Humans logo

Running with scissors

A simple act of defiance shapes my relationship with scissors.

By Yvette Rashawn EstimePublished 3 years ago 3 min read
Like
Hand tied raffia requires constant trimming with scissors.

Standing in front of my mother’s large dresser, I sweated in the summer heat in a large apartment in Harlem, Manhattan. My pair feet stick to the floor as a move to my toes to get what would be my first use of a pair of scissors. Of course, I have used scissors before but they were the safety ones, light, plastic and took a lot of effort to cut paper. These scissors though were heavy, a weight that tingled with purpose. The purpose was to teach my sister that she wasn’t the only one who deserved new things. Yes, I planned to give a certain Barbie a haircut. Unfortunately, my mom came in and I lost my nerve. Still, this became my relationship with scissors, a relationship steeped in defiance and rebellion.

Years later, as an awkward size 12 teen, I picked up a pair of real scissors again. It was just the start of alternative music and the clothing trends to go with them were just being shaped by the musicians pioneering the new style. It was the 90s and the rise of grunge. My mother had us exchanged our NY apartment for the humid heat of Florida and as the sweat beaded down my back, I thought of ways to make myself as cool as the outsiders I admired. So I went to Joann’s and picked up my own pair of scissors, a tie dye kit and some patches. I remember going to 579 and Wet Seal the next day to buy clothes worthy of sacrifice (or at least priced low enough not to feel guilty for destroying them). I wanted for my mom to go to work and my sister to run along with her friends to start my experiment.

I took all my frustrations out on a jean jacket, a few white tees and a tank top as I thought how it was okay not to fit in. I wielded the scissors liberally; wanting to change the clothes as much as I wanted to change my life. I wanted to cut away all the ugly parts and create something different if not better. The frustrations of being a friendless teen and a magnet for bullies but somehow the music made it all okay. Originality over conformity; it was okay to be different. That evening with the scissors, an evening of random destruction then creation, melted away all my insecurities.

I picked up scissors for many reasons over the years. I had a love affair with paper arts, and later crochet. Each time I started a project with a pair of scissors in my hand; an idea in my mind. I learned the power of scissors. They were tools of destruction. They ripped through fabric, paper and all allow for you to repurpose them; shape them into something new. So when my sister asked me to make a Halloween costume for her younger daughter, who was too small to fit conventional costumes, for a contest, I said sure.

I have never sewn anything in my life. Still, I bought a sewing machine, some ribbon and a pattern. The costume was a fairy and it kept coming apart because at the time I did not know you had to adjust the tension on the machine. So I took a pair of scissors and a needle and thread with me. As we drove to the contest, I stitched the costume in the places it need, snipping lose ends with the scissors. In the end, my niece won that contest and thus became my love affair with fashion.

To this day, when I pick up a pair of scissors, those feelings of rebellion return, I toss the rules (trends, construction and fit) of fashion out the window and set on making something new. It all started with a pair of scissors, a yearning to belong and wanting to create something new.

humanity
Like

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.