Street Gleaning

There was once an eccentric American woman who lived in the North of England. She had funny ideas about useful things not being wasted, not being needlessly sent to landfill to rot. She sometimes went 'running' for some exercise and often walked as a form of transport. This means that she saw things dropped by other pedestrians.

One day she was running her usual route and saw a black sodden mess by the curb. She was curious about it. She thought if it was still there the next day, she'd pick it up and take it home to look at it. Several times in the past she had picked up broken umbrellas and cut away the fabric from the frame, folding it away for later use. She'd read somewhere that a charity used old umbrella fabric to make raincoats for the homeless (but of course she couldn't find the link again). She did this sort of thing even when she still worked and made tons of money.

Sure enough the next day she saw the black fabric just as before. It being a wild, windy day with escaped bits of litter about, she scooped up a plastic bag from the fence across the road, popped the wet garment into it and tucked it into the pouch of her running jacket. At home she found it was a size 12 top from Dorothy Perkins with 3/4 length sleeves and a sweetheart neck line. Into the washer it went. When it came out the top had no flaws, fitted perfectly and become one of her favourite pieces of clothing. Who would want to leave such a thing on the street in the rain? Given the neighbourhood, she did think it unlikely she'd removed evidence from a crime scene...

Another day a black knitted scarf was blowing down the sidewalk. One evening, a small pair of black gloves had been ditched on the pavement. No people in sight to hail with what they'd dropped, she doubled back and picked them up, having small hands herself. They had holes in the fingertips, but she knew what to do about that.

She needed some black gloves to go with her charcoal trench coat, a veteran of many seasons.

Using the red top of the Vaseline Lip Therapy container made the mending a snap.



The next running night, as she was passing an art gallery she noticed a pair of leather gloves lying in the street. Thinking of all the expensive gloves she'd lost, having taken them off and put them in her lap to drive, only to have them fall silently to the street when she stepped out of the car, she thought "This is karma". When washed they turned out to be a dark brown instead of black, but she was planning on building the chocolate aspect of her wardrobe anyhow, that shade going well with auburn hair or blonde hair.

Just the other day as she walked to the sewing group, she spotted a black fluffy garment draped over the park fence. "If that is still there when I return, I'm having it" she thought. It was and she did. It lies damp and drying on the floor behind her now, layered with other sweaters between towels. It's an acrylic, angora and silk mix shrug from TopShop. It's probably no coincidence that the items are all youthful, dark coloured and that the dark nights are lengthening.