A Philosophy of Scarves and Memories of Mum

Scarves are more than an article of clothing.

My mother grew up in the Great Depression. She knew how to save a penny and how to make the most of anything she had. She was also rather pretty and a little vain, and put great stock into showing a good appearance to the world. With such a combination of traits, and raising nine children (just to keep the pennies even tighter), Mum had sound advice about how to dress well and feel good about one's appearance.

I recall Mum saying once that as long as you had a nice, serviceable coat and basic outfits, you could change your look each year with a change of shoes, handbag, or other accessories. I suppose hats featured in there for many years, too.

Mum was a careful shopper with clothes all her life. She never had many, but everything was good quality, built to last and stylish without having to be the height of fashion. No fads were ever entertained and she always looked good.

In her later years, she accumulated scarves. As she aged and had to wear more sensible shoes, dresses and skirts gave way to basic pants with simple tops and jumpers, usually in plain colours. This allowed for the embellishment of scarves.

Scarves enabled family members to choose gifts for Mum, who had simple tastes and lived humbly. A scarf could be an expression of mood, a little bit of flair, an eye-catching piece on a simple outfit.

I didn't start making scarves until recently, so I never made one for Mum, but I did inherit her love of beautiful things, especially fabrics, and have put this into my sewing. My beautiful sewing machine was Mum's, bought in 1948 with money she was given as a farewell/wedding present from workmates. It was the machine on which I learnt to sew and now takes pride of place in my house, sitting on a table made from a renovated treadle table from an even earlier era.

As I make the scarves, I think about how a little piece of fabric can offer so much. It can be a gift. It can be a little splashing out of spending on oneself. It can be a bit of self-expression without being too loud or obvious. It can be a bit of brightness and cheer.

Many of us are self-conscious, particularly as we age in a culture that worships youth and an unattainable notion of beauty. I know many women who are unhappy with their appearance and/or unsure of what suits them, or even of what they like. We are fragile creatures.

What I try to do with my scarves is to offer a little escape from self-consciousness, a little spring in your step, a little bit of prettiness to frame your face in the mirror, a little reward for being yourself. (You are also unlikely to meet yourself at the next corner, as my scarves are limited editions, mostly one-offs.)

A scarf can be the difference in our day.