Interviews|September 2025
Swedish tailor, craftswoman and author Kerstin Neumüller explains how mending your own clothes can become a tool for empowerment and change.
Repairs have always been part of the language of denim. They extend the lifespan of a cherished garment while adding a personal layer to the existing fabric, transforming rips, tears and wear into artworks. Once a natural necessity, the craft of mending is now a conscious and playful choice – one that can offer a sense of agency as well as beauty.
‘You’ll also notice that clothes made from genuine materials actually get better with time, not worse. They’re worth holding on to, and you eventually establish a bond with them. Repairing your own clothes strengthens that relationship and can even give the garments new meaning. But I think it’s bigger than just clothing. It’s about establishing and manifesting yourself as someone who can change and influence your surroundings – proving you’re a competent person who knows how to take care of yourself, someone with more solutions to a problem than consuming. We’ve been taught that’s the way to solve things; we pay someone else to do it for us. But here’s a first step in the opposite direction: “I can do this on my own.”’
Sometimes, of course, ‘mending’ simply means that a broken or worn-out garment can keep being used. You fix a hole in the trousers you wear for chopping wood with a patch and a bit of glue, and they last another season – no drama, the end. That’s why patchwork and crude mending are part of the language of denim but not of fine cashmere jumpers or dress shirts. Jeans are workwear: practical, not formal, so repairing them was never a big deal. If you asked your mum to fix your evening dress, she might say no – can’t do it. But a pair of jeans? No problem.
Denim is also – still – bound to youth culture and casual fashion. The do-it-yourself values of the hippie movement still echo, and fading and signs of wear remain intrinsic to the denim world. You have to wear your jeans for a long time to develop their characteristic nuances. And just when they’re at their most beautiful and comfortable, they start to fall apart. Pushing your clothes to that level of wear is unique to denim – and naturally creates a need for repairs.
‘The influence from old Japanese techniques like boro and sashiko has certainly helped revive the interest in visual mending in recent years. Japanese culture resonates so well with our longing for provenance and authenticity. I also hope to see similar mending traditions from other cultures, such as Indian kantha textiles, gain wider recognition in the wake of the current trend,’ says Kerstin Neumüller, whose latest book, co-authored with Swedish–Japanese artist Takao Momiyama, is dedicated to sashiko mending.
‘People are drawn to the playful aesthetic of visible mending. I think that’s where much of the appeal lies. Many of us might remember an angry needlework teacher insisting that everything must be perfect – that your project has to look as neat and clean on the backside as on the face of the fabric. That kind of pressure can make you feel there’s no point in even trying; it’s too complicated. Visual mending is the opposite: approachable and permissive – anything goes, everyone can join in. It brings a fun, positive energy to handicraft that’s more inviting to the beginner. All you need is thread, a needle and a patch of beautiful fabric, and your stitches can even become a little embroidery. There’s a lot of freedom and playfulness in that approach.’
Over time, mending can spark a wider curiosity. A simple repair might lead to new skills, and the question shifts from ‘Can I fix this?’ to ‘What else can I do?’ Not every project needs to be a bold fashion statement – sometimes the patch is loud and proud, other times discreet and practical – but each repair opens the door to a more hands-on, self-reliant way of living.