Embroidery Samplers : Reflections
Reflection by Lucie von Schilling
I am very familiar with embroidery, but not cross-stitch specifically. I usually embroider large intricate patches onto the backs of denim jackets. So this craft is relatively new for me.
I enjoyed scrolling through the DMC site and selecting my pattern. There are so many beautiful possibilities! Although, one must always be mindful of scaling. Since I don’t cross-stitch, I did not have the proper cross-stitch fabric. Instead, I used this adorable green gingham that I bought to make masks from at the beginning of the pandemic. I am really quite proud of this moment of ingenuity. The little squares mimic aida cloth, and they made it easy to get unified stitches. However, the squares are quite big in comparison, so I had to select a pattern that was smaller.
I decided on this adorable pattern called “Summer Flight.” The honeybee is the biggest part, so I stitched her first. The DMC patterns are helpful because they are on a grid, so I was able to find the bee’s centre by counting squares both on the pattern’s grid and on my fabric. I did the same for the little blossoms, so I ended up with seven tiny patterns with individual centres, if that makes sense. This allowed me to place all the components in different places on my hoop. I am so happy with the result! I call my cross-stitch “Honeybee Picnic.” So cute.
Cross-stitch sort of feels like a leap of faith, in a way. It surprises the maker. At first, I found myself unable to visualize how each stitch would come together to form an image. It is like magic.
For me, cross-stitch took some time to adjust to. I found the scaling tricky to figure out. Even as an experienced embroiderer, I found it intimidating to begin. As I went, Jocelyn’s tutorial was my rock, my guide. Whenever I felt lost, I could rely on their well-thought out guide to ground me. I highly recommend their tutorial!
Reflection by Kiarra Burd
For a long time, I had wanted to take up embroidery, but I always imagined that it was too complicated. Even shopping for the materials intimidated me: where to find them, which cloth to buy, what kind of thread count the cloth should have, what size of hoop I would need... Once I got started, however, I recognised that my hesitation was unjustified. This isn’t because I didn’t mess up; in fact, I made multiple mistakes. I bought the wrong type of cloth, broke a bunch of embroidery thread, used the wrong colours, and miscounted stitches over and over again.
Usually, these kinds of mistakes discourage me from continuing, as I’ve experienced in the past with drawing, painting, and baking; however, with embroidery, it was different, more meditative. When I realised that I had not only bought the wrong type of cloth but also misjudged the scale of the pattern by failing to check its dimensions, my impulse wasn’t to give up. Instead, I felt compelled to find a way to make it work by adapting the design. This sense of liberty is reflected in my design, as I continuously reworked it to make the celestial figure more playful.
Another mistake I made was about timing. I misjudged the focus and effort required to mimic what seemed to be a simple design. Nonetheless, compared to my other deadlines for school, working on this project felt like a welcome respite from the Sisyphean effect that a handful of due dates can have on an undergraduate student. There are very few excuses I can conjure up to sit on the couch for hours on end and intensely focus on a single object, a single motive, with nothing else on my mind.
