A tiny hole on the foot of my left sock, my toe starting to peek through, the fibers of the sock seeming to barely hang on by a thread. When did this hole form? What shoe of mine rubbed against the threads until they tore? Where did these socks come from?

The Oxford Dictionary defines memory as “[countable/uncountable] your ability to remember things” and the Webster Dictionary defines it as “the capacity for or the act of remembering, or the thing remembered.” For the sake of this exploration I think a further understanding of the term is needed in its relation to cloth and material culture. Memory, as I am using it, retains the basic sentiments of the dictionaries definition. However, in place of a human or animal’s memory stored within the folds of the brain, I am exploring a physical form of memory that settles within the fibers of cloth on both a macro and micro scale. This physical memory can take the form of creases, staining, bunching, tearing, mending, repurposing and many other ways as well. All of these things help to create the feel and look of a textile and even offer someone a way to participate in the life and history of a textile. These interactions with cloth can cause the creation of a physical memory imprinted onto the material, whether international or unintentional. Although this type of formation of memory can happen on a variety of different types of textile, the main subjects of my investigations will be on memory stored within garments or items of the home.

Creasing / Bunching

The first form of imprinted memory is one caused by manipulating cloth in a way that creates lasting creases or bunches on the surface of the fabric. Though this type of creasing may be able to be pressed out of the cloth, the individual micro fibers will always retain some form of memory of this type of strain.

This type of imprinted physical memory is one caused by manipulating the cloth in a way that creates lasting creases or bunches to form on the surface of the fabric. This can happen unintentionally through folding, storing, or wearing of cloth, but in the case with my first object example, this process is created intentionally as a way to resist dye a piece of cloth through a process called shibori. Shibori is a Japanese dyeing technique traditionally involving clamping folded cloth between two pieces of shaped flat wooden planks. The cloth that's left exposed will then be able to absorb the color in the dye bath. Another method of shibori consists of creating a predesigned pattern through the process of tying tiny pinched bunches of the cloth with thread. This gives the fabric a pucked and bumpy surface as the thread acts as a resist.

Through shibori this cloth has been given the three dimensional quality of a uniform mountainous landscape. Running a hand over the surface each peak stands up on its own stiffly and confidently, the memory of its now cut shibori ties engraved strongly within the cloth. On closer, magnified observation this impact on the cloth can be made even clearer.

Looking at this sample through varying degrees of magnification, one can observe the intensity of the deep valleys and towering peaks created in the cloth’s surface. The individual warp and weft fibers have been molded and shaped through human intervention to take on this new form. Examples of the creation of object and material memory in the form of creasing and bunching can take many forms, some not quite as intense an example as shibori, but non the less impactful on the forming of a cloth’s personal narrative and history.

In these three examples creasing takes shape in both intentional and unintentional ways. The Spanish surplice offers an example of laboriously created pleating alongside more natural creasing and pleating created through the age and storage life of the garment.

Soiling / Staining / Abrasion

A spill, a scuff, or a fiber reaching its breaking point, this category looks at the often unintentional impacts one can have on a cloth and the causing the it’s form to shift and change.

I have chosen a couple items to represent two different extremes of these terms. The first is a Three Panel Textile from Southwest China from 1900-1960. This cloth has much staining throughout, which helps lends itself over to the imaginings of the life it has led since its creation and the interactions with other beings that have been saved within its fibers

The three panels of this piece were stitched together by hand, joining the seams together with a visible stitch. When unfolded, the entirety of this piece is quite large with stains speckling the surface. Along the edges of the cloth small tears and frays decorate the border.

A stain or a tear when looked at under the microscope begins to take the form of a layer, mimicking the overshot weft in the above images. The stain and the tear do their own work of creating and breaking pattern and repetition.

The object I have chosen to pair with this Miao Textile is this knit wool pair of socks from Iran.

These particular socks hold memory in a very different way than the Miao Textile. Since they have never been worn, they are lacking the physical imprint of the wearer’s foot on the sole, the weakened fibers from pulling them on over the heel, and any friction from being inside of a shoe. Their material memory appears in a different way. Since we don’t have marks from use (save for natural aging and wear from being handled in the Textile Resource Center) our attention falls on the marks left by the person who actually made these socks and the memory of their creation. When viewing this object under magnification small moments are collected, displayed, and twisted into the wool itself.

When viewed under magnification it becomes clear that the white wool is not quite as self explanatory as it may seem to the naked eye. Where the material memory in this piece shines is truly at this level. Although they may be tiny, each of these tiny dyed fragments of fibers have wound their way into the yarn that was spun for these socks; picking up fragments throughout its life.

Mending / Repurposing

Memory creates itself through the processes of mending and repurposing textile items by the collaboration between the body, wear to the cloth, and the bringing together of material from other sources as a way to repair or rebuild. When something we own has become worn through our usage and dependance on it, time and intention given to the time during continuous mending instills and cements the users own imprint further into the makeup of the cloth. Once something has become used beyond repair, or the creation of another item becomes necessary, dismantling and deconstructing one piece in order to create a new one also adds to this layering or stacking of memory.

The piece I have selected to demonstrate this form of memory is an obi, a sash used to tie around the center of the body and belt a Kimono, made with a technique called Sakaori. Sakiori is a weaving technique created out of necessity in order to use up scraps from previous cloth, as well as add warmth and structure to the new cloth being woven. Old clothing or fabric houseware items are torn or cut into thin strips and then wound and woven like threads into the new warp on the loom. This technique has been practiced since the 18th century when new fabric was costly or scarce as a way to get as much use out of cloth items as possible.

To me, this example has multiple lines of memory woven into one final piece. Each of the fabric scraps that were used to form the weft were each at different times made, used, and then painstakingly repurposed. Now all of these fabric scraps are organized to form a new whole, which will take on different responsibilities as this particular item on clothing.

Imitation Memory

For my own personal research and experimentation with material memory I have thought about what it means for memory to be communicated and held within the cloth and additionally what it means when something purely suggests memory or interaction. For me I think about clothing that is sold pre-distressed: whiskering and tearing on denim jeans, worn out looking hats, hoodies, distressed leather products. While these items can be very visually appealing, I think it’s rather funny to think about the act of implying a body that never existed on a piece of clothing. In the case of raw denim, through wearing the jeans your body’s own movements and activities work through the indigo dye and wear the actual fibers of the cotton, forming to your body. A pre-distressed and faded pair of jeans almost acts as a portrait of someone who never existed, an outline or a trace. Even if an item doesn’t conform to the body in the same way that raw denim does throughout years of wear and use, other markers of this human interaction can take from in the place of stains or seemingly unintentional markings. In order to further understand this idea of imitation memory within cloth I have experimented with creating my own cloth that displays this form of imitation.

For this piece, after warping I spread out the length of the threads and hand painted stains on their surface. Once the staging was complete I washed and dried by threads before dressing the loom. After the weaving was completed I patterned and sewed a button up specifically for my woven cloth yardage.

The results were a shirt that was stained and impeded with a memory before it even became a shirt. No one has worn this shirt long enough to place any of their own created memories into it’s fibers, but are the stains I made really a form of falsification? In reference to a person wearing and using the shirt, yes, but the stains are still records of my own actions and intentions placed on the fibers.

Wicking Studies

In order to better understand how fiber physically takes in these memories I have conducted a series of experiments. These experiments included testing how wine was absorbed into three different cloth fibers: cotton, wool, and silk. Thinking about a woven cotton shirt, a wool knit sweater, and a smooth silk tie, I decided to use wine as my staining fluid. I felt that wine was a liquid that frequently comes into contact with these fibers. As cotton, wool, and silk have been used in the creation of clothing throughout history I thought it fitting to group them together in these studies. 

Each fiber reacted to the wine quite differently and absorbed the liquid at different rates. In order to capture the results of this experiment I sat with the cloth and periodically took photos until the liquid had been fully absorbed into its surface.

Conclusion

When actions left by humans leave marks or traces on cloth in the form of a stain, a tear, or crease, we are working in collaboration with one another to create physical representations of our existence. When these two forces come together to leave a mark a shared history is formed. In the case of mending or the repurposing of cloth, an action similar to that of a writing practice emerges. Writing, re-writing, erasing, and re-writing again. In this way the collected memories and moments shift along with their material as their purpose and being changes along with the job they are filling. Through this type of awareness we are able to shift our attention to the everyday interactions we have with cloth and begin to reexamine what we think of as sacred or special in our everyday lives. 

Although with this research and personal exploration I am only beginning to scratch the surface of what memory making in collaboration with cloth can look like, I feel that this research has helped lay the foundation of what is to come.