A couple reminders:

• Potholders are available right now! After March 5th they will be at DNA Galleries.

• Album potholders are now available at Factory Obscura's Bonus Track gift shop.

My Fabric Destash Journey

Part 1: The Why

We Are Here: A Decade of Quilting

I took up quilting full time in 2016, when I pivoted from painting. That's nearly a decade of quilting. I worked for 6.5 of those years at the Journey Quilt Company, making and finishing quilts for other people. It's fair to say I took home at least one piece of fabric every day I worked there.

I also moved four times since 2016. We can safely suppose I got rid of some fabric as part of each move.

I did one major fabric destash / reorganization during that decade. Long-time Fold readers may remember this situation from 2023:

I Still Had Too Much Fabric

My sewing space is what would be a normal person's dining room. It's in the middle of my home so I walk past it multiple times a day. Sometime in 2025, I noticed that I didn't like being there. Why? Every surface in and around the space was covered with clutter in the form of "projects".

Project is a dangerous word for me, because it implies that a pile of stuff might someday be done. I'm good about keeping material for a single "project" together in a box or a bag. However, it's really easy for those containers to accumulate as piles.

I was drowning in projects. Some of them had been projects for literal years. Walking into my creative space felt painful. I was swamped with feelings of guilt, shame, failure, grief, and frustration. Once I recognized and acknowledged these feelings, I knew it was time for a change. I remembered that I'm in charge of my creative space, not some imaginary figure with a clipboard, a red pen, and a disappointed glare. I decide how that space gets used.

I saw the path forward. By letting go of the projects, I could reclaim my space.

Part 2: The What

Y'all, opening those project bags and boxes was scary. However, I took that as a cue that I was unlocking things I'd been avoiding. That leads to growth. So I followed the fear, opened the bags, and dumped out the contents. After the first few bags, it wasn't scary any more. I was barreling down the slope of bravery and accomplishment! I had momentum.

What I Learned About Myself

I'm not the same artist I was 5 or 10 years ago. I don't have the same aesthetic pulls or creative tendencies.

I'm no longer a champion of miniscule fabric scraps. I used to be - I loved taking the tiniest pieces and sewing them together. I still do that sometimes, particularly when I'm making potholders. But I’m mostly over it.

Related: Do you have fabric you want to rehome? This article has some guidelines for mindful fabric donation.

When it comes to fabric, I respond to its texture as much as its appearance. I got rid of a lot of fabric that just didn't feel good in my hands. For example, denim that had been heavily starched. Low quality cotton blended with a synthetic fiber. A shirt that smelled like armpit. I learned that if it doesn't feel good to touch it (or smell it), I don't want to make a quilt with it.

This has gotten more pronounced as I've pivoted into quilting by hand rather than machine. Hand quilting means a lot more time touching the fabric. Weirdly, this process of elimination came to include batiks, which are harder to push a needle through.

“Project" is not the only danger word for me. The others are might, could, maybe, someday, and if. As in:

"I could turn these deconstructed overalls into a totally cute tote bag someday if I learned how to do that."

No, ma'am. Now I'm only keeping fabric together as project kits if:

• My soul positively cries out to make that thing

• It's a planned project for a planned exhibition

• I've been hired by a client to make that thing

Everything else had to go back into the official stash, or out the door.

Part 3: The How is coming soon.

A GIF For Those Who Read This Far

Talk soon,
xoxo Sarah