Moths, Mending & the Magic of Lavender
A care and repair guide for cashmere and lambswool knitwear
This month’s blether comes from just over the garden fence…
Not long ago, my lovely neighbour popped round, clearly distressed. Her entire wardrobe—yes, you read that correctly—years of carefully chosen woollies, had been eaten. A full-blown moth invasion. Drawer after drawer, sweater after sweater, peppered with tiny holes and heartbreak. Most of it, she told me, would have to go. I stood by as she reluctantly put bag after bag into the bin.
But there were a few pieces she just couldn’t bear to part with. Beloved cardigans worn on winter walks. A cashmere jumper gifted on a birthday. She asked me if I could do anything to help, ever hopeful I might save them.
And we did.
Armed with a pot of tea, a handful of cashmere heart patches, and a little time, we brought those cherished pieces back to life, softening the sting of loss and stitching something beautiful back into being.
Her story reminded me of one of my own…
When Moths Found My Favourite Scarf
Last winter, I packed away my most beloved scarf- a soft, chunky lambswool one I’d worn faithfully for the past three years. It held so much meaning for me, more than I can really explain. I tucked it into a storage box in the garage, alongside a few other outdoor bits and bobs. Out of sight, out of mind.
Months later, or should I say moths later, I opened the box and found a heartbreaking sight: holes everywhere. My favourite scarf had become a moth feast.
It felt beyond repair. I’d read about visible mending and absolutely love the idea of it—encouraging repair over replacement—but staring at those gaping holes, I couldn’t see how I could bring it back.
And then I had a lightbulb moment.
I’d been saving scraps of off-cut cashmere from the cashmere lavender heart bags, and I thought: What if I turned them into little heart-shaped patches? Something soft and beautiful- something that would look and feel right, even over the damage.
That scarf became the very first piece I tried them on. It wasn’t just about hiding the holes—it was about giving the scarf a second life, not hiding the imperfections. And that’s how my Cashmere Heart Patches were born.
1. Care Starts with Simple Habits
Cashmere and lambswool are beautiful, natural fibres- soft, breathable, and biodegradable (which unfortunately also makes them delicious to moths). They deserve a little extra kindness to keep them looking (and feeling) their best.
Here’s how I care for mine:
Wash gently: I hand wash in cool water with a pH-neutral, wool-safe detergent. I never wring or rub- just press gently between towels and lay flat to dry. And I definitely don’t tumble them. (Trust me, they never forgive you—see Exhibit A: my once-proud socks thanks to my husband.)
Let them rest: Natural fibres benefit from a break between wears. I try to rotate pieces so they keep their shape.
Fold, don’t hang: Hanging stretches out the fibres over time—so I always fold and store mine flat in a bag is best to store them away from moths and anything else that fancies a nibble.
Keep them clean: Moths are drawn to natural fibres with a side of perfume, skin oils, or crumbs. I always wash before storing anything away for the season, or use a refresh spray if I’ve only worn it lightly.
2. Meet Your Knitwear’s Greatest Enemy: The Common Moth
Moths are tiny, but their damage can be devastating—especially to natural fibres like wool and cashmere. Their larvae feed on keratin in the fibres and often work quietly, so I don’t even realise what’s happened until it’s too late.
That’s what happened to my neighbour. And to me. And honestly, it’s more common than you might think! I literally just got an email last night about a friend who’s worried about moths in her house. Summertime is peak for moths appearing.
Even clean homes aren’t immune—especially if there’s a jumper tucked away with a bit of skin oil or biscuit crumb (we’ve all been there). But thankfully, I’ve found a few natural ways to fight back.
3. Natural Moth Defence: Lavender to the Rescue
I created my lavender hearts for this exact reason—but sadly, I hadn’t made them yet when my scarf went into storage.
Each heart is stitched and filled by hand in my little studio, made using offcuts of repurposed cashmere. I fill them with dried, organic lavender from Provence; chosen not only for its calming scent, but also for its natural moth-repelling powers.
I hang mine in my wardrobe to protect jumpers and wool coats, or tuck one into drawers with my knitwear. I even keep one by my pillow at night—it’s great for rest, relaxation, and peace of mind.
It’s a small act of care—with a big impact for your clothes (and your nervous system).
4. Mending with Heart: Repair, Don’t Replace.
Moth holes used to mean goodbye. But now, they feel more like an invitation—to slow down, care more, and find beauty in the imperfect.
The Cashmere Heart Patches I make come from scraps that would otherwise be thrown away. Now, they’re charming 2-inch patches that are:
Made from 100% repurposed cashmere
Easy to sew, embroider, or customise
Perfect for covering holes or adding a personal, decorative touch
Lou (my neighbour) chose a few soft greys and dusky pinks. We patched her favourite jumpers with care—and a touch of creativity.
And that old scarf of mine? It now wears those patches proudly. Every stitch reminds me that even the most worn-out things can become beautiful again—with a little time and a lot of heart.
Want to personalise your repair? Try embroidering initials or a tiny motif. Let your mend tell its own little story.
5. Build Your Own Care Kit
I always keep a little knitwear care kit on hand. Nothing fancy—just the essentials to keep my favourite pieces looking lovely for longer.
Here’s what’s in mine:
A wool-safe detergent
A sweater comb or lint brush
Lavender sachets (or one of my hearts)
A sewing needle, thread, and a few fabric patches
You don’t need to be an expert, just a bit of patience and the willingness to give things a second chance.
A Stitch in Time, a Story in Every Fibre
For me, caring for knitwear isn’t just about maintenance, it’s about memory, meaning, and making things last.
Whether I’m patching a hole in an old jumper, gently folding away a favourite cardigan, or hanging a lavender heart in the wardrobe, every act of care adds up. Every repair carries a story.
That old scarf of mine? I wear it again now. It’s not perfect—but it’s full of heart, embroidered with my boys initials because I wore this scarf to get photos on Mother’s Day with Magnus when no one knew I was pregnant with Axel.
So if you’ve got a piece you’re not ready to let go of, or a story like mine waiting to be re-stitched, drop me an email and maybe you could bring it round?
Let’s stitch it back together.
With love and lavender,