Snow blowers, kitchen knives, bicycles, lamps and vintage jewelry may not seem to have much in common. But on Saturday at the Repair Cafe at the Woodstock Community Center, they shared a second chance.
Nearly 100 objects, brought in by residents from across the area, were repaired for free by a team of neighborhood volunteers at the mutual aid event, which aims to prevent waste while bringing people together through hands-on problem-solving.
The Woodstock Repair Cafe is part of a growing local and international skill-sharing movement centered on a culture of care and repair. According to the Repair Café International Foundation, nearly 60,000 volunteers worldwide participate in repair cafes, fixing an estimated 70,000 items each month and pushing back against a throwaway culture shaped by overproduction, poorly made goods and mass consumerism.
Julia Kofke was among several Woodstock-based volunteers who arrived Saturday with a sewing machine in tow. “I love meeting people and mending—and I get to hone my skills at the same time,” she said, as she searched for a bobbin in a vintage Tupperware container—itself a reminder of an era when household items were built to last.
The environmental stakes are high. The UN Environment Programme reports that 92 million tons of textile waste are produced globally each year. While clothing production doubled between 2000 and 2015, the average length of garment use dropped by 36 percent. The fast-fashion industry is now the second-largest consumer of water worldwide and is responsible for roughly 10 percent of global carbon emissions—more than international aviation and maritime shipping combined.
After Kofke used a zigzag stitch to repair the sleeves of a well-loved cashmere sweater, Liz Harrington, one of the event’s volunteer greeters, introduced her to Debra Lavaggi, a Woodstock resident since 1971 who was attending her first repair cafe.
Lavaggi had just picked up her freshly sharpened kitchen knives from Steven Thomas, a first-time volunteer with expertise in restoration carpentry, leatherwork and jewelry. Next on her list was a bag of textiles. “I have beautiful clothing that I can’t wear because the elastic is gone,” she said, holding up a pair of faded purple pajama pants. Her top priority, though, was a double sheet she hoped to convert to a twin. “This sheet just feels so good to me. New ones are awful,” she said.
At another table, Dario Zanelli, 9, and his father, Renzo, sat across from Bob Bielecki, a sound system designer who regularly volunteers to fix everything from lamps to vintage electronics—including the family’s 1978 Speak & Spell educational game. The device had been “bent” in 2005, as noted by a signature inside, and modified to “make music weirdness,” according to Zanelli. Another repair involved fixing a USB cord.
“I want my boys to appreciate fixing things and not just throwing them away,” Zanelli said.
For the Zanellis—and for repair cafes more broadly—collaborative fixing offers a different relationship to everyday objects. “Once, our toaster wasn’t working so my brother and I went to town on it. We didn’t fix it but we had a lot of fun,” Dario said.
Not all repairs were mechanical. Joyce Reeves, 86, a psychotherapist, staffed the Listening Corner, an offering that may seem unexpected at a repair cafe. “It’s the community spirit that matters here,” she said. “People mostly come to fix concrete things but times are tough and people have a lot on their minds.”
Harrington said that, as a greeter, she hears people talk about the joy of the experience, not just the satisfaction of a fix. While they wait, visitors sit in a circle of chairs, striking up conversations with neighbors they may not otherwise meet.
“There is so much disconnection in our world right now. We don’t have as many places for people to be neighbors together,” said Caroline Ritchey, 64.
Inspired by John Wackman, a pioneer of the repair cafe movement in the Hudson Valley, Ritchey founded the Woodstock Repair Cafe in 2017 under the auspices of Woodstock Transition. The organization’s work helped make Woodstock the 115th official Transition Town in the United States, a designation reflecting a commitment to community resilience, mutual support and local action.
“This is an initiative that doesn’t divide,” Ritchey said. “Our flyer says ‘share skills, reduce waste, make friends,’ and people always tell me it’s true—that they made friends. It’s simple. People giving. People receiving.”
Chana Widawski is a contributing reporter. Send correspondence to reporting@theoverlooknews.com.