Make Your Own Mits

One of the iconic visual cues of early polar exploration is the white H over the chest made by the straps of the fur mits. Here is the outfit they have on display at the Polar Museum in Cambridge:

I knew that I would be doing a lot of sketching in the cold and that I would need a way to warm my hands quickly and accessibly. Having large external pockets would also be handy (ha ha) for storing erasers and cameras and other things that lose their functionality too much below freezing. So why not make myself some good old fashioned polar mits?

Originally they were made of dog (or wolf) skin, which is still vastly preferred to artificial furs in Arctic communities. The long glossy guard hair repels moisture, and the soft undercoat provides insulation. There is a stall on Cambridge market which sells various skins and leather goods, even reindeer skins sometimes, but not dog (or wolf, or fox, or any canid) pelts, so the closest I could get was a wool fleece. This promised to be warm, if not as waterproof. The fleece had been brushed so it was incredibly fluffy and at least twice as long as the dog fur would have been, which may be a help or a hindrance, we shall have to see. I found a piece in their remnants bin which was large enough to make two mits. Not having sinew to sew them with, I found the nearest alternative:

Cutting the thumb pieces separately allowed for more efficient use of the material.

I sewed them together inside-out, so that I could see what I was doing and simultaneously squeeze the fluff inside and make them easier to pack in my suitcase.

In my years in Vancouver, I was spoiled rotten by easy access a magical emporium of all things sewing-related, which could supply anything you wanted and quite a few things you didn’t realise you needed until you step in for something else and find that a bag of odd buttons and a bolt end of nice jacquard are definitely urgent necessities. I can’t count how many times I’ve been working on something since moving away, and thought ‘Oh – if only I could go to Dressew!’ Aside from everyday supplies, Dressew has supplied me with several Halloween costumes’ worth of material; in fact, the costume I was working on in LA when I first heard the Worst Journey radio play was made from material I’d picked up the last time I’d been in Vancouver.

I did that again making these mits: I could have used readily available cotton twill tape for the lanyard, but if I was going so far as hand-stitching raw fleece I might as well do the thing properly and get the heavier stuff. If only I could go to Dressew! . . . But I COULD go to Dressew! I would be passing through Vancouver on my way to Antarctica! And so, with great joy, the day after I arrived . . .

[cue Heavenly Chorus]

I mean, just look at this place!

They didn’t have the exact type of lampwick that I thought I remembered from the SPRI mits, but I found some heavy cotton webbing that was close enough to serve the purpose. I took it back to my friend’s place where I was staying and brought the mits to completion, then turned them fur-side out again.

As the wool is so long, they look a bit like I’ve gutted a pair of Muppets or run off with the polar bear skin from the wall of the SPRI lecture theatre, but I can attest from just having them on my lap that they are plenty warm. I may need to take in the lanyard slightly as I have only guesstimated the thickness of the parka which will cause them to sit higher around my neck, but that is easier to do than lengthen. And I have a spare foot of webbing left over which might come in handy.

(So to speak.)

It occurred to me, while stitching cotton to sheepskin in the late October sunshine, that this is not a million miles removed from the Halloween costumes I’d be making every year around this time. My costume choices grew increasingly esoteric and ambitious until I gave up making them, but this one outstrips them all, and is going to be tested to the extreme of practicality. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work – the pockets on the ECW parka serve just fine for everyone else, so I have that to fall back on – but I’m looking forward to giving it a try.

Oh, and . . .

I couldn’t help it.