In a room with breathtaking views of Ullswater, the tranquillity is punctuated by the chattering sound of sewing machines and snippets of laughter and lively conversation.
It may be a beautiful Lake District hotel retreat but there is no time for a spa or a hike up Helvellyn – we are here to sew.
I admit to the group I have some trepidation. It is at least a decade since I used a sewing machine and even then it was to make misshapen cushion covers that, come to think of it, I don’t remember finishing. It seems a big step up to be producing a jumpsuit in two days, but Izzy Butcher, my teacher, is confident I can do it.
She has taught many beginners at IzzoSew Studio in Sheffield, where she has been running increasingly popular city-centre sewing retreats for two years. This is the first one she is holding in a rural setting, surrounded by nature.
“Having a beautiful view is so good for the mind and soul,” says Butcher, who was a chartered landscape architect before she dived full-time into running sewing meet-ups, retreats and workshops, teaching how to run up everything from anoraks to jeans.
All seven women on this weekend’s retreat have brought a project to work on. Some are experienced with creating their own garments, while others, like me, make up the increasing number of beginners.
The pandemic created a boom in people taking up sewing, the women explain, particularly making their own clothes. The BBC One competition The Great British Sewing Bee, now 10 series in, has spread the word, and a wider choice of fabrics and better patterns has made sewing even more appealing and accessible than before. Social media is perhaps the biggest factor in the rise though, with a flourishing online world of sewing amateurs and experts.
For the group, the retreat is a chance to get away from the day-to-day, particularly family responsibilities, and focus on something mindful and fulfilling. “We get a lot of people with intense jobs coming on retreats,” says Butcher, “because it just lets them escape.”
Cath Walsh, who is making a pair of jeans, adds: “Being creative is good for your mental health.”
Having done a lot of sewing when she was younger and taking a break for a busy career and children, Walsh returned to the craft about six years ago after chemotherapy for breast cancer.
“The treatment was quite brutal,” she says. “I was trying to get my life back together. I was too ill to work but I got my sewing machine out and started sewing again.”
Younger people are often motivated to start sewing over worries about the poor pay and conditions of the workers producing fast fashion. I’m deeply concerned about this, yet I find myself buying cheap clothing out of ignorance and convenience, which I am keen to stop.
Butcher says she hears this a lot. “One of the drivers is definitely sustainability, especially knowing who made your clothes.”
The pattern I’m working on is one of Butcher’s own designs. She helps me get started by taking measurements and adjusting the pattern to my body shape, as it caters for sizes 6 to 32. It strikes me that this is the first piece of clothing that is made to fit me.
“When it’s a fabric you love, you made it and it fits beautifully, it’s special,” says Butcher.
Visions of being a tangled – and possibly bloodied – mess of fabric and thread are quashed early as I manage to cut the right shapes and begin stitching them together.
Saturday passes at incredible speed and by the end, I have something resembling a jumpsuit. It is far beyond what I thought I was capable of.
When I put on the completed outfit on Sunday, I feel a genuine sense of accomplishment. Better still, I have made something I will actually wear. My new supportive group of friends are delighted too.
Butcher says: “It’s a real privilege to have a business where you get to inspire other people – and I often find it inspirational too.”
My Yorkshire garment-worker ancestors would probably have something to say about my wonky seams and uneven overlocking but, to me, the jumpsuit is perfect.