Subversion in the classroom, one pair of pants at a time.

When you become a teacher, you know you are walking in the well-worn footsteps of the great and good (and not-so-good) who have come before you. You are well aware of the heavy responsibility of moulding the minds of the young of today, soon to become the adults of tomorrow. You are determined to not destroy any of those young minds, while at the same time hoping to actually, you know, teach them something.

I have made my own clothes for the longest time. As a teenager my mother gave us a clothes allowance of $15 a week - enough for the basics but not enough for anything substantial, like a coat. It’s OK, we live on the east coast of Australia - it’s not child abuse to not have a coat. Except I wanted a coat, so I decided to make one. I hadn’t really made anything before, beyond an apron in Textiles class at school, but since when had that stopped me? This was in the mid 80s, well before YouTube videos we available to teach us everything, and I was in Year 10 at high school. I bought a pattern and some woollen fabric and just went for it. It wasn’t perfect by any means - the slash pockets were a bit dodgy - but it fitted and I loved it. I even wore it to school sometimes.

While the buying of school uniforms and underwear were taken care of by mum, I was a somewhat subversive teenager and, after actually reading the school policy, I discovered that only the colour of the uniform was specified, not the style. I was (and am) all for expressing my individuality, and so the next thing I made was my own uniform pants. Cropped, with big pockets out of navy jumbo corduroy. Remember, it was the 80s. I found out later that my father, sparked by the outrage of the cost of our school uniform dresses (three girls, lots of dresses), was the first man to do the sewing course at our local technical college in order to make our dresses himself. While he died when I was eight, it seems something of his can-do attitude rubbed off, as well as the lingering effects of my seamstress grandmother.

Flash forward 35 odd years later and I am back in that same school as a teacher. I have been sewing steadily on and off since those times and now wear, not only the pants I’ve made myself, but also lacy shawls, jumpers knitted with yarns I dyed myself, silver earrings and socks, all made by me. The reactions I get from the students are wonderful. Most are amazed that it isn’t rocket science to make clothes. I feel that in this age of fast fashion, even the idea of making clothes is foreign to many young people. I knit while I’m on playground duty: socks on three circular needles, with the ball of yarn in one of my voluminous pockets (because hand-made pockets are the best!).

As adults, we model behaviour. As a teacher, I model sustainability and a craft sensibility. In 2019 I crocheted a three metre whale from only jeans donated by the school community, stuffed with pillows, quilts and cushions from the local op shop (thrift store). That whale was snoozed on by students in the school library, where I worked, and was tied to the roof of a ute leading the school boat in the local whale festival parade. Holy hell, that whale was heavy! We estimated it weighed about 30kg in the end. After the new principal evicted the poor creature, it was lugged home in the back of our station wagon where it was been (mostly) unravelled, awaiting a new life as a rag rug.

I have repaired the uniforms of students who had unfortunate accidents at school, or who were taken by surprise by their growing bodies, and have worn pants made from several old band tour T-shirts to show how old clothes can be restyled and repurposed. During the same-sex marriage vote a few years ago, I deliberately (subversive again) adorned my computer, clothes, watch, and pencil case with rainbows. The idea was to normalise the concept of relationships other than heterosexual ones, and indeed, it sparked valuable conversations. I am a casual teacher and often the students don't know your name: I was called "Miss Rainbow", which is fine by me. Some of the bolder students would ask if I was gay, to which I have several replies: no, however I support everyone regardless of their sexuality. No, I just like rainbows. No, colour makes me happy. My newest pants have large jigsaw pieces in the colours of the rainbow on them. I did not realise that is the symbol for an autism organisation, although several students have now pointed that out and are obviously pleased by the representation, however accidental.

I've even appeared on TV in clothes I've made myself, including game shows and an ad currently running in my area. I made costumes worn by my husband and daughter in a feature film, and a dress worn by myself and my breast-feeding body double in a short film (my daughter was too old for the part of the baby, so we used his real mum).

I don't do all this for "teaching moments", although those moments spontaneously occur and are seized upon. I do it because I don't like the styles and colours of clothes in the shops. I do it for my own amusement. I do it so I don't look the same as everyone else. I do it to demonstrate individuality and skill. I do it from necessity. I love to teach, and I love to learn. Next up is dusting off my spinning wheel and my jewellery making tools, probably not for the same project but you never know! Inspiration strikes in the strangest ways.