Fashion
For $5, Radical Sewing Club teaches you to mend clothes like an anticapitalist
On a balmy summer evening, Sary Gil of Norwalk tediously repairs one of his T-shirts with red thread using decorative stitches that look like rosebuds. You wouldn’t know it, but just three weeks ago, he sewed for the first time. Ever since, on Wednesdays after work, he’s attended Radical Sewing Club in Huntington Park.
His motivation was simple: He wanted to learn to sew so he could fix damaged clothing like this T-shirt. “My first day here I learned using the practice stitching guide. They started me with the back stitch, into the split stitch, into the blanket stitch, and the flowers. … I wasn’t sure how the class was structured, so I came in blind,” he said. But once founder Scout Quiquivix explained that the club was started to fight against fast fashion and, by extension, capitalism, his interest deepened. The new skill was more in line with his morals than he realized.
Founded in 2023, Radical Sewing Club teaches practical hand sewing and mending skills every Wednesday night. For $5 (though no one is turned away for lack of funds), predominantly Southeast Los Angeles residents gather at Arts Space HP, a multiuse spot with a leftist bookstore, coffee shop, art gallery and community programming area.
Fast fashion — when clothes are made quickly and cheaply to meet rapidly shifting trends — has been on the rise for years. But recently, so has resistance to it. Shein, a brand synonymous with fast fashion and beloved by Gen Z, updates its website with 10,000 new pieces per month, according to NPR, testing what shoppers want and then deciding what to produce in mass quantities. Shein describes this strategy as being “on demand,” but some discerning shoppers call it “ultrafast fashion.”
The Radical Sewing Club is among a growing number of Los Angeles communities preaching sustainability in fashion. Others are Suay L.A., which used to offer mending services in the past and currently offers community dyeing services (between $5 and $50 per dyed item), and Other Lives Studios, which offers classes in upcycling practices like fabric painting and decorative mending ($50-plus per class).
Back at the Radical Sewing Club meeting, a dozen sewers and hopefuls gathered around a square of shared tables. Some are here for the first time, while others, like Gil, have become regulars. Due to the fluctuating flow of attendees, there is no single lesson for each meetup. The $5 suggested fee covers materials like needles, thread, fabric for patching and more — some of which Quiquivix purchases, some of which has been donated.
First-timers can use provided embroidery hoops to practice a variety of stitching techniques. Once they’re comfortable, they can practice those stitches on clothing they bring in to mend. At this gathering, Quiquivix paces among attendees, teaching how to thread a needle (“Make sure the string is as long as your hand to your shoulder”) and answering questions, all with rescue dog Cinnamon in a pet carrier backpack.
Scout Quiquivix uses a template to show beginners different stitch techniques.
Veronica Tadeo of Los Angeles works on a sewing design at the Radical Sewing Club.
Brenda Ceja of Whittier brought in a ripped pair of pants for her second visit to Radical Sewing Club. Before attending, she had no sewing experience. “I think this is very important because it’s a life skill that’s not being taught to people anymore. I can teach others the skills I learn here. It has a ripple effect, ” she said.
This rings true for Quiquivix, who works as a manager of a thrift store by day and grew up in a suburb of Pomona. They learned to mend, sew and buy secondhand from their mother. During the pandemic, they discovered social media videos of creative embroidery used for not just design but repair. Quiquivix initially sought commission work mending others’ clothing but then decided to channel their experience and learned patience from working at youth summer camps to teach a class.
The radical element of the club is rooted in anticapitalist values. “The fact that we’re repairing our clothes in a highly capitalist society is radical. It’s radical to fix something versus throwing it away and buying something new,” said Quiquivix. This mission is more apparent to some attendees than others, but Quiquivix doesn’t mind. “If I can just get somebody to come in and learn how to sew and learn how to repair their clothes, and that’s all that they got from it, they’re still going to go home and repair their clothes and they’re still doing something anticapitalist,” they said.
Matthew Gardea and Sofia Guevara of Downey joined Genevieve Quiquivix, Scout’s wife, at a table. Gardea and Guevara, who found the club on Instagram and have attended once before, are working on embroidering a decorative patch with the Radical Sewing Club logo. Genevieve Quiquivix is using red, green and yellow thread to create a design to repair holes in the heel of a sock.
“There’s been a stigma in the past that if you do this [mending] you’re poor. This breaks down those walls,” said Genevieve Quiquivix. Guevara agrees: “In school, when I’d wear secondhand pants that I altered so they’d fit me, kids would make fun of me. I’m glad this is normalized. It’s fun to fix your clothes.”
Amanda Tapia, a worker-owner of FTP Cafe, also inside Arts Space HP, believes Radical Sewing Club is critical for the Latino community in Southeast L.A.. “A lot of us grew up with abuelas where this skill was so natural to them. As children of immigrants being forced into assimilation, we’re claiming these skills again. … We’re learning ways to fight capitalism, stay in alignment with our values and maintain our culture in a more radicalized way, which I think is beautiful.”
As attendance grows, Scout Quiquivix hopes to enlist a second teacher. In the meantime, regular attendees are teaching their newfound skills to first-timers. “It’s the most beautiful thing in the whole world,” Quiquivix said.
Follow @radicalsewingclub on Instagram for more information or join every Wednesday at 6:30 p.m. at Arts Space HP: 3382 E. Florence Ave., Huntington Park.