Unit 12 · Hand Sewing

Open a small sewing kit and lay everything out on the table. You will find needles, thread, straight pins, a pincushion, small sharp scissors, a thimble, a tape measure and a seam ripper. Before you can sew anything, you need to know what each tool does and why it earns its place in the box.

Needles carry the thread through the fabric. Thread is the line that holds the pieces together. Straight pins hold two layers of fabric in place before you stitch, so the layers cannot slide apart. The pincushion is a small stuffed pad where pins and needles live when they are not in your hand. A pin left on a chair or the floor ends up in someone’s foot.

Scissors in a sewing kit are for thread and fabric only. Cutting paper with them dulls the blades, and dull scissors chew fabric instead of cutting it. A tape measure is a soft ruler that bends around a body or a curve. A seam ripper is a small hook with a sharp inside edge that slides under a stitch and cuts it, so you can undo a mistake without cutting the fabric.

The thimble is the tool people skip, and then their fingertip pays for it. It is a small metal or rubber cap worn on the middle finger of the hand that holds the needle. When you push the needle through thick fabric, you push with the thimble, not with bare skin. Every tool goes back in the kit when you are done, and every pin gets counted.

Pick up a packet of hand needles and read the label: "Sharps, sizes 3 to 9." The word tells you the type, and the numbers tell you the size. Here is the rule that surprises people: with hand needles, a bigger number means a thinner, shorter needle. A size 3 sharp is thick and long, good for denim. A size 9 is fine and short, good for thin cotton.

The needle you choose should match the fabric. A thick needle on thin fabric leaves visible holes. A thin needle on heavy fabric bends or snaps when you push. Most classroom kits use sharps, an all-purpose needle with a round eye and a sharp point, in a middle size such as 7. Embroidery needles have a longer eye for thicker thread. Ballpoint needles have a rounded tip that slips between the loops of a knit instead of piercing them.

Thread matters as much as the needle. All-purpose polyester or cotton-polyester thread works for almost everything in this unit. It is strong, it does not stretch much, and it comes in every color. Match the color to the fabric for a repair you want to hide. Choose a contrasting color for practice so you can see every stitch. Look at the thread against the eye of the needle: the thread must pass through the eye without being forced.

One more number matters: length. Cut a piece of thread about 18 inches long, roughly from your fingertips to your elbow. Longer thread tangles and knots on itself while you sew. Shorter thread runs out before the seam is done. If a job needs more, you can always knot off and start a new piece.

Sit near a window or a lamp and hold the needle in one hand with the eye up. Cut the thread with sharp scissors at a slight angle, so the end is clean and pointed. Do not bite it or break it; a frayed end will not go through. Wet the tip of the thread on your lip, pinch it flat between your thumb and finger so only a tiny point shows, and push that point through the eye. If it will not go, cut a fresh end and try again.

Pull about 4 inches through the eye so the thread does not slip back out. For most work you will sew with a single thread: one strand through the fabric, with a knot on the long tail only. For a button or a seam that takes strain, pull the ends even and knot both together to sew with a double thread, which is twice as strong.

Now the knot. Hold the tail of the thread between your thumb and first finger. Wrap the thread once around the tip of your first finger, roll the loop off your finger with your thumb so it twists, then pinch and pull the loop down to the end of the thread. It tightens into a small knot. If the knot slides off the end, you rolled it too close to the tip. Leave about half an inch of tail.

Test the knot before you sew. Push the needle into the fabric from the back and pull until the knot stops against the cloth. If the knot pops through the weave, the fabric is loose or the knot is too small; tie a second knot on top of the first. A knot that holds is the difference between a seam and a piece of thread lying on the cloth.

Picture a table with six students, thirty pins and six needles. By the end of class every one of those sharp points has to be found. Start with a count: know how many pins you took out, and put every one back in the pincushion, point in, before you leave. A pin in a carpet or a couch cushion waits for a bare foot or a hand. A needle dropped on the floor is nearly invisible.

Never put pins or needles in your mouth, even for a second while your hands are busy. People do it without thinking, and a breath or a laugh can pull a pin into the throat. Keep the pincushion within reach and use it. When you pin fabric, push the pin in and out of the cloth so the point is buried in the fabric, and pin across the seam line, not along it, so the pins are easy to pull out as you sew.

Pass scissors closed, with the handles toward the other person and the blades in your own hand. Pass a needle stuck in a scrap of fabric or in the pincushion, never loose. Cut away from your body. If you prick your finger, stop, wash the spot with soap and water, cover it with a bandage, and tell the teacher. Do not keep sewing on light fabric with a bleeding finger.

A bent pin or needle goes in the trash, not back in the cushion; it will bend again and can snap. Snapped points get wrapped in tape before they are thrown out. These rules take about ten seconds a class. A pin in a foot takes a lot longer.

Thread a needle with a single thread, knot the tail, and bring the needle up from the back of the fabric on your pencil line. Now push the tip of the needle down through the fabric about 1/8 inch ahead, then up again 1/8 inch after that, and down again. You can load two or three stitches on the needle before you pull the thread through. That in-and-out motion is the running stitch. From the front it looks like a dashed line.

The goal is even stitches, all the same length, with the same gap between them. Beginners make the stitches grow as they speed up, and the row looks like Morse code. Slow down and watch the needle tip, not your hand. Pull the thread through until it lies flat in the cloth. If the fabric puckers, you pulled too hard; ease it back.

Where does the running stitch belong? It is fast, so it is used for gathering: sew a long running stitch along an edge, then pull the thread and the fabric bunches into soft folds, the way a skirt gathers into a waistband. It works for light seams that will not take strain and for hand quilting, where tiny running stitches hold three layers together. It is not the stitch for a seam that gets pulled every day, because the thread can slide.

End the row on the back of the fabric. Take a tiny stitch in place, pass the needle through the loop before you pull it tight, and repeat once. That is a finishing knot. Trim the thread to about a quarter inch. Now hold the row up to the light and look at the spacing. That is the first line on your practice square.

Imagine you are hemming a pair of pants and you want to try them on before you sew the hem for good. Pins would scratch and fall out. Instead you baste: sew a running stitch with stitches about half an inch long, loosely, in a thread color that stands out. It takes a minute. The hem holds, you try the pants on, and if the length is right you sew the real hem next to the basting and pull the basting out.

Basting is a placeholder. Because it will be removed, there are rules that are the opposite of normal sewing. Use a bright, contrasting thread so you can find every stitch later. Do not knot the end tightly; a small loose knot or just a backstitch is enough. Keep the stitches long and the tension loose. Do not baste exactly on the seam line, or the permanent stitches will sew right over your basting and trap it.

Basting also holds slippery or bulky layers that pins cannot manage: a zipper before it is stitched in, a sleeve eased into an armhole, two layers of thick fleece. Tailors baste pockets and collars in place to check the position before committing. The stitch is temporary, but the habit is professional. It costs a minute now and saves a seam ripper session later.

To remove basting, snip the thread every few inches and pull the short pieces out with your fingers or tweezers. Never yank a long basting thread through a finished seam; it can pull and pucker the permanent stitches. Once the basting is out, press the seam and nobody will ever know it was there.

A split seam on the side of a backpack needs a stitch that will not slide or pull apart. That is the back stitch. Bring the needle up from the back on the seam line. Take one stitch backward, about 1/8 inch, going down into the fabric. Now bring the needle up 1/8 inch ahead of where you first came up. Go back down into the hole at the end of the last stitch. Come up 1/8 inch ahead again. Each stitch goes back to meet the last one, so from the front the line is solid.

The secret is that the thread on the back of the fabric overlaps itself. Every stitch is locked by the one after it, so if one stitch breaks the seam does not unravel the way a running stitch would. It is slower than a running stitch because you pull the thread through after every single stitch, and that is exactly why it holds.

Use the back stitch for any seam that takes strain: the side seam of a bag, a split in the seat of pants, a strap, a toy that gets thrown. Keep the stitches small and even, 1/8 inch or less on medium fabric. A common mistake is skipping the backward step and going forward twice, which turns it into a running stitch with extra work. Another is coming up too far ahead, which leaves gaps in the solid line.

Use double thread for a seam that will be pulled hard. Finish with two small stitches in place on the back and trim. Compare this row to your running stitch row and tug on both. The running stitch slides. The back stitch does not.

Two felt pieces need to be joined edge to edge to make a small pouch. Line the edges up and hold them together. Bring the needle up through both layers near the edge, from the back, so the knot is hidden between the layers. Now carry the thread over the top of the edge and push the needle through both layers from the back again, about 1/8 inch along. Pull. Repeat. Each stitch wraps over the edge on a slant. That is the whip stitch.

The whip stitch is fast and it holds edges together well, but it is visible: the slanted stitches lie on the outside of the seam. On felt, fleece and other fabrics that do not fray, the visible stitches are part of the look. Craft projects, stuffed toys and appliqué use it on purpose, often in a contrasting color.

Keep the stitches the same distance from the edge and the same distance apart, or the slant will wobble. If you pull too hard the edge rolls over and the seam gets a lump. If you go too far from the edge you use extra thread and the join gets bulky. On a woven fabric that frays, the whip stitch alone is not enough for a seam that takes strain; the threads of the fabric can pull out under the stitches.

The whip stitch is also the quick fix for a small hole in a knit sock or the closing stitch on a stuffed toy after you fill it. Bring the edges together, whip over them, knot inside, and done. It is the stitch you reach for when the join must be quick and does not have to be invisible.

Look at the hem of a good pair of dress pants: you can barely find a stitch. That is a slip stitch, sometimes called a blind stitch. Fold the hem up and press it. Anchor the knot inside the fold where it cannot be seen. Slide the needle along inside the fold for about 1/4 inch and bring it out. Now pick up just one or two threads of the outer fabric, right beside where the needle came out. Slide the needle back into the fold and travel another 1/4 inch. Repeat.

From the outside you see only a tiny dot where the needle caught the outer fabric. From the inside you see the thread traveling hidden in the fold. Most of the thread is never visible, which is why the stitch is nearly invisible. The trade-off is strength: a slip stitch is not for seams that take strain. It is for hems, for closing the opening in a pillow after stuffing, and for attaching linings.

The two mistakes that show are picking up too much of the outer fabric, which makes a visible dash on the front, and pulling too tight, which makes a dimple on every stitch. Catch one or two threads, not a bite of cloth, and let the thread lie easy. Match the thread color to the fabric; on the front the color is what hides the dot.

Practice on your square by folding one edge over 1/2 inch, pressing it, and slip stitching along it. Then flip the square and look at the front. If you can see a row of dots and nothing more, you have it. If you can see dashes, you caught too much.

The edge of a fleece blanket, a felt bookmark or an appliqué shape often has a row of stitches that look like little fence posts joined by a rail along the edge. That is the blanket stitch. Hold the fabric with the edge toward you. Bring the needle up from the back, right at the edge, so the knot is hidden. Push the needle down through the fabric about 1/4 inch in from the edge and 1/4 inch along, but before you pull it through, catch the loop of thread under the needle tip. Pull. The thread hooks around itself at the edge, forming one post and one piece of rail.

Repeat: down 1/4 inch in and 1/4 inch along, thread under the needle, pull. The posts stand up from the edge and the rail runs along it. Even spacing is the whole game, so many sewers mark dots along the edge first with a fabric pencil. The posts should be the same height and the same distance apart.

The blanket stitch does two jobs. On a raw edge of fleece or wool it keeps the edge neat and adds a border. Around an appliqué, a shape sewn onto a background, it holds the shape down and outlines it. Done in a thick, colorful thread it becomes decoration. Common mistakes: forgetting to catch the loop under the needle, which turns the stitch into a plain whip stitch, and pulling so hard the rail cuts into the edge.

Turning a corner: at the corner, make three stitches into the same hole, fanning them out like the spokes of a wheel. Then continue along the next edge. Finish by taking the last stitch to the back and knotting it. Hold your practice square up. If the edge has a clean line of posts and a straight rail, you have it.

Cut a strip of woven cotton and rub the cut edge between your fingers. Threads come loose; that is fraying. Left alone, a raw edge inside a garment can fray until the seam itself pulls apart. Before sewing machines had a zigzag, sewers protected every raw edge by hand with the overcast stitch. Bring the needle up from the back about 1/4 inch from the edge. Carry the thread over the edge and come up from the back again, about 1/4 inch along. Each stitch is a slanted wrap around the edge.

That description sounds like the whip stitch, and the hand motion is the same. The difference is the job. The whip stitch joins two pieces. The overcast stitch wraps one raw edge, or the two raw edges of a seam allowance, to hold the loose threads in place. The stitches are usually a bit longer and more evenly slanted, and they should not pull the edge tight or it will roll.

Inside a skirt you might find the seam sewn with a back stitch and then both raw edges overcast together. That is a seam finish. It is not glamorous work, and nobody sees it, but the skirt lasts years longer. On fabric that frays badly, such as loosely woven linen, make the stitches closer. On tight fabric like poplin, 1/4 inch apart is plenty.

Fleece, felt and knits do not fray, so they do not need overcasting. Wovens do. Look at the inside seams of what you are wearing: many have a machine version of this stitch, a zigzag or a serged edge with three threads. The hand overcast is the ancestor of all of them. It is the seventh row on your square.

Lay your practice square flat and look at your best row and your worst row side by side. The difference is almost always two things: stitch length and tension. Stitch length is how long each stitch is and how far apart the stitches are. Tension is how hard you pulled the thread. Neither one has a machine dial in hand sewing. Both come from your hands.

For length, choose a size for the job and keep it. Small stitches, about 1/8 inch or less, are stronger because there are more of them per inch and the fabric has more places to share the load. Long stitches, 1/4 to 1/2 inch, are faster and are right for basting and gathering. Whatever you choose, keep every stitch that length. Uneven stitches look sloppy and put more strain on the longest ones. If you struggle, draw a line and mark dots with a fabric pencil.

For tension, pull each stitch until the thread just lies flat, then stop. Too tight and the fabric puckers into ridges and the seam will not lie flat even after pressing. Too loose and the thread loops on the surface and the seam gapes when you tug it. A good test: run your finger along the seam. Ridges mean too tight. Loops you can lift with a fingernail mean too loose.

Most tension problems come from hurrying, and most length problems come from watching your hand instead of the needle tip. Slow down for the first ten stitches of any row and the rest tend to follow. Even stitches with even tension are the difference between a mend that looks like a mend and one that disappears.

A hem that was sewn without being folded and pressed first wanders up and down the leg. A seam that was never pressed sits in a lump. The habit that fixes both is pressing as you go: after each seam, before the next step, set the iron on it. Pressing is not ironing. Ironing slides the iron back and forth to remove wrinkles. Pressing lifts the iron, sets it down on the seam, holds for a few seconds, and lifts again. Sliding can stretch the fabric out of shape.

Set the iron to the setting for your fabric. Most irons mark cotton, wool, silk and synthetic settings, and the care label on the fabric or the bolt end tells you which. Too hot melts synthetics and scorches cotton. Test on a scrap first. To press a seam open, lay the seam face down, spread the two seam allowances apart with your fingers, and press along the line. To press a hem, fold it to the marked line, pin, and press the fold sharp before you stitch.

Iron safety is not optional. The plate of an iron reaches temperatures that burn skin on contact. Stand the iron on its heel when it is not in your hand. Keep the cord away from the edge of the board so nobody snags it. Never leave a hot iron face down, and never leave it on when you walk away. Unplug it at the end of the period. Steam is hot: keep your hand out of its path when you press.

The reward for pressing is precision. Pinning is easier on a pressed fold, stitches land where you aimed, and the finished project lies flat. Professionals say sewing is half pressing. On your practice square, press the slip-stitched fold and the seams, and notice how much neater everything looks.

A button sewn tight against a jacket looks fine until you try to button it. The buttonhole layer has to squeeze under the button, the fabric bunches, and the thread strains every time. The fix is a shank, a short stem of thread between the button and the fabric that leaves space for the other layer. Some buttons have a built-in shank, a loop on the back. Flat buttons with two or four holes need you to make one.

Thread a needle with a double thread about 24 inches long and knot the ends together. Mark the spot for the button, lining it up with the buttonhole while the garment is buttoned closed. Take two small stitches at the mark to anchor. Bring the needle up through one hole of the button. Lay a toothpick or a matchstick across the top of the button and sew over it, down through the second hole, into the fabric, and up again through the first hole. Repeat about six times. For a four-hole button, sew the two pairs of holes as two parallel bars or as a cross.

Now pull the toothpick out. Bring the needle up through the fabric but not through the button, so the thread comes out under the button. Wind the thread tightly around the stack of stitches under the button five or six times. That wrapped stem is the shank, and the toothpick’s thickness is now the gap. Push the needle to the back, take two or three small stitches in place, and knot. Trim the thread.

Check it: the button should stand a little off the fabric, and the buttonhole layer should slip under it with no bunching. Common mistakes are skipping the toothpick, which leaves no gap; using single thread, which wears through; and forgetting to anchor before starting, so the whole button loosens. A shanked button on double thread outlasts the garment.

Look above the zipper pull on a skirt or a pair of dress pants. There is usually a small metal hook and eye. The hook is a bent wire that sews to one side; the eye is a loop that sews to the other. When they connect, they take the strain at the top of the waistband so the zipper does not have to. Hooks and eyes are for edges that meet, not overlap. A round eye is for edges that just touch; a straight bar eye is for edges that overlap slightly.

To sew a hook, mark its place about 1/8 inch in from the edge. Put it on the inside of the garment so it will not show. Use double thread. Anchor with two stitches. Sew through each of the two rings at the base of the hook. Use small stitches all the way around the ring, like tiny whip stitches, about eight per ring. Then take two or three stitches across the neck of the hook to hold it flat. Close the garment, mark where the hook lands, and sew the eye the same way, ring by ring.

A snap has two halves: a ball and a socket. The ball half goes on the overlap side, on the inside of the top layer; the socket goes on the underlap, facing up. Line them up after sewing the ball half. Press it against the fabric, or rub a bit of chalk on it, to mark the spot. Sew each of the four holes with several small stitches, carrying the thread under the snap between holes so nothing shows on the outside.

Snaps are for overlaps with little strain: a baby’s onesie, a cuff, a pocket flap, a bag closure. They pop open under a hard pull, which is sometimes exactly the point. Hooks and eyes hold more but need two hands to open. Choose the fastener for the job, sew through every hole, and never let the thread show on the outside.

Put the pants on with the shoes you would wear with them. Stand straight. Have a partner fold the cuff up, or fold it yourself, until the bottom just touches the top of the shoe in front. Pin the fold at the front, the back and both sides. Take the pants off and lay them flat on a table. This first step is where most bad hems go wrong: people measure the pants on a hanger, and pants on a hanger are not pants on a person.

Measure the fold with a tape measure or a small ruler. Say it is 2 inches. Check it at all four pins; if it differs, the pants were not straight or the pins slipped, and you should try again. Now measure and mark the new length all the way around with tailor’s chalk or a fabric pencil, measuring 2 inches up from the old edge every inch or two. That line is the new hemline. The old hem stitches come out with a seam ripper, and the crease gets pressed flat.

A hem needs a hem allowance, the fabric that will be folded up inside. For pants and skirts, 1 1/2 to 2 inches is typical. If the fold is deeper than that, cut off the extra, leaving the allowance plus about 1/2 inch to turn under so the raw edge is hidden. If the fold is only 1/4 inch, there is not enough to work with, and you may need a different plan, such as a narrow double fold.

Fold on the marked line, press the fold sharp, then turn the raw edge under 1/2 inch and press again. Pin across the fold every two inches. Baste if the fabric is slippery. Look at the whole hem before you sew a stitch: is it even? Does it match the other leg? An uneven hem is far easier to fix now, with pins, than after it is stitched.

The hem is pressed, pinned and basted. Turn the pant leg inside out and hold it with the folded edge toward you. Thread a needle with a single thread in a color that matches the outside fabric, about 18 inches, and knot it. Hide the knot: slide the needle into the fold from the inside and bring it out at the folded edge so the knot sits inside where nobody will see it.

Now the slip stitch, the same one from your practice square. Directly across from where the thread comes out, pick up one or two threads of the outer fabric with the needle tip. Then slide the needle into the folded edge and travel about 1/4 inch inside the fold. Bring it out, pick up one or two threads of the outer fabric, slide back into the fold. Pull each stitch only until the thread lies flat. Keep going around the whole leg.

The mistakes that show on the outside are the same two as before: catching too much fabric, which makes dashes on the front, and pulling too tight, which makes dimples. On thick canvas or denim it is tempting to catch more, but one or two threads of a heavy fabric are strong enough. If the fold slips as you sew, you did not press it sharply enough; stop and press again.

When you get back to where you started, take two small stitches in place inside the fold, pass the needle through the loop to knot, and bury the tail inside the fold before you trim. Pull out the basting in short pieces. Press the hem one more time from the inside. Turn the leg right side out and look for the row of dots. If you have to search for them, the hem is done.

The seam on the inside of a hoodie sleeve has opened for about three inches. The fabric is fine; only the thread gave way. Turn the sleeve inside out and find the seam allowance, the two edges of fabric that were stitched together. Look at the original stitching line, which is still there on both sides of the gap. Your job is to sew along that same line, not to make a new one.

Pin the two layers together along the gap, right sides together, matching the original seam line. Thread a needle with double thread in a matching color and knot it. Start about 1/2 inch before the split, on top of the good stitches, and anchor with two small stitches. Then sew a back stitch along the old line, 1/8 inch stitches, all the way across the gap. Go 1/2 inch past the end of the split, over the good stitches on that side, and anchor again. The overlap is what keeps the seam from opening at the ends of your mend.

If the seam split because the fabric tore at the seam line, not just the thread, you cannot sew on the old line; there is nothing there to hold. Move the seam line in by 1/4 inch so the stitches bite into sound fabric. The garment gets a tiny bit smaller at that spot. If the raw edges have frayed, overcast them after the seam is sewn.

Turn the sleeve right side out and press the seam. Tug on it; a mended back-stitched seam should feel the same as the rest. The whole job takes about ten minutes. Most split seams are this easy, and most of them end up in the trash anyway because nobody ever showed the owner how.

A knee has worn through on a pair of jeans, a hole about the size of a quarter with thin, weak fabric around it. A seam will not fix this; there is missing fabric. It needs a patch, a piece of fabric that covers the hole and the weak area around it. Cut the patch at least one inch bigger than the hole in every direction. Denim or sturdy cotton is best; match the weight of the garment. Trim any loose threads from the hole, but do not cut the hole larger.

There are two ways to put it on. An inside patch goes underneath: turn the jeans inside out, center the patch over the hole, pin it, and sew around the edges of the patch with a back stitch or running stitch. Then turn right side out and stitch around the edge of the hole itself, catching the patch underneath, with small stitches. This shows the patch through the hole, which is the look of a lot of mended denim. An outside patch goes on top: turn the patch’s edges under 1/4 inch, press, pin it over the hole on the outside, and stitch around the edge with a blanket stitch, whip stitch or small running stitch.

Whichever you choose, the patch must be stitched on all four sides and the stitches must land on sound fabric, not the thin worn area. Use double thread for a knee. A patch stitched only at the corners flaps and tears. A patch sewn onto the thin area pulls out within a week. If the patch is on a stretchy knit, use a knit patch and a stitch that can stretch, such as a loose whip stitch, or the patch will tear away.

Contrasting patches, colorful thread and visible stitches have become a style called visible mending. Hidden patches in matching fabric are the other choice. Both keep a pair of jeans in use for another year. Press the finished patch, and check it after the first wash.

A small project, a drawstring pouch, comes with a pattern: one paper rectangle marked 8 by 11 inches, a list of materials, and six numbered steps. Read all of it before you buy or cut anything, the same way you read a whole recipe before you turn on the oven. The pattern piece tells you the shape; the instructions tell you the order; the materials list tells you what to bring.

Look at the markings on the pattern piece. "Cut 2" means you need two of this shape. A long arrow is the grainline; it should run parallel to the finished edge of the fabric, called the selvage, so the pouch does not twist. A dashed line 1/2 inch in from the edge is the seam line, and the space between it and the cut edge is the seam allowance. Small triangles called notches on the edges show which edges match up. A note might say "leave open between notches for the drawstring."

The materials list is a shopping list: 1/4 yard of cotton fabric, matching thread, 24 inches of cord or ribbon, and a safety pin for threading the cord. A quarter yard is 9 inches long by the width of the bolt, usually 44 inches, which is plenty for two 8-by-11 rectangles. Check that you own the tools: scissors, pins, needle, tape measure, chalk, iron.

Patterns for bigger projects add sizes, more pieces and a layout diagram, but the reading habit is the same. Find every piece. Count the cuts. Find the seam allowance. Read the steps in order and picture each one. A pattern read carefully is a project that goes right the first time.

Press the fabric first; wrinkles change measurements. Lay it flat, wrong side up, with the selvage straight along the table edge. Line up the pattern’s grainline with the selvage, pin the paper to the fabric, and trace around it with chalk. Or measure directly: use a ruler to mark an 8-by-11-inch rectangle with the 11-inch side parallel to the selvage, checking that the corners are square. Mark the notches. Repeat for the second piece. Cut on the chalk line with long, smooth strokes of the fabric scissors, keeping the lower blade on the table.

Place the two rectangles right sides together and pin across the seam line. Sew the two long sides and the bottom with a back stitch on the 1/2-inch seam line, using double thread, anchoring at each end. Stop sewing on both long sides at the lower notch, 1 1/2 inches from the top, leaving that gap open. Overcast the raw edges if the cotton frays. Press the seams open.

Now the casing, the tunnel the cord runs through. Fold the top edge down 1/4 inch toward the wrong side and press. Fold again 1 inch and press, so the raw edge is enclosed and the fold covers the gap you left. Pin. Stitch along the lower edge of that fold with a small running stitch or back stitch, all the way around. The gaps at the side seams are now the openings into the tunnel.

Turn the pouch right side out and press. Pin the safety pin to one end of the cord, push it into one opening, and work it all the way around and out the same opening. Knot the cord ends together. Pull, and the pouch closes. Check the seams, trim threads, and press once more. The first one takes an hour. The second one takes twenty minutes.

A pair of jeans has a split inseam. The choice is to mend it or buy new jeans. Put numbers on both. Mending: a spool of thread, about $3 in this example, which will mend twenty more things; a needle you already own; and about fifteen minutes. The cost of the mend is a few cents of thread and a quarter of an hour. Replacing: a new pair at, say, $35 in this example, plus a trip to the store, plus the time to find a pair that fits.

Not every repair wins. A hole through the seat of pants where the fabric is thin everywhere will tear again beside the patch. A zipper on a cheap jacket can cost more to replace at a tailor than the jacket did. A tailor’s hem on dress pants might run $15 to $20 in this example, which is worth it for a $90 pair and not for a $6 thrift pair, unless you do it yourself. The question each time is: how much life does the repair add, and what does it cost in money and time?

There is a third column: what you learn. The first hem takes an hour; the fifth takes twenty minutes. A person who can sew a button, hem a leg and close a seam gets years more out of every garment they own, and can say yes to the thrift-store jacket that is almost right. That skill compounds. Buying new never does.

Write the comparison down when you are unsure. Two columns, mend and replace; three rows, money, time and how long it will last. The answer is usually obvious once it is on paper, and it is usually the needle.

Picture a garbage truck. According to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, Americans generated about 17 million tons of textile waste in 2018, and around two-thirds of it went to landfills. That is clothing, sheets, towels and shoes, most of it still wearable or usable when it was thrown out. Only a small share, well under a fifth, was recycled. The rest was burned or buried.

Where does it come from? Clothes have become cheap and fast. A shirt that costs less than lunch is easy to buy and easy to toss when a seam opens or a button drops. The shirt took water to grow the cotton, energy to spin, dye and sew, and fuel to ship, and after a few wears it is in a landfill for decades. Synthetic fabrics like polyester are plastic and do not break down.

The most powerful thing a single person can do is keep clothes in use longer. Wear them longer. Mend them. Wash them in cold water and hang them to dry, which is gentler on the fibers. Hand a garment on to someone else, or to a thrift store, when it no longer fits. Buy secondhand. Buy fewer things that last. A hem and a button kept Lena’s jacket in service; that is one garment that is not on the truck.

Textiles that truly cannot be worn still have uses: rags, stuffing, insulation, and textile-recycling drop-offs run by some cities and stores. The order is the same as for every kind of waste. Reduce first, reuse and repair next, recycle last, and throw away only what is left. A needle is a tool for the second step.