I attended a very traditional embroidery workshop a long time ago when the supplies list included an eight inch embroidery hoop (bound), six specific colours of a particular brand of thread and three needles of a certain size. On arrival we were given a square of fine cream embroidery linen and in the centre was a transfer of an intricate floral motif from the archives of a stately home.
Our teacher was fantastic, incredibly knowledgeable, and I loved how she shared the history of the technique and the design itself. Her demonstration was clear and instructive, the handouts and diagrams impeccable. I appreciated the skill involved and the beauty of what we were aspiring to achieve but (and perhaps I should have known) I lasted almost precisely one hour before frustration and fidgeting got the better of me. I couldn’t sit still, I had to keep going outside to rest my eyes and crick my neck. I felt foolish and more than a little annoyed with myself. My inner critic had a party.
I just couldn't do it. I couldn’t make the stitches small enough, regular enough, neat enough. The more I tried the worse it got - knots tangled, threads split and unsightly holes appeared in the fabric where I had to pull every few stitches out and start again. Despite extremely patient and generous encouragement, I remember leaving before the usual end of workshop show and tell, unpicking my square inch of stitching when I got home and stuffing the fabric panel into a box of remnants. I don’t think I’ve seen it since.
That workshop (and my struggles with super-fine thread and counting stitches) helped me decide what I did (and did not) want to make and stitch. I realised that I was not going to be a professional embroiderer, that I would never possess the fine motor skills (or eyesight) required to produce fine and fancy exquisiteness.
Since then my textile practice has developed and I’ve become more confident. My work moves between embroidery, quilting, drawing and collage and I return over and again to the same handful of stitches - running, blanket, chain, feather and knots. Like my handwriting, my stitches are my own. They are pretty regular but meandering, they have a kind of un-done-ness.
I write by hand (as well as stitch) every day - evenly spaced letters and words which loop and spike at slightly different angles depending on what I’m writing about, how quickly I need to make a note of something and whether I need to be able to read the writing later. I’ve also noticed that the more time I spend on my phone or laptop, the more I enjoy and need to use my hands to write, draw and stitch.
I also became somewhat hoop-phobic after that decade-ago workshop. I associated hoops and frames with neatness and a certain kind of unattainable precision. I have always preferred to stitch with fabric folded in my hands, enjoying the resulting gentle bumps and undulations made by the thread running through it with varying tension, some threads pulled too tight or left too loose. As you might have gathered I don’t want to stitch someone else’s design or copy a transfer. I prefer to use my own drawings, work intuitively, take the stitches for a walk (to paraphrase Paul Klee).
However, as I’ve been working alongside my students this year, I have started to re-appreciate the hoop and its benefits. In particular:
I enjoy filling the circle with shapes and lines, building up texture and filling the gaps with ever smaller stitches
I like the resulting circular pieces and am looking forward to finding a way to bring them together as a collection one day
I especially like the sound of the needle popping through the fabric stretched taut across the hoop
There is, of course, much stitch-hoopery to investigate online if you would like to have a wander with oodles of advice covering every single detail, hint and tip:
you could choose to bind your hoop with a strip of fabric before stretching your piece across it (this can prevent further stretching of your work and looks pretty)
there are frames of all sizes to choose from, usually circular or rectangular
you could choose wooden or plastic, occasionally metal, some frames are made to be displayed as frames for the finished piece
there are desk stands, floor stands, frames to balance on trestles, all of which allow your work to be positioned so that, if you choose, both hands can be free to work the stitches from either side of the fabric
There are many options to improve and enhance your stitching life and many people willing to sell them to you. In my opinion though - to begin with and for most projects - a hoop is a hoop. Charity shops can be a useful source, haberdasheries of course and Sostrene Grene offer a perfectly usable version for less than three quid.
As I encourage my students, I encourage you to learn a few basic embroidery stitches either with your friendly, neighbourhood textile tutor or by finding someone on Youtube who is focused on sharing their knowledge of stitches rather than selling you a kit, a pack, a PDF. And, as in most other activities, I’d strongly recommend a focus on enjoyment and comfort rather than perfection.
Once you have acquired your chosen hoop:
select a piece of fabric that feels good to you and try to use whatever you have to hand. You do not need to buy a piece of pristine, brand new linen. You can use fabric gleaned from cotton tote bags, old shirts, domestic textiles and don’t forget to ask family and friends if they have spare equipment, fabric or threads. Visit charity shops and boot sales for similar supplies.
start simple and if you feel more comfortable, once you’ve stretched your fabric across the hoop, draw a couple of small shapes and fill them with your newly learned stitches. You can buy all kinds of fabric marker that will disappear/washout/fade but, to begin, any fine tipped pencil or pen will do - you can just stitch over it as you go. You may have ambitions to work in a couture embroidery atelier one day but, to begin, just make things easy for yourself and enjoy the process of learning as much as you want to
use thread that is pleasing to you in colour and texture, try different combinations
play around with the basic stitches, lengthen them, shorten them, layer them on top of each other, think of this as scribbling in the margins
Here’s last week’s hoop-in-progress…
I hope you’ve enjoyed this bit of circular thinking and thank you for taking the time to stop by. Your subscribes, shares and comments are much appreciated.
Have a great week.
J x
What a fabulous post - giving me permission to give myself permission to do it My Way (thank you Frank!) very best wishes, Janet