An Alteration Shop That Gives Me Hope
An Alteration Shop That Gives Me Hope
My visit to Eva Joan, a mending studio in the West Village.
This is the first installment of Repair Month, a series dedicated to taking better care of the clothes we already own instead of buying more of them. Join the discussion thread, here.
Over the last week, I’ve received so many great recommendations from readers for Repair Month. The Google Doc just keeps getting longer and longer, and I can’t wait to share it with you. It’s clear that there are an endless number of skilled tailors, cobblers, menders — you name it — out there. So many, that it’s going to be impossible for me to cover them all. We’ll just have to make this an annual thing. (Especially since the go-to sweater repair guy told me he’s too busy with your moth holes right now to talk to me!) One thing that keeps coming up is that the best people have been in business for decades. The sweater repair guy is around 75 years old. My cobbler has been at it for 40-plus years. What are we going to do when they inevitably retire?
Fear not. The next generation is out there, and they’re getting creative. A few nights ago, for example,
told me about “Wardrobe Therapy” by Janelle Abbott, who goes by JRAT. They’ll take 3-5 pieces from your closet that you love but don’t wear, and fashion something totally new out of them following an in-depth consultation. Shoutout to a fellow rat!
While reading NYMag’s “Reasons to Love New York” issue this year, I also learned about Eva Joan, a mending studio and one-stop-shop for alterations founded by Bjorn Eva Park and Emma Villeneuve, both of whom are in their early 30s. They opened Eva Joan in 2021 on 8th Avenue in the West Village next door to Casa Magazines and have since moved to a large, garage-like space at 28 Jane Street, which I visited this week with my friend,
, who also writes a newsletter. We’ve gone on a few repair-related adventures together recently.Eva Joan’s whole thing is that they’re open to trying anything. “There are very few projects we’ll say no to,” says Emma, a former set decorator. Adding: “Well, shoes.” But, generally speaking, if you’ve got a problem, they’re here to help you find a creative solution for it.
Named after Bjorn and Emma’s respective grandmothers — two “eccentric, creative women who didn't dispose of things easily” — Eva Joan and their team can, of course, patch up those pesky moth holes. But they can also restore a 1920s costume jacket and turn your tattered low-rise jeans into a ‘jag’ with some snazzy embroidery. In the front of the space are two racks of reworked vintage for sale that serve as a portfolio for what they and their team are capable of as well.
Going to the tailor can be an intimidating experience. Sometimes, gruffness is a good sign. You bring your stuff to a grumbly old guy because you trust him to tell you exactly where he thinks the hem of your pants should fall, and he’s probably right. At Eva Joan, though, it’s more of a collaborative conversation.
“We are constantly trying to tell people: you can trust us, even though we're young and female,” says Bjorn, a former production designer. “You can have a new relationship with your tailor. We nod to all the people above us. But it’s interesting to see a new dynamic between maker and creative, or a person that comes in and says, ‘I would like this.’” In general, they want the Eva Joan experience to be a fun, positive one. “People have to feel excited and eager to learn in order for us to make any kind of turn away from fast fashion,” Bjorn adds.
I appreciated Eva Joan’s friendly, optimistic attitude. Last year, I took a vintage, olive-print Geoffrey Beene vest to the dry cleaner after wearing it to a wedding. They told me it could not be treated because the colors would bleed, and I believed them. (I trust Golden Touch on Flatbush with my life!) Unfortunately, I confirmed this to be true when I accidentally left a wet piece of clothing on the vest overnight, and the black dye spread everywhere.
A few months later, I took it to Madame Paulette, a fancy dry cleaner, to see if there was anything I could do, and they also wouldn’t touch it. (Maddie is my witness.) They basically told me it was a lost cause. I was devastated, not only because I’d worn this incredible vest, which I had tailored to fit my body, just once, but also because I’d been so careless with such a special piece. This is why I can’t have nice things, etc.
At the end of my visit to Eva Joan, though, Bjorn asked me if there was anything I wanted to have mended. Well, now that you mention it… I said. I do have this vest that no one else will touch…
“Bring it in!” she replied. “We’ll see what we can do.”
Before that moment, I hadn’t considered any solution other than bleach and crying. But what if I embroidered the damaged part? Or took fabric from the back and put it on the front? Maybe I could even dye it. The point is that I suddenly had hope. My beloved olive vest might live to see another day. Thanks to Eva Joan, it wasn’t over; it still isn’t over! I’ll let you know how this saga ends.
NEXT TIME: I called a laundry expert to answer your most pressing, hyperspecific questions.
Eva Joan did a decorative repair of my stone washed Fiorucci denim jacket from the 80s. Love that place!