Our first Repair Cafe

Highland Park's first Repair Cafe, which was postponed last February due to a massive blizzard, finally took place this weekend. I signed up to work in the sewing section, while Brian worked at the "miscellaneous" table. Never having attended, much less worked at, one of these events before, we had little idea what to expect. Would anyone even show up? And if they did, would any of them need repairs that were within our (particularly my) modest capabilities? 

The answers to both questions turned out to be, "And how."

The night before, Brian and I both spent some time deciding what tools and supplies to take with us. Having no clue what we'd need, we ended up packing everything we could reasonably carry to cover all the basics. Brian stuffed his backpack with roughly 30 pounds' worth of tools, including a hammer, an adjustable wrench, screwdrivers, pliers, a set of nut drivers, wood glue, epoxy, a multimeter, assorted hardware, a staple gun, a hacksaw, and probably several other things he can't currently recall. I took only my main sewing kit, but crammed it to the limit with extras I thought might come in handy: a few fabric scraps, my big darning needles, a small spool of yarn, some hooks and eyes, extra buttons, and my entire collection of embroidery floss, because you never know what color you'll need. (Brian made me stick a padlock on the overstuffed box to ensure it wouldn't pop open en route and spill all that stuff out onto the sidewalk.)

A little before noon, we arrived at the site with all our tools in tow. Sustainable Highland Park, which was organizing the event, was in the process of setting up tables and chairs and had put out some maps to show what was supposed to go on each one. I was mildly surprised to see that there were three entire tables for the sewing crew, the same as for electrical repairs, while "miscellaneous" had only one largish table in the opposite corner. There were also stations for bicycle, jewelry, woodwork, and guitar repair, and one table specifically for knife sharpening. We got set up, introduced ourselves to the other folks at our respective tables, and partook of some pizza provided by Sustainable Highland Park for the volunteers, and at 1pm, the doors opened. Or perhaps I should say, the floodgates. 

I meant to get more pictures of the event itself, but I never got a chance. I was working more or less nonstop for the next three hours, as a steady stream of "customers" presented their items for repair. I'd assumed that the work in the sewing section would be fairly light, but it turned out to be probably the busiest in the whole place. The folks with bigger jobs, like hemming pants or replacing zippers, got sent to the two ladies who'd brought sewing machines, while I and the two other hand-sewers devoted ourselves to a wide array of smaller repairs. I replaced buttons, stitched up torn seams, mended holes in pockets, reattached the band on a baseball cap, darned the worn-out bottom of a vinyl backpack, and patched up stuffed animals belonging to both a small child and a large dog. The supplies we'd all brought quickly turned into a communal pool as we passed buttons, seam rippers, fabric swatches, and thread of various colors along the table. Our section was so busy that one of the volunteers from the jewelry table, who also had some sewing skills, came over to join us, and even with her help, I suspect we didn't quite manage to serve everyone.

Meanwhile, over at his table, Brian was working on an even more mixed assortment of items. Over the course of the afternoon, he tackled multiple lamps, a space heater, a doll with a broken leg, a toaster oven with a broken door, an electric shaver, a robot vacuum, and a white noise machine, among other things. Some of these were fairly easy to fix, like the electric shaver (which showed up in pieces but worked perfectly once he managed to get it put back together) and the robot vacuum (which, after being cleaned and charged up, started cruising around the floor on its own). Others needed to be more fully disassembled to get at their inner workings. Some things got fixed, but a bit inelegantly (like the doll, which he simply reassembled with a dollop of hot glue). There were a few items he couldn't fix because no one at the table had the right tools, such as the lamp with the sagging head that would have required a longer bolt than Brian had in his collection, but he was at least able to advise the owners on how to repair them at home. And there were a few, such as the white noise machine, that completely stumped everyone at the table and ended up in the trash.

All in all, it was a hectic day, but a highly satisfying one. Ever since my paid work essentially dried up last year, I've often found myself wondering at the end of a day whether I've actually accomplished anything useful. Today, I was in no doubt whatsoever. I got to help not just one, but dozens of my neighbors live a little more ecofrugally, saving money and keeping their stuff out of the landfill. And as a group, we got to raise our collective middle finger to the disposable consumer culture that wants to keep us stuck on the buy-and-discard treadmill. It was a deeply fulfilling experience that brought our community together—one I hope will be repeated soon and often.