Vade mecum

When I used to go to concerts regularly, I had a portable sewing kit. Theoretically, that meant I was able to repair any of the musicians involved. Soprano snapped a suspender? Bass burst a button? No problem. I was there. Except... somehow, it was never like that. The only person who ever did seem to need repairs was d'Artagnan.

It is not easy being a naturally rather scruffy sort of person when your vocation involves having to look immaculate on stage a lot of the time, often in full evening dress; and d'Artagnan is, I have to say, a terminally tatty tenor. I personally have no problem with this. That slightly chaotic air is all part of his charm. Nonetheless, he is very professional and very conscientious, so he always does his best to show up on stage looking neat and polished. You can tell it doesn't come at all naturally, though. Fine evening suits which behave perfectly well on anyone else mysteriously sprout loose ends of thread as soon as they get onto him. Or wonky buttons. Or sometimes it's just that his bow tie revolves or his hair sticks out at odd angles. Or... well, you get the picture. He has the most glorious voice but he's Entropy Central.

Anyway, the portable sewing kit vanished along with almost everything else, and last night I decided it was high time I replaced it. I ended up having a very frustrating time of things. The problem is, honestly, most portable sewing kits on the market are... kind of pants. I may possibly have also looked at a few that were not, but I don't know, because their contents weren't even listed, let alone shown; and I am not buying a pig in a poke.

But, apart from that, there are generally three things wrong with sewing kits, and some of them have more than one of these things wrong. The first is that they come in a plastic box. Well, for one thing I want to minimise plastic as much as possible, and for another thing it rattles. So those are out. The second is that they're poor value, either because the contents are low quality (some of the tape measures, for instance, look as if they came out of a cracker, and you just know they're going to stretch in no time), or because the presentation is very fancy and expensive but they've skimped on the contents. I saw one kit in a Victorian-style hexagonal box that opened out at the sides, costing about £25. Well, yes, it was a very nice box, and the few things that were in it did look decent; there was a pair of small scissors, and probably a tape measure, and that kind of thing, but there were only three needles in it and two pins! And the third thing is that the contents are often out of balance. Some of them don't even contain any thread, for instance; and a lot contain needle threaders and seam rippers, neither of which I use.

So I thought... right. I shall put my own together. I ordered the cute little caddy in the photo (for scale, it's 24 cm long, if I recall correctly), and this is what's going in it.

First of all, the thing you never get in commercial sewing kits - fabric. If I'm going to cart a kit about, then I want to be able to do a full fitting with it if I need to (I'm specifically thinking of my aged mother, who has in recent months developed such a list to starboard that RTW tops are just not going to work for her these days). So in go 2 metres of white muslin for draping, one or two cotton fat quarters for general purposes, and some pieces of denim for patching.

Next, thread: several spools of Gutermann (including the denim thread; I don't wear denim, but most people I know do), plus "invisible" nylon thread in clear and smoke to cover anything where there isn't a good colour match. Oh, and a few shades of nylon darning yarn. Why, yes, I do still darn; I don't know many people who do, but I'm inclined to grow fond of my socks, so I will get as much wear out of them as I can.

As for needles, I just got a pack of 50 assorted. I wanted some betweens, because that's what I normally sew with, but couldn't get a pack of those. The pins are glass-headed, because they're easier to find if you drop them while out and about, and I'm also throwing in some Wonder Clips for those awkward fabrics that don't like pins (also, they're good for draping, because you can't accidentally stick them in your subject).

Cotton tape and elastic are absolute essentials as far as I'm concerned. The elastic is perhaps more obvious than the tape; almost everyone has had elastic break at some point. Tape, however, has many uses, but its main use for repairs is where the fabric has torn around a seam; it's far easier and neater to sew a bit of tape over that on the inside than use a bulky patch. It can also replace a drawstring at a pinch, though I'm thinking that when I have the time I'm going to make a length of linen kumihimo cord to go in for that specific purpose.

Even for repairs it is occasionally necessary to mark a seam, so there'll be a seam gauge in there and one of these. I had one before 2016 and, honestly, it is the business. There are a lot more colours in there than anyone actually needs, but it is excellent chalk and it's very economical, because the amount of sharpening you have to do is minimal due to the way it's set up. It actually works out cheaper in the end than buying those budget Hemline chalk pencils (which are still very good for what they are). And, obviously, there'll be a tape measure. Also Prym, and 150 cm, which is enough for most purposes (rather oddly, it's sold as a "waist" tape measure, but it should take pretty much any other measurement on most people apart from their height). It is just centimetres. I don't need inches.

Buttons are a bit of an awkward one, so I shall probably be adding to them as I go on; for now, I just have white shirt buttons in three sizes, plus brass press studs and an assortment of brass safety pins. That little lot should be able to provide a temporary fix for anything except a zip, and, honestly, a zip isn't an on-the-spot repair in any case. If your star alto has broken her zip just before the concert, she's not going to be able to get a similar one in time for me to replace it. I'm just going to have to fix her up with safety pins and lend her my dupatta if necessary.

That just leaves the little bottle of fray check ('orrible stuff - you do not want to be inhaling that - but it does do a very efficient job, including stopping ladders in nylons from getting any worse; I never wear the things, but, again, a lot of people do) and the A6 notebook and pen. For taking down measurements and similar notes.

And what you have after all that is a sewing kit for the ages. Granted, it won't go in your pocket (I don't think I could even get it into the pocket of my concert skirt); but it's portable enough for someone on wheels, it will handle pretty much any sewing emergency, it will fit up my old mother even though the Leaning Tower of Pisa has nothing on her, and it will enable me to ensure that d'Artagnan looks just as good as he sounds. And not a needle threader in sight! What's not to love here?