Why Skill Development Matters in Sustainable Fashion
Let’s get raw for a second. Fast fashion isn’t just “bad.” It’s a predator. It thrives on your doubt—“I’ll never learn to sew”—and sells you cheap fixes. Meanwhile, Nigeria imports $4.2 billion in textiles annually, only to dump 75% as waste. Feel that anger? Good. Now channel it.
Mending is alchemy. That hole in your jeans? A chance to embroider sunflowers. A frayed ankara skirt? Reinvent it with adire patches. Every stitch slashes waste, saves cash, and screams, “I refuse to be a cog in this machine.”
But here’s the kicker: Lagos gets it. While the world lectures, we do. Our tailors—keepers of traditions like Aso Oke weaving—aren’t waiting for permission. They’re in markets, on Instagram Live, teaching Gen Z to mend like their grandmothers did. This isn’t nostalgia. It’s strategy.
Section 2: Meet the Lagos Tailors Leading the Workshops
Let’s talk about Adunni. She’s been mending clothes in Oshodi Market for 20 years. Her hands move like poetry—darning socks, patching school uniforms, rescuing aso-oke wedding gowns from mothball graves. “People think tailoring is poor man’s work,” she told me, threading a needle. “But if your cloth dies, your story dies too.”
Adunni isn’t alone. At Mend In Public Day, you’ll meet tailors like Emeka, who turns discarded ankara into statement elbow patches, and Funmi, a self-taught visible mending guru who says, “Every stitch is a middle finger to Shein.” These aren’t “experts.” They’re your neighbors. Your aunties. The ones who’ve kept Lagos clothed long before “sustainability” was a hashtag.
They’ll teach you the secrets your grandparents knew:
How to darn a sock without losing your sanity.
Why adire dye can camouflage stains better than any detergent.
The art of “Nkwa” (Igbo for “repair with pride”), turning rips into art.
This isn’t charity. It’s legacy.
Section 3: Skill-Building Workshops – What to Expect
You walk in with a bag of “ruined” clothes. You leave with a tote of trophies. Here’s how:
For Beginners:
The Zen of Threading a Needle (Trust me, it’s therapy).
Patch Like a Pro: Use ankara scraps to turn a torn dress into a cultural flex.
Hemming 101: No more tripping over your pants.
For the Brave:
Sashiko, Lagos-Style: Reinforce thinning collars with geometric stitches—sharp enough for a boardroom, bold enough for Balogun Market.
Zero-Waste Magic: Resize that oversized buba into a crop top and a hair scarf. (Yes, you read that right.)
Pro tip: Bring the jacket you “ruined” last rainy season. By noon, you’ll be the Picasso of patches.
Section 4: Beyond the Workshop – Sustaining Your Skills
Let’s get real: A single workshop won’t dismantle fast fashion. But consistency will.
Your DIY Starter Kit:
Needles: Buy the ones Mama Chidi sells at Balogun Market—sturdy enough to punch through denim and your excuses.
Thread: Go for adire-dyed cotton from Iya Risi’s stall. Support local, bleed culture.
Scraps: Raid your neighbor’s aso-oke tailoring leftovers. One person’s trash is your future tote bag.
Stuck? Lagos’ YouTube Grandmas Have Your Back:
Search “Aunty Bimbo darning tutorial.” Her 7-minute video on fixing zippers has more wisdom than a TED Talk.
Join the Slow Stitch Club Lagos WhatsApp group. They host monthly “Mend & Wine” nights. (Yes, wine. No judgment.)
The Golden Rule: Mend one thing weekly. That holey sock? That dress you “outgrew”? Treat them like therapy sessions—cheaper, and no one charges you ₦5,000/hour.
Section 5: The Bigger Picture – Mending as Activism
Funmi, the visible mending guru, put it bluntly: “When you repair in public, you’re not just fixing cloth. You’re shaming a system.”
Your Stitches Have Power:
Post your mended buba with #MendInPublicDay. Tag @LagosFashionWeek. Watch brands scramble to look ethical.
The Ripple Effect: Last year, Ngozi restored 50 school uniforms for kids in Makoko. Their parents now call her “The Cloth Savior.”
But This Isn’t Just About You:
Lagos dumps 250,000 tonnes of textile waste yearly. Every darned sock is a bullet dodged.
Push policymakers: Share the UNESCO report on African textile waste at your next community meeting. Be the annoying person who says, “But what about mending?”
Practical Tips for Attendees
Here’s your cheat sheet:
Bring:
Clothes with holes (duh).
Scissors. Not the kitchen ones. Don’t be that person.
A friend who still thinks “sustainability” means expensive hemp shirts. Convert them.
Location: Freedom Park Lagos. Look for the tent with the “We Mend, We Fight” banner.
Afterparty: Donate excess fabric to the Lagos Sewing Collective. They’ll turn it into masks for schoolkids.
Conclusion
Look, Lagos isn’t waiting for Europe’s sustainability “experts” to save us. We’ve got Adunni’s needles, Funmi’s sass, and your hands.
This Mend In Public Day, come for the free thread. Stay for the revolution. And when your auntie asks why you’re “wasting time” patching old clothes, tell her:
“Aunty, even Fela’s uniform had patches. You think he was poor?
Ruth Aafa
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