I recently tried to repair my vacuum cleaner. It was gruelling. The experience got me thinking a lot about repairs.
There is a resurgence of the “make do and mend” mentality across Europe. More and more people want to fix their appliances, electronics, clothes, and knick-knacks. Due to cost or accessibility of service, the barriers to repair are often so high though that in many cases it is easier to throw away and buy anew.
Over the past year, I’ve come across the Right to Repair movement several times, especially following the EU’s landmark 2024 directive pushing manufacturers to offer repair options during and beyond legal warranty. It’s a recognition of the environmental and social costs of our “throwaway” culture—and a push to reclaim our relationship with our objects.
But repairing isn’t just about environmental impact. Over the past decades, the way we value our belongings has fundamentally changed. Many of today’s purchases—especially in fashion and home decor—are designed to be disposable, not cherished keepsakes or items meant to be passed down.
Repair has also long been a collective act of resilience. Following natural disasters, wars, earthquakes, people have often historically come together to repair. I remember seeing images of “Trümmerfrauen” in school - the women who rebuilt German and Austrian cities following World War II. I am now seeing similar images emerging from Beirut after the port explosion in 2020, from areas devastated by climate change and floodings, and from current war zones (for example, this team rebuilding homes in Ukraine or this one restoring photographs after the floods in Spain).
There's a lot of research on production and consumption and, I would argue, repairing is just as crucial when we reflect on our relationship with the material world in a meaningful way.
When was the last time you tried to repair something? An item of clothing that got ripped, a phone that suddenly did not turn on anymore, a kettle, a printer, a chair. Let me know!
Sanjna
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