Textile Narratives: Waste as Cultural Archive

By Mina Keykhaei

Introduction

In the spaces where the boundaries between waste and value are not clearly defined, there lies a hidden world of untold stories and forgotten memories waiting to be discovered. Textile waste represents a significant challenge and opportunity as discarded garments and fabrics carry not only environmental impacts, but also the stories, traditions, and identities woven into their fibres. This practice-based project serves as a reminder of the transformative potential that lies hidden within the humble remains of our material lives.

Textile Narratives: Waste as a Cultural Archive sets out on a journey of creative exploration by recognizing the significance of textiles beyond their utilitarian value, guided by the central question: How can the creative upcycling of textile waste transcend its environmental implications to foster a reconceptualization of our relationship with discarded objects? Addressing this question can contribute to new understandings of the self and society, the evolution of personal and collective identities, and the preservation of cultural knowledge, values, and traditions.

Situating this exploration within cultural context, as an Iranian artist I have witnessed firsthand how textiles, particularly rugs, serve as repositories of cultural memory and identity in my homeland—a characteristic shared by many Middle Eastern and Central Asian societies. Growing up with these traditions, I experienced how they are an integral part of daily life that serve both functional and symbolic purposes, from adorning homes to creating sacred spaces for prayer and contemplation. The simple act of removing one's shoes before stepping onto these textiles, a practice embedded in our way of life, speaks to their revered status beyond mere floor coverings.

This reverence is rooted in generations of tradition. These practices emerged from a rich ecosystem of domestic and regional production where crafting was deeply embedded in family and community life (Wearden & Baker, 2010). This localized creation preserved not just materials and techniques, but distinctive cultural traditions that were passed down through generations.

The rise of Western industrialization and its emphasis on disposable consumer culture has seen these cherished textiles become increasingly treated as temporary commodities; discarded and forgotten once they show signs of wear, rather than being preserved or repaired as they traditionally were. Upcycling, which is the creative repurposing of waste materials into new objects of higher value (Singh et al., 2019), offers a promising solution to this problem. Through this creative approach to discarded textiles, I aim to explore the potential of upcycling to preserve and reinterpret cultural heritage and personal identities while promoting sustainable practices.

The Ambiguity of Value: Weaving Theory and Practice

This ambiguity is eloquently captured by Bauman's (2004) concept of the “gray zone,” which illuminates the complex frontier separating “useful product” from “waste” (p. 28). Far from being a simple matter of physical attributes or economic worth, this gray zone is deeply entrenched in social, cultural, and temporal contexts, making it difficult to establish clear boundaries between the discarded and the valuable. As Viney (2014) posits, “waste serves as a tangible manifestation of the passage from a state of usefulness to one that is deemed no longer valuable” (p. 24). This transition highlights the subjective nature of value and how it is influenced by societal norms and temporal changes.

In this liminal space, waste occupies a unique position at the intersection of various dynamic tensions. Moser (2002) articulates this duality, situating waste “at the crossroads of dynamic tensions—purity versus pollution, value versus devaluation, and memory versus forgetting” (p. 89). The recognition of this ambiguity opens a space for a more nuanced and critical approach to understanding the latent potential within discarded materials. As Gregson and Crewe (2003) suggest, “life can be infinite, value can lie dormant, meaning can be hidden from view, awaiting rediscovery” (p. 143).

My investigation of this complex relationship between materiality and meaning guided me toward a practice-based approach where creative exploration and critical reflection could inform each other. Drawing inspiration from arts-based inquiry methods, I employed a series of material engagements and artistic interventions to investigate the transformative potential of textile upcycling. This methodological approach emerged from my recognition that a practice-based approach places creative practice at the centre of the inquiry, acknowledging the unique knowledge and insights that can be generated through the process of making and reflecting on art and design works (Candy & Edmonds, 2018). With this understanding, each step of my process, from the careful selection and preparation of discarded textiles to their reimagining and eventual reconfiguration, became an integral part of the research inquiry.

Woven Narratives: Textiles as Bearers of Cultural Identity

While upcycling offers a pathway to sustainability, textiles serve as more than just materials to be reclaimed—they are rich repositories of cultural knowledge and identity. Through material choices, embroidery techniques, and distinctive patterns, textiles have historically communicated complex social information, from regional identity to economic status (Suleman, 2017).

Textile practices, such as specific weaving or embroidery traditions, elevate fabric to a form of cultural expression where even single motifs can carry significant meaning, highlighting the multifaceted roles textiles play in expressing and sustaining cultural narratives. For instance, the embroidery practices of Palestinian women reveal textiles as a form of culturally embedded speech, reflecting mourning and hope through symbolic designs (Moon, 2010). As one embroiderer, Ghnaim (2021) powerfully states, “My only identity is in my national dress... My personal history is recorded on my dress. I believe in my dress more than I believe in scholars and historians, because books are easily distorted and biased—but not my dress” (p. 27). Ghanim’s statement reinforces the notion of how textile traditions serve as a loud expression of identity, yearning for connection to land, ancestors, and self.

This understanding of textiles as vessels of cultural memory manifests powerfully in contemporary art practices. In my cultural context specifically, Iranian artists have engaged with these themes through diverse creative explorations. For example, Bita Ghezelayagh transforms discarded carpets into sculptural shepherd's cloaks, giving them “a new life and dignity” while preserving their cultural narratives (Islamic Arts Magazine, 2013). Similarly, Sara Rahbar assembles traditional textiles with cultural artifacts to create what the British Museum describes as “collages reflecting multi-layered identity and heritage” (Wearden & Baker, 2010, p. 199). These artistic engagements with textiles demonstrate the enduring power of these materials to carry and transmit cultural meaning across different contexts and interpretations.

Unfortunately, as a result of industrialization and mass production, textiles have transitioned from cherished items to easily replaceable waste due to losing their perceived value at the first sign of wear.

In Iran, skilled artisans maintained professional workshops where they developed sophisticated techniques for piecing together worn textiles, creating seams so precise they were nearly invisible (Wearden & Baker, 2010). I have witnessed echoes of this tradition in my own family's safekeeping of worn textiles, though we have admittedly lost both the traditional knowledge and motivation needed to repurpose them as mass-produced alternatives became readily available.

This shift challenges us to rethink the potential of these discarded materials. As Viney (2014) suggests, “waste collections act as assemblages that embody the interconnectedness of past, present, and future” (p. 55). This perspective highlights how what we consider as waste can be reimagined. These formerly valued objects actively participate in the narrative of their existence, embodying their history and bearing witness to the transformations, adaptations, and declines that shape their being. The transformation of textile waste into new forms of art can serve as a metaphor for this process, highlighting the latent potential within these materials to reveal past lives and cultural evolution. Viewed through this lens, these discarded textiles reveal their hidden narratives and transform into powerful symbols of cultural identity and continuity.

My creative work embodies these ideas and transforms theory into practice by repurposing old, worn textiles to create new art pieces that showcase the passage of time and the histories embedded within these materials. Through this process of transformation, I seek more than just the physical alteration of discarded fabrics; I engage in an act of unveiling and reinterpreting the latent potential and significance that may have been obscured by their status as waste.

Building on this approach, I draw upon Lisa Raye Garlock's concept of textiles as storytellers and embodiments of cultural narratives (2016).

From Closet to Canvas: The Creative Journey

In many Iranian homes, closets and trunks quietly hold textiles that are neither used nor discarded. They are too precious to let go yet too worn for daily life. These forgotten fabrics, tucked away in shadowed corners, serve as silent witnesses to the gradual erosion of practices that once valued preservation and renewal. As if suspended in time, they seem to wait for a moment of rediscovery; for someone to recognize their enduring worth once again.

It was in this context that my artistic practice emerged, driven by a desire to bridge the gap between these dormant textile traditions and contemporary creative expression. I began to explore every corner of our family home, opening old chests and investigating neglected closets. This exploration became more than a search for materials; it evolved into a journey of reawakening the narratives embedded within these textiles, stories that had been quietly preserved in their worn fibres.

The first treasure I unearthed was a rug that had graced our living room since my earliest memories, its once-vibrant hues now softened by the gentle patina of time. As my fingers traced the intricate patterns, each worn thread whispered tales of countless footsteps and shared moments. The frayed edges and faded motifs became a woven record of our family's history—silent witnesses to joyous celebrations, quiet contemplations, and the rhythms of daily life. In another chest, I discovered one of my mother's old dresses, its floral pattern a faded echo of bygone summers. The familiar print became a sensory gateway to my childhood as I held the fabric close. I could almost feel the warmth of her embrace and relive the tender moments when she would tuck me into bed, wrapping me in a sense of love and protection.

As my heart and mind grew flooded with touching moments with my mother, my hands found another treasure: a stack of serviettes, each one a canvas of my grandmother's patient embroidery that bore witness to countless family gatherings. My grandmother, unable to part with these threadbare keepsakes, had preserved them as touchable pieces of her hopes and memories. Unlike my generation, she belonged to an era when women possessed not only the skills to create beautiful textiles, but the knowledge to maintain them across generations. Though time had left its indelible marks in the form of faded threads and stubborn stains, these serviettes remained, cherished beyond their practical use. The worn textures and muted hues transformed before my eyes as I carefully unfolded each piece.

These discarded textiles, rich with the time-worn beauty of lived experiences, seemed to whisper secrets of bygone eras and future possibilities. With their worn fibres and faded hues, these serviettes revealed new beginnings—a canvas for reimagining our relationship with the material world and the stories it holds.

The hunt for forgotten textiles became a journey through the collective memory of my community. My exploration led me beyond our family home to the attics, closets, and storage spaces of my relatives and Iranian friends. My quest was not solely for patterns or colours, but for the lived experiences each textile held. I carefully sorted and documented each piece as my collection grew, eventually creating a catalog of origins and memories that would serve as the foundation for my designs.

Once selections were complete, the preparation phase began. I started gently cleaning years of accumulated dust from the rugs, a process that required multiple repetitions. During this work, I realized that I was not merely removing grime; I was unveiling layers of personal and cultural histories.

The decisions about which sections of rug to preserve or how to stabilize delicate embroidery led me into a dialogue with the past. These choices were not merely technical—they were acts of interpretation and preservation; decisions about which stories to highlight and which elements of cultural memory to carry forward into new forms.

As I immersed myself in the process, a concept began to emerge from the very fibres I was handling. The idea of “restful figures” arose naturally from these rugs, which serve as essential spaces of repose in Iranian culture. The concept drew a parallel between the stillness of bodies at rest and the quiet suspension of these textiles, each preserving traces of lives lived upon them. The memories etched into these textiles resonated deeply with me—my fingers traced familiar textures, recalling the comfort of a body that had grown up nestled against these woven landscapes. My eyes, accustomed to these patterns since childhood, found peace in the familiar motifs and colours, each a visual echo of home and belonging. These sensory experiences and observations led me to explore my personal archive of photographs that captured moments of rest and relaxation on rugs. I also reached out to my friends and family to gather their visual memories to weave into the project, with each shared image adding depth to the evolving concept.

The process of developing these “restful figures” became a form of visual storytelling with each composition serving as an invitation to viewers to reflect on their own experiences and memories associated with these familiar textiles. As Norouzianpour (2022) notes, “collective nostalgic elements can be used as instruments to link people to places and others. When it comes to shared nostalgia, there is no other form of art among Iranians from all walks of life more important than rugs”(p. 110).

The concept of “restful figures” aligned beautifully with the practice of “slow stitching” described by Claire Wellesley-Smith in her book, Slow Stitch: Mindful and Contemplative Textile Art (2015). Inspired by the tradition of Persian carpet-making, where hand-knotting processes often span months or years in dedicated pursuit of artistic excellence, I was drawn to this meditative approach to textile work. Wellesley-Smith elaborates on “slow stitching” by emphasizing the importance of engaging thoughtfully in the act of stitching, advocating for a process that allows time for contemplation and understanding. She argues that this approach fosters deeper connections with the materials at hand and values the creative journey as much as the finished piece (2015). Wellesley-Smith’s work motivated me to embrace a more contemplative rhythm while sketching out compositions and beginning the painstaking process of appliqué. Each stitch became an act of meditation; a moment to connect deeply with the materials and the stories they held. This slower, more mindful approach allowed space for reflection, nurturing stronger connections between maker, material, and the narratives embedded within the work.

As the concept evolved, the process revealed the interplay of tradition and innovation.

Breathing New Life: Insights from Creation

The transition from sketches to physical materials brought a new set of challenges and discoveries. Each discarded textile presented its own unique constraints and possibilities. Appliqué emerged as my primary technique; a bridge between disparate elements and a means of creating cohesive, expressive compositions. The appliqué became more than just decoration—instead, it functioned as a way of sculpting with fabric; of creating depth and volume that honoured the natural drape and texture of the repurposed textiles. Each carefully placed piece added to the tactile story of the artwork as well as to the visual narrative, inviting viewers to engage and imagine new stories of their own.

The process of bringing the figures to life was one of careful measurement and intuitive adaptation. I found myself becoming a tailor of memories, measuring and patterning each figure to ensure a sense of realism and presence. The traditional techniques of quilt-making and duvet-crafting revealed unexpected avenues for exploration as I worked. Smaller-scale pieces emerged as intimate textile works that spoke to themes of comfort and protection.

The emerging artworks sparked a natural process of reflection and thematic exploration, revealing unexpected layers of meaning. This reflective journey, guided by principles of arts-based research (Leavy, 2015), led to rich insights about the transformed textiles and their significance.

The concept of “restful figures,” which emerged as central to this body of work, embodies the richness of themes uncovered through this creative exploration. These figures, woven from the very fabric of discarded memories, initially appear suspended between states of being. At first glance, they seem frozen in time, as if caught in an eternal slumber that mirrors the perceived lifelessness of the cast-off textiles from which they were born. Upon closer examination, the viewer realizes that these figures are not lifeless but rather in a state of peaceful repose. This realization mirrors the transformation of the discarded textiles themselves—the materials once considered “dead” or waste are given new life through the creative act of upcycling.

Examining the completed artworks, each piece a composition of repurposed materials imbued with new meaning, I am struck by the significant transformation these once-discarded textiles have undergone. What began as an exploration of textile upcycling has developed into a thoughtful examination of collective heritage, the nature of waste, and the capacity of artistic transformation to reimagine and elevate the overlooked.

Bridging Past and Future: Closing Thoughts

This project has revealed upcycling as a multifaceted practice that extends far beyond its environmental benefits. While preserving the artifacts, it simultaneously reimagines their significance, breathing new life into these discarded textiles and transforming them into dynamic vessels of evolving narratives. By transforming these textiles, they are not just conserved in a static form, but they are empowered to continue their cultural function in new contexts. This approach suggests possibilities for maintaining and adapting cultural traditions in a changing world while actively contributing to the ongoing formation and revision of identities, both individual and collective, as described by Kaufman (1986). The process of engaging with and reimagining these cultural materials invites individuals to reflect on their own relationships with these textiles, the memories they evoke, and the broader cultural narratives they represent.

Through the deliberate process of creating these works, I have come to understand textile upcycling as a form of embodied knowledge production. Working with these materials—experiencing their aged textures, interpreting their faded patterns, and revealing the stories they hold—has generated insights that extend beyond the visual. This hands-on engagement with collective memory offers a unique approach to understanding and preserving intangible heritage.

This artistic exploration unveils the potential of repurposed textiles to bridge the tangible and intangible, where they serve as powerful conduits that connect our physical world with the complex network of shared meanings, memories, and traditions. As we deal with pressing environmental concerns and navigate the currents of cultural change, this work underscores the important role of creative practices in shaping our future. It demonstrates how sustainable pathways can not only address ecological challenges but also nurture empathy, preserve cultural heritage, and enrich our collective human experience. In these transformed once-forgotten textiles lies a profound truth: the materials we cast aside often hold the key to understanding who we were, who we are, and who we might become.

figure 5

Mother and Child. Final work of appliqué on a worn rug, depicting resting mother and child. Created with repurposed textiles embodying memories, 45 x 55 inches. Mina Keykhaei (2024).

figure 6

Quiet Sleeper. Final work of appliqué on a worn rug, illustrating a figure in peaceful repose. Created with repurposed textiles, 40 x 40 inches. Mina Keykhaei (2024).

figure 7

Shared Rest. Final work of appliqué and quilting on a worn rug, featuring a couple in peaceful repose. Created with repurposed embroidered and plain fabrics, 50 x 45 inches. Mina Keykhaei (2024).

Works Cited

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Author Bio

Article Citation

Keykhaei, Mina. “Textile Narratives: Waste as Cultural Archive.” Fashion Studies, vol. 5, no. 2, 2025, 1-17. 10.38055/FS050205.