Jenny Seay

Two twentysomethings huddle together on the Blue Line's Damen platform, awaiting the arrival of the next train. One of them, petite with blonde-streaked black hair, is complaining about the condition of her apartment's carpet.

"It's really ratty, you know, and smells like cat, and I just can't stand it," she says.

Her friend, tall and gaunt, adjusts the black bandanna on her head. "You should tear it up." She puts one hand on the first girl's shoulder, and uses the other to swipe the air with slow, circular motions. "Rent a floor polisher from a hardware store and shellac the wood. It's really easy."

The first girl considers this, lifting a strip of blonde hair to her lips. "Does it take long?"

Her friend shakes her head. "No. It's pretty cheap too."

The train rumbles into view before more can be said, but the first girl's bright eyes and hopeful expression hint that maybe she won't settle for horrendous carpet much longer. She boards the train armed with a solution, empowered by self-sufficiency.

And this exchange is not an isolated incident. More and more, Chicago dwellers are finding ways to embrace the Do-It-Yourself ethic. It's a take-charge philosophy, a radical value system with independence and creativity at its core. Originally adopted by the punk scene, DIY has extended into other areas of culture, creating several communities of individuals who celebrate free spirit and sneer at the notion of a homogenous society.

ReadyMade is one publication that taps into this burgeoning revolution. "Ultimately, what we're trying to do is be kind of like a field guide for people who are just getting started in the world," says editor-in-chief Shoshanna Berger. "ReadyMade really tries to celebrate the individual and coax the creative gene out of people."

Readers across the nation respond to ReadyMade's irreverent projects, from homemade ping-pong tables to absinthe recipes. The magazine fills a void, addressing the needs of people longing to create, people who yearn for an existence forged on their own terms. And with this hunger satiated, the need for an innovative, autonomous lifestyle has become a necessity for some.

One manifestation of this can be witnessed Tuesday nights at the Art Gallery Kafe. A group of women gather around the yellow coffee table in the center of the room, laps loaded with bundles of yarn. They laugh and sip smoothies while comparing notes on knitting projects. All are quick to offer each other assistance when necessary.

"Be creative, and use what you've got as a design," Sharon McGee tells another woman, who is lamenting a botched stitch. McGee leans across the table, fingering another woman's cluster of black yarn, turning it over to demonstrate how to keep going.

This weekly gathering, known as Chicago Stitch N Bitch, speaks to a specific faction of the DIY community. Formed by Brenda Janish in October 2000, it brings knitting enthusiasts of all walks of life together, serving as a support group for women and men who enjoy a sturdy set of needles and good conversation.

"I didn't know anyone who knitted, really," says Stephanie Powell. She attended her first Stitch N Bitch about two-and-a-half years ago, and the promise of likeminded crafters has kept her coming back. In that time she's fashioned scarves, mittens, and baby hats, continuing a tradition that she first learned to appreciate after observing her grandmother. "There's value in creating anything," she adds, but she won't quantify the value of her creations by making them for anyone besides family and friends.

Others, however, have no problem profiting from their DIY handiwork. Since last year, Chicago has been home to various events intended to help artists and designers benefit from exposing their creations. Sue Blatt and Kathleen Habbley pioneered this movement last fall when they staged the city's first Renegade Craft Fair.

The fair spawned from Blatt and Habbley's desire to sell their respective wares. "I make jewelry, and Kathleen sews, and we wanted to sell our stuff at some kind of outdoor fair or festival. And when we were looking into festivals around the city all we found were fairs geared towards fine art. We wanted something that was more fun and low maintenance," explains Blatt.

Put off by pretentious artists and high vendor fees, Blatt and Habbley set about establishing their own fair. They made phone calls, acquired a license from the city, posted fliers, all the while learning that the process was a lot more complicated than they anticipated.

"It turned into a much bigger ordeal than we thought it would," Habbley muses. "We thought you could just show up and set up one day."

But once all the administrative red tape had been cleared away, Habbley and Blatt discovered a sitting-duck market for their idea. With Venus zine editor Amy Schroeder's help, they distributed a call for vendors, and heard back from more prospective artists than they had room for. They even attracted better-known small businesses such as Ex Libris Anonymous, a company that fashions journals out of vintage books, and Texas embroidery wizard Sublime Stitching.

Schroeder, who also had a table in the craft fair, was very impressed with the end result. "It was a really good turnout. It was outside in Wicker Park and they had probably fifty to seventy-five booths with different people setting up shop. After the fact, [participants] said that they were so inspired and wanted to keep on doing this and hope to someday quit their day jobs in order to make their clothing or jewelry or whatever."

The success of Renegade Craft Fair has inspired other forums for those wishing to find an audience for their wares. Events such as the DIY Trunk Show and Depart-ment, a quarterly gathering at the Open End Gallery, were created after Renegade confirmed the viability of an alternative marketplace, one with an emphasis on ethical consumerism.

Annie Tomlin, Venus' DIY editor, speculates on the growing tendency for people to reject mass consumption in favor of handmade products. "I think people are starting to question their motives for consumption, especially because, despite what President Bush says, the economy is not doing so well. So you have to think about how you spend your money. You have to be more conscious."

And in addition to offering a wide selection of unique items, Renegade Craft Fair, DIY Trunk Show, and Depart-ment are great gathering places for those eager for a sample of the do-it-yourself community, which, on an individual level, has a surplus of colorful personalities.

One of those, Lena Kim, is an enthusiastic advocate of the DIY movement. She has been making art in various forms for many years, and currently constructs origami earrings and wallets crafted from pages of old National Geographics out of her living room. While discussing her background, she keeps one eye on her infant daughter Chloe, who bounces in place on the hardwood floor.

"My main focus in the beginning was fine art. I was a painter and mostly painting but [also did] small [amounts of] sculpting and some printmaking and then I shifted my focus. I actually like touching stuff more," she explains.

Kim's hands-on desires also steered her toward developing her own business, the now defunct gallery/storefront Monkey Business. Open until May 2004 on Chicago Avenue in Ukrainian Village, this arts and craft collective was designed to assist other artists--to showcase the efforts of those intimidated by the standard art world.

Kim was sick of seeing her friends not promoting their art, and with the help of Cecilia Vargas, decided to do something about it. She says, "I thought [of] having this place [Monkey Business] that was approachable and organized by people [her friends knew]."

And even though Monkey Business didn't realize its full potential, Kim is still brainstorming other ways to foster and strengthen the DIY community. She runs Monkey Business as a website, featuring her jewelry alongside the work of several others. And she's planning a crafter's collective that would allow people supporting themselves off their creations to pool resources.

Cooperation is important in these communities, because the very nature of DIY is to rely on support from those within your immediate network. After years of producing Venus, Amy Schroeder is convinced that Chicago is a hotbed of DIY activity.

"I think we've got a great setup in Chicago in that it's not as expensive to live here as it is New York. And this town is based on hard work, and I think that fuels it a lot too. People make time to work on their projects, to work on their art and whatever it is that drives them, they're passionate about."

So what are these projects? Numerous ventures, everything from magazines to clothing to stuffed animals. There are even websites, like GetCrafty.com and Craftster.org where people can post questions and swap designs.

Longtime crafter Leslie Stewart cites the Internet as a big reason DIY has exploded. "It's pretty easy to create your own website, so it's equally easy to find communities of people online who share your interest in creating things."

Ease of access to resources and technology will only continue to perpetuate the appeal of DIY. Shoshanna Berger sums it up: "I think we're living in a very hands-on time where people are wresting the tools of production and really realizing they can do anything in their living room. And the beauty of living in a high-tech, home-user era is that people really chase whatever they want to do in a very singular way."

(2004-09-14)

Also by Jenny Seay

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