Awhile ago I posted about the seal hunt and its importance in Inuit culture. One of the reasons it is so important is that sealskin is frequently used in making clothing and boots. I've already told you all about my sealskin boots that I picked up last fall and LOVE. They were manufactured commercially using sealskin harvested here in the north. They are also nice and warm, I have found them comfortable down to about -30 degrees.
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| The boots I purchased in November. (source) |
Around town I have seen women wearing absolutely gorgeous sealskin boots. They weren't like my sealskin boots. These looked looked unique; with colourful embroidery and a soft sole. My first thought was "What kind of boots are those?", followed quickly by: "Where can you get them?" Turns out, these other boots are called "kamiks"(or kamiit depending on who you talk to) and each pair is made by hand. The designs in the sealskin are unique to the community where the kamiks are made.
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| Kamiks on facebook. |
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| Another style of kamik. |
Of course, I decided I wanted a pair. I mean, LOOK at them! Getting my hands on them, however, is not as easy as walking up to a store and purchasing. I would need to find someone willing to put in the hours to custom-make them for me. That didn't seem easy. Would I just walk up to random strangers and ask "Who made your kamiks? Would they make me a pair?" I'm an introvert. That's not my style.
Then I heard about a course offered each year in making kamiks. That would be awesome! I wouldn't need to find someone to make me a pair, I could make my own! I started asking around for more information about the course. In a previous life I made prosthetic limbs, surely kamiks wouldn't be beyond me, right? For weeks I daydreamed about various designs and patterns. Then I found out that participants for the course are selected via lottery. Materials are scarce (and expensive). Instruction is intense, and learning requires a lot of one-on-one interaction. Only a handful of people are randomly chosen. Every year many, many people submit their names. Some people have been trying for years.
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| Results of a course on making kamiks in Arctic Bay. They are BEAUTIFUL! |
I decided that I will still put my name forward for the course when the opportunity comes, but I want a pair whether I'm chosen to participate or not. So, in the meantime, I would start looking for someone to make me a pair of kamiks. I pulled up my big-girl pants, shoved my introverted self to the side, and threw out the question to random strangers on the internet (much easier than in person). "Looking for custom kamiks. Can anyone make me a pair?" I got a few responses, all people suggesting OTHER people who might be able to help me. No one came out and said "I can do that for you!" So I contacted a person whose name had been suggested.
She responded (wahoo!) and said she already was working on some custom orders but would be willing to make me a pair when she was finished. "Yay!", I thought. "I've hired a random person on the internet to make me a pair of custom kamiks! I really hope she knows what she's doing! I hope she really is good at making kamiks!"
Turns out, she knows her stuff. I don't know the entire process, but I asked a lot of questions along the way. This lady was kind enough to tell me and send me photos. Here is what I know went into making my kamiks:
First, she had to acquire the materials. This in itself can be a challenge. She needed fabric, two different kinds of sealskin, cord, thread, etc. Next, and this is the most time consuming part, she had to chew the bearded sealskin (with her teeth!) to make it soft and pliable. This part ends up being the sole of the boots. Apparently there is a tool available to do this now, but many Inuit, like the woman making my boots, still do it the old fashion way (using their teeth).
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| Bearded sealskin ready to be made into a sole (before the chewing). |
After chewing, she coated the leather in oil. Then, she dipped it in seawater from the harbour (every year she gets a big bucket of seawater before the harbour freezes). Then she chews the leather again, cuts it to size, and shapes it. Next she had to design a pattern and sew the top part of the boot.
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| Stretcher for the leather sole. |
Stage 2: making the top of
the boot.
This top part of the boot was made using ring sealskin (from a ring seal). (Bearded seal is used for the soles because the leather is thicker.) Ring seal is used for the top part because the fur is softer and more plush. The white part above was made by scraping the skin with an ulu (traditional women's knife) against the grain. Then it was dipped in boiling water and left outside. The sun reflected off the snow bleaches the leather. I was advised that if the white part ever starts to turn yellow I can use a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser to try to turn it white again. Then I am to wipe it off with a damp cloth, and hang the boots outside to bleach again. (But not until after I wrap the boots in rope. If I don't the ravens will pick the boots apart. Apparently ravens are afraid of getting twisted up in rope so it keeps them away.)
The top of the boot is sewn to the bearded sealskin sole. The next step is making the duffel socks. These are traditionally hand-sewn, but some people use a sewing machine. There are 2 parts to the duffel sock--a thick sock with a second "bootie" added to the foot for extra warmth. After the duffels are sewn into shape they are typically embroidered or decorated with ribbon. The possibilities for the duffel socks are endless. I knew I wanted blue flowers and green leaves on mine.
Finally, after a month of anticipation, I got the a message through Facebook that my kamiks were ready. I drove to the home of the woman making them to pick them up.
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| The lady's house where I went to get my kamiks. |
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| Facebook pic of my finished kamiks. |
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| Putting on the duffel socks. The red part is the second "bootie" for extra warmth. It isn't attached and fits on after the first sock. |
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| Sliding my foot into the boot. |
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| Tying the cord while the artist checks the fit. |
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| And voila! |
I've been told to keep my kamiks in the freezer (or in a cold porch) when I'm not wearing them. This will help to keep them soft and prevent them from drying out. I'm not supposed to wear them if the snow is wet (they are waterproof but its not good for the leather). I'm also not supposed to wear them "down south", because the salt the roads can puncture the soles (not to mention damage the skin/leather).
I'm still hoping I can take that kamik-making course offered in the new year. I think it would be a blast, and I could make a pair for Coraline. Fingers crossed!
Update: so what is it like to wear kamiks? Strange! There is no hard sole on the bottom, so it feels like I'm wearing thick socks. This means I actually need to pay attention to where I put my foot down as any ridges or small stones are easily felt (I had to clench my teeth together the first time I mistakenly stepped on a stainless steel ridge walking through a door). Also, I find them a little slippery on floors (but not outside on the snow), and uncomfortable when shopping for groceries. They are obviously not meant for hard, concrete floors. Imagine walking around Costco in socks--its like that. Although beautiful works of art, this is footwear designed for a specific purpose in mind: walking in cold, dry snow.
Up next: It may be time for a controversial/"parental guidance advised" post. I've been holding on to this one for a couple of weeks now. I've mostly shared the good stuff about living up here so far (lack of school days for my darling children notwithstanding). However, its not ALL sunshine and roses. Check back Thursday to find out what's been going on.
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