A visible (ugly) repair on a beloved coffee mug.

Mending is usually a product of necessity for many of us who refuse to purchase a new item when the existing one “still works.” When I was younger I often associated this trait with grumpy old men who wanted to hold on to their dearly held tools or shoes and refused to buy into the new fashionable things they were supposed to buy. I should be clearer that when I was young I looked down on people that did this as stodgy weirdos who had poor taste. Note that I said I used to think this way. When I was young I bought into the idea that new is better and relished the high I would get purchasing a new item, going through items I didn’t want, and then giving those unwanted items to charity. Perhaps needless to say, my mind has changed significantly since those wasteful days. Not only do I have to be way more conscious of my money, and so therefore have to mend and fix items I use on a regular basis, I believe that environmentally and socially it is the right thing to do.

The image above is from a mug I got for free from a church rummage sale. I got it for free because I asked for a discount on the price because of the repair and the seller just said “take it.” The maker, Taylor & Ng, actually made several mugs in the 1970’s ago that resell for good money if they are not damaged. I noticed this one initially because of the Taylor & Ng signature but then also quickly realized that this mug has been messily mended using epoxy or some other permanent adhesive. Initially I thought that I could remove the adhesive and redo the mend to “look prettier” but after the adhesive survived through the dishwasher and the microwave I gave in and accepted the look for what it was - something that someone wanted to keep yet was not necessarily a expert repairer. Also, it was vintage and had a cat design, which is almost an instant keep for me.

The main lessons I take from this mug (and other things I have purchased in similar shape) are that (1) broken items are not necessarily unusable, (2) something doesn’t have to be pretty in the typical sense to be worth keeping and using, and (3) visible mending is an unexpectedly powerful way to portray a dedication to sustainability. The last point is poignant for me, especially because I’ve seen the trend of visible mending in recent fashion design. Visible mending speaks to our need to use less, reuse, and repair, in a very simple way. Purposely making, owning, and showing visibly mended objects is a persuasive action.

This is a Scotch Brand metal tape container tin from 3M. It held 2 rolls of transparent cellulose tape which, if dried out, needed to be stored in a damp place or have a wet cloth placed with the tape to rehydrate (the adhesive? cellulose itself?). The metal tin is an arguably more recyclable packaging alternative to the plastic clamshell we see today, as well as a pretty storage container.

Aluminum metal drawers with steel exterior, indented front faces for labels. Found used in the Goodwill bins, where I had to dig for all of the drawers and inserts to make sure it was complete. These cabinets aren’t usually made like this anymore, especially with the metal drawers.

Metal parts cabinet made by Kaytee Products in Canton Ohio, USA.

Tape packaging insert from a 3M brand in the 1960’s. Cellophane itself is a cellulose (plant material) film and is not necessarily seen in modern office tape.

This is a Rocket Brand coated cardboard cellophane tape label from the company 3M back when they included Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing Company in their logo. According to O’Reilly, this logo use began in 1961: “With the new logo design comes a standards manual that contains four approved variations of the logo. This one is based on the geometric paintings of the Dutch artist Piet Mondrian.”