Sewing patches for punks
Punks love patches, but they hate sewing. Battle Vest Fest (BVF), a 3-day music festival held at the newly reopened Ray’s Golden Lion June 7–9, inspired many to don the classic denim vest and party hard. A battle vest, as defined by my good friend and fellow embroiderer Neftali Haskell, is: “A black or blue denim vest that is either made from a jacket that’s had its sleeves removed or just a vest. The purpose of a battle vest is to broadcast the bands you’ve seen or are a fan of. In the modern era, it has started to lend itself to other things, political movements or just pop culture icons like The Simpsons.” I consider him an expert in the matter, as he’s spent decades in punk scenes all over the coast.
A few weeks before the event, I attended a sleepover where a group of women sat in a stitching circle and hand sewed patches to vests with thick needles. I’m a veteran of the cosplay community and love an opportunity to teach friends to sew and flex my hand-sewing skills. But between loading needles and tying knots in thread, a thought occurred to me: “Why aren’t we just using my sewing machine?”
For most, a sewing machine is an expensive piece of hardware that hardly gets used. The troubleshooting of threading one is enough to discourage any newcomer. I knew many punks would be coming to the event with a stash of patches needing to get sewn on, but with no time to do it. So I reached out to Cali Denning, a fixture of the Social Punks of Easter Washington (SPEW). I asked if I could set up my sewing machine for the weekend, and with collaboration with Ray’s, I was stationed next to a “take a patch/leave a patch” table.
Right out the gate, people were drawn to the merch tables. A man with a beard approached me with a Ninja Turtles patch. It was a stocking stuffer from the ‘90s his mom had refused to sew onto anything. It felt like a family heirloom! I felt honored to finally give Raphael a proper home on the bearded man’s flannel.
House of B, a local band made up of a father and his two sons, took the stage while my machine chugged away. I grew up next door to that family. While they were practicing music, I was earning girl scout patches (many of which found new homes on the hats and suspenders of BVF guests).
Out of town acts like Hubba Hubba — an all-female band and highlight of the weekend — set up merch across from me. I sewed a few Battle Vest Fest patches on their clothes before they performed on Saturday, and altered a Hubba Hubba tank top so an adorable toddler could wear it as a dress.
The weekend was full of great conversations with fellow music enjoyers, many of whom expressed their hatred of sewing patches. Personally, I love sewing, but it can be incredibly isolating. It’s hard to hold a conversation over the loud “BRRRRR” of a sewing machine, so I spend many lonely nights toiling away at my projects. I spend my day job at Atomic Embroidery pumping out hats and polos for local businesses. The monotony of commercial art and long days are exhausting, but seeing a stranger wearing a hat I made at the bar will always fill me with pride. When you’re in a public space making art, it’s an entirely different vibe. BVF was my first time listening to live music while sewing, and it was truly a euphoric experience.
By the end of the weekend, everyone was a little hungover but still excited to come out. I stepped away from my machine to stand in the pit for one live performance: Mismiths. I had heard a lot of buzz about them throughout the week, and when a group of men walked through the back door in skull facepaint, I knew it must be them. Once they made it to the stage, everyone in the bar joined in on their rendition of “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out” as balloons were happily batted around by punks. Afterwards, I took a quiet stroll behind the Uptown to see the new murals. I had taken my senior photos back there a decade ago, but it might as well be a different ally entirely. I’m so grateful for this community of artists, of punks, and the home we’ve found at Ray’s Golden Lion.
Tana Savage is a Tri-Cities native, fiber artist, and cosplayer. Follow her on Instagram: @sewingsavage