It's time to pull up our socks (after we darn them)

Karen von Hahn

Karen von Hahn

For years, the contemporary North American malaise has been rooted in having too much rather than too little.

Stepping into the material extravaganza of an H&M or my own crammed closet, it is hard to imagine that, in the days of the Allied war against Hitler, not only food but clothing was strictly rationed.

Which was why, in an effort to promote and encourage thrift, Britain's Board of Trade issued Make Do and Mend, a series of wartime informational leaflets that is particularly worthy of mention this Remembrance Day.

Full of practical, housewifely hints on to how to darn a sock or rework a set of curtains into a dress, these chin-up missives complete with reproductions of their original, breezy forties-era illustrations have recently been collected and reprinted in an appealing hardcover version.

Now an Amazon craft bestseller (particularly in Britain, where realization of the new global economic reality hit home earlier than in eternally naive North America), this kitsch artifact has proved timely if not weirdly prescient.

If anything could provide the necessary dash of cold water for my generation (which has never known privation) to appreciate just how bad things can get, the official instructions for what to do when you have lost everything to an enemy bomb are an eye-opener, as are the recommendations of the doll-like Make Do mascot Mrs. Sew & Sew, who observes that, in a pinch, one can use almost anything (scraps of old rugs, bits of straw, old newspapers) to fashion a pair of slippers or utilize the dwindling heat in a turned-off oven to warm the water for bathing the children or washing clothes.

Some of the book's fun facts are so on trend they are almost scary. Like the progressive young designers currently reworking moth-eaten cashmeres from Value Village into one-off eco-chic pieces, Mrs. Sew & Sew shows you step by step how to attach, say, panels from an old blanket to reinforce or refresh a worn ladies' jacket.

Just like today, wedge heels of cork or wood on ladies' shoes were in fashion - back then because of wartime restriction on the use of precious materials such as leather.

Clogs, currently enjoying a style resurgence, were apparently also very popular during the war as they were exempt from rationing.

Given today's girls, who mimic the likes of Kate Moss with their flat-foot Repettos, it is also interesting to note that ballet shoes enjoyed a similar vogue back then - and for the same reason.

But where Make Do and Mend really hits home is in its can-do spirit.

This week's historic election of Barack Obama - who ran a presidential campaign that was unwavering in its commitment to integrity and firm in its belief that, when given the choice, people will do the right thing - signalled a sea change.

For my generation, which was reared on the hopeful idealism of the 1960s but came of age in the cynical Reagan years, the triumph of a grassroots, "yes, we can" movement is nothing short of a miracle.

For too long, we have lived in a sort of unreal bubble where hype, self-interest and greed have dominated the conversation.

Ignorance has mocked intelligence, while, in George W. Bush's America, war has been a video game.

Corporate theft and credit-card excess have financed ugly wardrobes of designer bling, VIP bottle service and gated communities.

As we made ourselves over into plastic replicas of our celebrity idols, we also seemingly lost the ability to actually do or make anything real.

As the newly elected Obama reminded us in his extraordinary yet sober acceptance speech in front of an audience of 125,000 newly hopeful people, there is a lot of hard work ahead. The piggy bank is empty, tensions are frayed and our relationships are in tatters. But at least the U.S. electorate was finally able to rise above the noise, make a careful, considered choice and, for the first time since FDR, pick the right guy to Make Do and Mend.

*****

Ration coupons by the numbers

While wartime food and fuel rationing is a familiar concept, many people are unaware that clothing was severely rationed, too. In wartime Britain, clothing rationing began in 1941 and continued until 1949.

According to Make Do and Mend, adults were issued 66 coupons for the first year (children got more) but subsequent years saw coupon allocations drop as shortages worsened.

The following list shows the number of coupons required for women's clothing in 1941 (assuming one could afford to pay for them):

Overcoat, fully lined and woollen, leather or fur: 18

Overcoat, unlined and not woollen, leather or fur: 9

Skirt, if woollen: 6

Skirt, not woollen: 4

Dress, if woollen and with sleeves of any length: 11

Dress, gown or frock, not woollen: 7

Blouse, woollen: 6

Blouse, not woollen: 4

Nightdress: 6

Bathing costume: 3

Pair of rubber boots, heelless bedroom slippers or running shoes: 4

Pair of sandals: 5

Pair of stockings: 2

Four small handkerchiefs: 1

From Make Do and Mend

(Michael O'Mara Books)

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