Category Archives: FLAX

Closet Surgery (Minor but Satisfying)

Another quiet win for the rotary cutter.

Lately I’ve been on an alteration kick. The kind where you start looking at every piece of clothing and think, How can I make this better for me? This black FLAX tee had been hanging in my closet for two years, never worn. Too long, sleeves too awkward. Every time I tried it on, I’d sigh and hang it back up.

But this week, armed with my rotary cutter and a bit of growing confidence, I hemmed it and shortened the sleeves. Five shirts in, I think it’s safe to say I’m obsessed. Each one feels like a small victory. I already buy my clothes secondhand (mostly), and I just didn’t know I could then make them mine.

Now the tee feels simple and wearable. Not a new piece, clearly, but a reclaimed one. Proof that a little fine-tuning (and a lot of enthusiasm) goes a long way.

Look out, closet — here I come.

(before and after photos here)

Before
After

A Shirt Reimagined

Last weekend, I put on my big girl pants and faced down my sewing machine. I’d had this FLAX shirt for two years that I had bought from Ebay — soft, natural linen that I adored — but it was just too much shirt. Too long, too loose, sleeves halfway to my fingertips. One might even say I got a little obsessed with the idea of making it mine.

But something in me has shifted this year. I’m dressing for myself now — not for what’s expected, not for what feels “right” on paper, but for how I actually move through my day. And I want the clothes that I’ve chosen, especially those made with care and ethics like FLAX, to work with my body, not against it (a brand in upstate NY I love for its simple shapes and long life—more on that another time).

The Alteration

So, I decided to be brave and alter it.
With a little help from my creative muse — May Calico (that’s what I call ChatGPT when we’re in the sewing room together) — I learned how to shorten the hem and sleeves. One of May’s best tips was to use tissue paper under the linen, between the fabric and the feed dogs of the sewing machine. It made all the difference: the fabric glided smoothly, no puckering, no stretching.

Now it’s my shirt.
Same linen, same soul — but shaped for me.

This small act — taking scissors and thread to something I’d been afraid to “mess up” — reminded me that making things isn’t just about creativity or sustainability. It’s about courage. About honoring my body for what it is today and reshaping what doesn’t serve me — in linen, and in life. I don’t need to fit the clothes. The clothes can fit me.

Before

After