mending – Team Sikel

My trusty inner tube bum bag has been in near constant use now for over a year, accompanying me on walks and bike rides and other escapes from being stuck home during a pandemic.

So I was gutted when I broke the zip. It was totally my fault: I stuffed it really full with a wispy plastic bag on top, which got caught in the zip. Instead of taking care I just tried to force it closed/open, whacking a tooth out of place. Soon the zip just came off one side.

I couldn’t just bin the bag. I’d saved the inner tubes that made it from landfill, washed and sewed them up, pairing them with a lining made from a pair of secondhand trousers. It was such a useful thing and meant a lot to me, so I decided to replace that zip.

I’d never done a zip replacement before, but thought of no better time to give it a go. As I’d constructed the bag I knew where it was attached and more or less what would need to be done to put a new one in…I thought.

I definitely learned a lot in this process (translation: some things didn’t go exactly to plan!).

Choosing a New Zip

I love the combination of inner tube and metal teeth, so I rummaged through my stash of secondhand zips for one I liked the looks of. With a lot of repairs you have a big choice: whether to try to hide the repair or show it off. I decided to ask Instagram:

Thankfully you guys chose contrasting. To be honest, I would’ve gone contrasting even if the votes had gone the other way, but it was nice to see nearly everyone agree.

When things break it’s so easy to just toss them in the bin. Repair can sometimes seem like a subversive act. I love highlighting the mends and adjustments I make to garments to make people think.

I did decide to use black thread, though. There was going to be a lot of hand stitching and I’m out of practice so I thought it might turn out a bit rough.

Taking Out The Old

I like to do my mending work in front of the telly in the evening. This time, I had some help removing the old zip from the bag. Tilly decided to keep me company.

It made things so awkward and slightly frustrating, but she’s so tiny I can’t say no! There was a point I did have to set things aside because she got very cute and demanding for a fuss.

Zips are where I start with a lot of bag making, they tend to be really sewn in there as they’re under a lot of stress. So I carefully unpicked the stitching all around the opening. It was attached along each edge – long and short – sewn twice to the lining, and stitched in along the join on the bag’s short edges.

But it didn’t take long to remove, despite Tilly’s ‘help’.

Adding the New Zip

Adding the new zip is where things started to go wrong. For some reason I got it in my head to sew through all the layers at once. Maybe I thought it’d be faster and less hassle?

I was so wrong.

I used a double sided sticky tape (designed for sewing) to attach the zip to all the layers. If I were to do this again, I’d start with the lining only, and then go back and stitch through the exterior as well. This mimics how I sewed the bag together to begin with, so I’m not sure why I went rogue here.

Doing both sides at once meant I needed to keep an eye on a lot of different seams, but it did come together eventually.

While the tape can be frustratingly sticky, it can also shift against the inner tubes. I found it moved as I worked, so I had to undo some stitches periodically. Eventually I also put some sewing clips (a great alternative to pins for inner tubes), which helped a great deal, but there are still some areas where it’s a bit wonky.

All of the seams were resewn by hand. This opening is too small and fiddly to work through on my current machine (at least when the bag is completely assembled), and I wanted to go through the existing holes in the inner tubes to reduce damage – you can see them really well in the photo above. I reassembled with a quick running stitch to get everything in place, and then came back again later to fill in the gaps.

I’m really glad I chose black thread as I somehow managed to turn a straight line wonky, even going through the original holes as much as possible. It’s a talent!

Another downside to doing everything at once was it created a flap of lining. I was worried it might get caught in the zip, so I eventually went back later and did a (more or less) invisible stitch line in red to tack it to the zip tape:

I also reinforced the short edges of the bag with a few lines of stitching through those same holes. That’s probably the part of the bag that’s under the most strain, so I wanted to be sure it wouldn’t come undone.

The End Result & Summary

Despite all the stress I’m so happy to have my bum bag back! I really missed it for the week or two it was out of commission.

I’m so happy I’d chosen a black lined bag for myself, so I was able to use black thread on the repair. Some of my stitching looks ok on the outside, but really dodgy on the inside.

If you’re not the one using it day to day I doubt you’d notice. And it hasn’t impacted the usability of the bag at all. If I ever have to do this again, I’ve learned some valuable lessons I can put to good use doing a better job.

So if you’re thinking about doing this yourself:

Decide what look you want: contrasting or matching (matching thread is always a good choice for hand stitching if you’re out of practice)
Take your time – Don’t try to do everything at once!
Make sure your pins/clips/tape/glue are secure
Be proud of you work and the fact that you’re saved something from landfill!
Try to ignore any little mistakes, no one will notice them but you!

And if you’re interested in your own bum bag, you can find the rest of my limited stock here. While I love the design, I’m on a pause making any new ones until I get an industrial sewing machine.

Sometimes sewing can feel like a super power. It can take something sentimental but unwearable and turn it into something useful again.

I have a few smallish stacks of clothes waiting alterations and mending. I’m determined to make the most of my existing clothes after a recent weight loss:

The alternation pile contains some clothes I’ve made myself and am very proud of, some sentimental pieces, and a few purchased items of clothes I love the fabric of (or otherwise know won’t sell if I donate it). While I have a number of garments I’ll be rehoming responsibly, it would be hard for me to get rid of these.

I finally tackled the first piece yesterday: the pair of moustache trousers you can see poking out towards the bottom of the Alteration pile.

Apologies in advance for a lack of ‘before’ and ‘during’ pictures. I originally thought this was going to be a simple alternation not really worthy of a blog post, then was too in the zone to stop and document. More on that later.

The Story Behind the Moustache Trousers

I bought these trousers while travelling in 2014. I was in Turkey, staying at the home of a British couple for a few weeks to help out on their smallholding. They were a minibus ride from Yalova- the closest city and where we did a weekly shop at a farmer’s market.

I spotted the trousers while on that minibus, hanging up outside of a small shop. I bought a pair despite my lack of Turkish (I think I only picked up the words for coffee, tea, one and ten during my time there). They weren’t especially comfortable from the get go, but I wore them now as then as the viscose was cool in the incredibly hot Turkish June.

They survived with me all this time, and still bring back memories of that trip, so I couldn’t bear to part with them.

A Simple Mend… or not

I picked them as my first alteration as I thought it would be a simple case of just tightening up the elastic in the waistband, as well as repairing the slight bodge job I’d done in mending the trousers a few years ago when the original elastic in the waistband had gone.

I don’t have great pictures of it- but the original elastic was sewn into the front seam, a scrap of it was still there as I’d cut out the elastic around the stitching to make my life a bit easier at the time. I’d also just stitched new elastic in around that seam (the white stitching is visible just above the finger on the left), creating a casing just as big as the elastic I was inserting.

All I wanted to do was make proper casing and hopefully reuse that elastic.

Thankfully I was able to, but when testing out how much to tighten up the elastic, I realised the trousers weren’t comfortable at all. Further investigation led to a dodgy crotch curve. It’s hard for me to explain because I’ve only made a few pairs of trousers that fit well – but I think this comparison might help:

The shape the seam is where your pelvis goes. Basically these moustache trousers left no room for my bum. I either got a massive wedgie wearing them (in GBSB terminology: hungry bum) or couldn’t walk properly because I had to wear them so low.

This picture of me wearing them might help- the waistband should be level:

Not shown: the massive wedgie these trousers gave me

I could try and fix the problem or use the fabric with a new pattern. Alteration was the easiest option so I dug through my stash of scraps and went ahead with the only spare viscose I had on hand: a blue and white striped dress that was a bit too worn to donate to a charity shop. I figured I could get a scrap of tan viscose at some point to make the mend more subtle the next time I was in a charity or fabric shop, already knowing the shape/size patch I needed from this test.

I opened up the inseam from the crotch to about level with my knee on both legs, and then roughly measured the gap in the crotch seam that needed filling to make the waistband level again. Then I put the trousers on my work table and traced around the triangular space created when I made that same length gap in the seam. Last step was sewing in patches from the stripey dress.

Or – look what I added in this pic:

Was this going to work? No idea, but I figured at worst I could sew it back up the way it was.

The End Result

Hooray! It worked, and it wasn’t even that noticeable during normal wear. And while the thought that I could swap it out at some point convinced me to give it a go, now that it’s there, I’m going to keep the stripes. I love it. I’d even wear the trousers outside with a big ol’ badge that says ‘ Ask me about my stripey gusset!’

I tried explaining what I did to my husband but he had no idea what I was talking about. He commented though that he’s not sure he’s ever seen me happier. Hyperbole: for sure. But I won’t deny how good it felt to know I fixed these! They’re not perfect by any means, but an elastic waistband and loose drapey fabric hide so many sins.

And it reminded me of another power of mending: it adds to the history of the piece. By the time it’s no longer wearable, I’ll probably be able to write a book about this pair of moustache trousers.

Here’s a little twirl:

If I look a little groggy in that picture it’s because I woke up about 20 mins before! I wanted to get the video before I forgot.

There’s still lots more that needs alteration, and next time I’ll do my best to get before and during pictures!

Tag: mending

Bum Bag Zip Replacement