INVISIBLE MENDING OF GARMENTS, LACES, OR EMBROIDERIES
Most people are aware that there are tailors or others who are such artists in mending that they can sew up a rent “in almost anything” so skilfully that the tear cannot be perceived. I have myself seen this done so admirably in fine black cloth that not only was there no sign of a tear perceptible, but none was manifest after long wearing the garment. This nicety is partly due to skill, but there is also a method in it. Such mending is specially shown in Italy by Jewesses in repairing valuable old laces, embroideries, and the like. As a very large proportion of those who buy and sell such goods are Jews, it is but natural that their wives and female friends should be specially employed in mending. The process which they employ is as follows:—
“Thread a needle with one of your own hairs, then draw the edge of the rent or tear together in this manner, darning it, as it were, very finely and carefully, for it is in this that the whole art consists.
“After this take a piece of cloth as near like to the stuff you wish to mend as you can obtain. Lay this piece on the rent so as to cover it, then damp it slightly, and press it down with a hot iron until the surface looks quite even.”
It may here be observed that, firstly, the thinner the thread used, so that it be only strong enough to hold, the less probability is there that the repair will show. For this purpose, for extremely delicate mending a human hair is almost invisible; for most work silk thread will answer. It is, however, more likely to cut through the edge than a hair, because the hair is more elastic.
Secondly, it may be observed that the so-called darning is really a kind of invisible weaving, and not a sewing together or a stitching close of edges, which latter, as it always puckers up or rises, must show the line of repair. The darning has its strength of attachment afar off, not close to the edges; it makes, as it were, a kind of network or a weaving together of the cloth—that is, the cloth is woven again into one piece by an invisible thread which hides itself in the thicker fabric. The laying down of a cloth of precisely the same texture as that mended, and then ironing it, is very ingenious, because one of a different kind would produce a different impression.
The friend from whom I received the above, Miss Roma Lister, adds that the Jewesses do this kind of work very well, but ask a franc or twenty-five sous for mending the smallest rent. However, when the torn shawl is once finished you cannot see where the hole has been.
Somewhat allied to this is the patient German method of mending stockings by reknitting; also that of spreading strong flexible glue on a patch of chamois. This is laid under the rent, the edges being carefully reunited over it. I would here suggest that if the tear be first carefully darned, even with human hair or finest silk, and the gummed leather then applied to the reverse, the mending would endure for a much longer time.
There is a stitch known in Germany as Kettenstich, or chain-stitch—though it is not that which is generally known among us as the “German chain-stitch.” It is peculiarly long and strong, and will hold together the edges of even soft leather, for which reason it is generally used in Turkey and Russia to sew together the many-coloured pieces of leather such as we see in Kasan work—slippers and boots—and cushions from Constantinople. This is a valuable stitch for close, invisible mending. It is allied to the lock-stitch of the sewing-machine.
A great variety of fabrics can be carefully adjusted and drawn together over a piece of strong, glazed muslin (of the same colour) covered with waterproof glue—e.g., indiarubber or glue and rubber cement—so that the mending will not be apparent. This process is very applicable to loose skirts, or to any garments on which there is no such severe pull, as, e.g., trousers or coat-sleeves. To effect these as well as all other repairs perfectly it will be necessary to experiment a few times. Unfortunately nearly all amateurs without exception make no experiment till it is necessary to repair something, and then, because they very naturally botch it, find fault with the recipe. Yet, strangely as it may sound, there are many cases in which mending or making fabrics can be executed far more neatly with a very strong cement, such as that of mastic and sturgeon’s bladder, than with needle and thread, the former actually requiring less margin to hold than the average width of a seam, for the least possible overlap suffices to bind where the adhesive is strong. This process of mending is little known, probably because there has been hitherto very little general knowledge of the immense strength and tenacity of certain cements, which have, indeed, only been discovered of late. For all ordinary mending, in fact, glue with glycerine, or glue and indiarubber solution in benzole, will answer as well as the far more expensive Turkish or Diamond cement.
If the reader will only reflect that a large proportion of all black and glossy silks are heavily gummed, sometimes up to their own weight, it will be understood that there can be no substance with which they can be more appropriately mended than with cement—a fact well known to many who employ postage-stamps or black court-plaster to heal their rents; but as this is generally very expensive, and as any old silk and glue or gelatine, or dextrine, answer just as well, the latter had better be considered.
There is much weaving of the most exquisite fabrics done in the East, and even among savages, almost entirely by hand; that is to say, the threads are simply attached to a rod, while the woof is worked in with a needle. Most fabrics can be mended by an analogous process, which is a remaking the cloth. Much depends on the proper finishing or dressing the surface by laying on it a piece of cloth and ironing it.