewing-machine alone can do
is shown from another record from Mrs. Borsodi's cost book.
This covered an afternoon frock, appraised
at the time it was made as worth $49.50.
| Three and a half yards of silk |
$8.75
|
| Pattern and findings |
0.90
|
| Sundries |
0.15
|
|
Cost exclusive of labor
|
$9.80
|
Earned in thirteen hours (a more skillful worker could have made the
frock in less time), assuming a similar frock could have been purchased for $4g.so
and that the time spent in shopping for the ready-made garment
and the superior fit and indi vidual style of the specially made dress is disregarded |
$39.70
|
|
Value of afternoon frock
|
$49.50
|
Some of the value in this frock lay,
I presume, in its "style," something for which women pay a great deal if
they are intent on keeping on with the latest developments in Paris. The sewing-machine
makes it possible to secure style without having to patronize the most expensive
stores and to pay a premium for this service.
Some of the Products of the Loom-room and Sewing Room
On the Left--a Dress, and a Suit, Two
Blankets, and a Wall Hanging. All Home Woven and Home Sewn. On the Right--a Home-woven
and Home-sewn Coat with the Yarn Home Spun in the Kentucky Mountains. The Hat, the
Handbag, and Even the Gloves--which Were Crocheted--Were Also Home Made. The Fabric
Is a Rich, Deep Red; The Weave Is a Novel Herringbone Effect.
The coat shown [on page 55] was made on
the same warp as the man's suit previously referred to, but with a heavier weft.
It cost about $3.50 in yarn and about 24 hours for sewing and weaving. The fabric
is a distinctive herringbone effect; it is exceedingly warm; it promises to wear
almost indefinitely; the design and color express Mrs. Borsodi's personality. What
more could be expected of any garment than that it should be attractive, useful,
inexpensive, and that its production should furnish a creative outlet for the artistic
abilities of its maker?
To me the part which our loom and sewing-machine
have played in creative living is, if anything, more important than the service they
have rendered in making us less dependent upon earning money.
Prelude to the First Edition
1. Flight from the City
II. Domestic Production
III. Food, Pure Food, and Fresh
Food
IV. The Loom and the Sewing-machine
V. Shelter
VI. Water, Hot Water, and Waste
Water
VII. Education--The School
of Living
VIII. Capital
IX. Security versus Insecurity
X. Independence versus Dependence
HOMESTEADING CATALOG
HOME PAGE