Badass Embroidery 101 – a newbie’s guide to thrifty badassery

I think hand embroidery has a bad rep. Largely because it’s…not naff…but incredibly freaking naff on the whole. There’s nothing wrong with florally adorned table cloths and handkerchiefs trimmed in lace if you’re into that sort of thing, but I’m just not that kinda girl.
As my brother so kindly pointed out to me on our most recent shopping trip: ‘all these other people look normal, but you? You look like a Tim Burton character. Seriously, you’re dressed like something from The Nightmare Before Christmas.’
With that in mind I give you my guide to freaky frugal fashion.

  1. Rummage the men’s sections of charity shops. Get your bargain hunt on! Go forth and forage!
  2. Acquire a men’s denim jacket for a ridiculously cheap price. Enjoy a self-esteem boost, ladies, when you discover that your ‘women’s large’ Amazonian-she-hulk-gladiator stature fits into a ‘men’s extra-small’.
  3. Bring your purchase home and hang it outside in the wind; because it may looketh barely worn, and it may have beeneth a steal, but it does smelleth most pungently of dudes.img_4779-copy
  4. Once you’ve aired the stench of random men-folk out of your new-second-hand garment the design phase begins. The design makes the product, my thrifty brethren, so take your time on this one and make it unique to you. You want the images to fit the shape of the jacket; think about it like the placement of tattoos – you want long shapes on long parts, broad shapes on broad parts, either deliberately centred or off-centred and facing the right direction. I think back-pieces look groovy and come with the added bonus of making you appear to be part of some exclusive motorcycle gang.
  5. Still stuck for a design? How about something from a dream, or your not-so-imaginary monster friend who happens to frequent the woods like a skeletal angel of death? Think about the freaky styley you want to achieve. Remember, this is Badass Embroidery 101, go hardcore or go home.

    In another anecdote from my most recent shopping trip –
    The jovial haberdashery owner asks: ‘Have you got any projects on the go right now?’

    ‘Oh yes, I’m making a dress and embroidering a denim jacket,’ I reply.
    My brother grins wickedly behind his moustache.
    ‘Right, but what are you embroidering on the back of that denim jacket?’ he questions, even though he already knows full well. He’s stitched me up right in front of this kindly stranger.
    I shrug, and with the assumed reticence of my Tim Burton worthy attire I utter simply:
    ‘A 30ft skull-faced antlered zombie deer guy.’

  6. Once you have some idea what you’re stitching hit up the nearest craft store and get yourself some embroidery threads. Colour-wise the choice is yours. I went for the ‘realistic’ tones of decay for my zombie deer guy, but you could just as easily go for the most psychedelic hues on offer.
  7. Trace your design onto a piece of grease proof paper, then pin the paper template where you want it on the jacket. Keep the material as flat as possible and use the natural weight of the denim to your advantage.
  8. In a light coloured cotton running stitch the outline over the paper through the jacket. This will give you a guide to embroider without having to make any marks in pen/pencil on the fabric itself. When you’ve stitched the outline of the design very CAREFULLY tear the paper off.
  9. Place an embroidery ring around your outline. This is essential as it keeps the fabric taut while you sew. Embroider without one and you’re liable to get puckers in your fabric. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You learn this the hard way.
  10. When you’re all set up pick a colour and start stitching! Stitching in contrasting directions will give the illusion of shape and depth. Don’t know what you’re doing? Anything goes. Here at Badass Embroidery we don’t play by the rules; get some thread on the fabric and see what you think.img_4637-copy
  11. Repeat the mantra: I am the Henri Matisse of embroidery floss, the thread is an extension of my own being. I am one with the zombie deer guy needlework. Bonus points if you’re muttering out loud in the garden when the postman comes down the path.
  12. Stitch. And stitch. And stitch some more. Embroidery is time consuming – you’re making every single mark to form the picture. Colour by colour the design will come to life (or death, if you’re sewing the antlered guardian of the Otherworld). If you’re a bit obsessive about getting it finished you may develop ’embroiderer’s arm’, an embroidery specific form of repetitive strain. This might manifest as aching, tingling or unpleasant weakness in your sewing arm which leads you to drop a bag of cat litter on your toe in Tesco and swear loudly in the crowded aisle. It should clear up when the embroidery is finished, unlike the mental scars which will last forever.img_4641-copy
  13. Admire your handiwork and wear it with pride. When people compliment you and ask where you bought it gleefully tell them you made that badass sucker yourself and it’s as bespoke as you are.
  14. Keep adding to it. Why not turn it into a long-term project and allow it to organically grow like the antlers of your zombie deer guy? The opportunities are endless.
    (Author’s note: if you’re really insufferable you could even document the whole process to post on your blog)

My jacket is nothing like finished; it’s going to take many more hours of sewing to complete the first (of many planned) designs. But I’m still wearing it as I develop it, and I love each and every stitch. 

Last Christmas I gave you some art…

This Christmas I had a fabulous plan. I would make all the gifts. They would be thoughtful and considered. It would be lovely.

And it was lovely – it nearly rendered me a mental breakdown, but it was lovely. Everybody adored their presents which made it all worth while.

I’ll never forget my Mum’s words as I handed her my present on Christmas morning:
‘Oooooh, it feels like a piece of wood!’ she crowed.
Erm, it sort of was. But it was a very nice piece of wood.

So, if you’re looking for a surprising gift next Christmas – they rarely expect a 2-foot abstract portrait of their rabbit…

I hope you had a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

The White Doe

I often have the most vivid, fantastic dreams so nearly real that I can reach out, touch, taste and smell them. Unlike the more mundane ‘little’ dreams – in which I’m frequently, for reasons entirely my own, stealing cutlery! – these are special somehow, with a depth I can’t comprehend.

It’s like these ‘big’ colourful, sensational dreams are fulfilling a purpose that I remain blissfully ignorant of. And they’re full of recurring characters that I’ve spent so much time with they’re almost like friends; one of these being Beatrice the white doe.

She’s large, glows like a light bulb, has golden eyes and antlers (despite being a doe), and speaks in the softest female voice imaginable. And when she says follow I just can’t help myself…

IMG_3385 watermark

The White Doe

Uncanny as in tales of old,
She’s as pure white as a dream-form,
Casting a haze, a blushing vision.
Her saintly shape seems filled with light.

That innocent’s face, its ethereal nimbus,
Her kindling look absolves my doubts.
Her eyes are golden globes of knowing;
Firm softness, grace, and trials ahead.

The willow limbs are fragile stilts,
Hard muscles sheathed in shining light.
Atop her head sit gilded branches
Their palmate tines proof of her lore.

Crowned with exception; ignoring triteness,
She disregards with easy poise.
But still her gilt eyes fix on me,
Their liquid centres molten ore.

I can’t escape the task she charges,
The path is marked with dreamer’s logic.
She turns and leaves with wraith like stealth,
I’m in pursuit, not far behind.

She carves a trail between the bracken
Almost unreal, a will-o’-the-wisp.
Lord knows I’ve no choice but to follow –
I’d chase her through the jaws of hell.

-redwellingtonboots

IMG_3387 watermark

The Winds of Change

At the moment the winds are changing.

I don’t mean blowing in a different direction. Symbolically there is change on the wind, and whenever it blows hard enough it takes something with it or deposits something new. Happenings are afoot; the very air is saturated with them.

It’s almost tangible: cobwebs on the face, a tremor of unease, and an inexplicable feeling that you’ve missed something blatantly obvious. It sits in a film of grease on the palate, smells of fried onions, burnt sugar and oceans of people – the biscuit-y scent of life and the salt on their skin. And the sound is unmistakable; a kiss of zephyr in the hollow behind your ear; creeping whispers from behind closed doors in a language you don’t quite consciously understand, but that strikes a cord much deeper down…

IMG_3327 watermark

Can You Feel The Winds Blowing?

Can you feel the winds blowing?
There’s change on the way.
But for good or for ill?
I’m unable to say.

It smells of performers,
Of travellers and singing,
Of fairgrounds, the circus;
The Changes – it’s ringing.

So anchor yourself
Through the pain and the strife,
Or prepare to embark
On the ride of your life…

Grab a hold of the cyclone
And don’t let it go!
Let the harsh torrent take you
The places it blows.

Meet kaleidoscope people
With bright, vivid eyes,
Who haven’t forgotten
The Earth is alive.

Sail on technicolour currents
Down rivers of dreams
Where the tangible world
Is not all that it seems.

Fall head over heels
Along time-travelled roads
Where foxes speak English
And princes are toads.

And flail around
‘Til you tear at the seams
While the vivid tornado
Engulfs your vain screams.

And what if you break?
Well, at least you’ll have tried!
Only one thing is sure:
It’s a hell of a ride.

-redwellingtonboots

It makes me feel restless and uncomfortable, wildly excited and terrified, claustrophobic but also within grasp of freedom. Like jumping out of an aeroplane and panicking, mid-fall, that you’re not wearing any safety gear, because you can’t remember putting it on and now your brain is foggy with terror and thrills. You’re committed to the ride, be that scenic or a face full of dirt and a broken neck.

As the Winds of Change tear mercilessly at my careful attempt at structure, I can’t help but wonder whether the foundations were faulty in the first place. Did I set my roots too shallow, or try building in a notorious hurricane path? Despite the carnage this might turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Maybe I’ll end up borne to more solid ground.

I just hope that in the beginning, in a moment of lucidity, I remembered my parachute!

Buck up, buttercup!

Some things in life are serious, but for everything else there’s laughter. Buck up, buttercup! It’ll all be all right in the end… 

IMG_3169 watermark

Buck up, buttercup!

Do buck up, buttercup!
Turn your face to the sun!
Your sweet little countenance
Mirrors his glory:
All bright yellow glamours
And gossamer rays.
There’s a tiny universe exists
On your surfaces –
Deserts of golden sands,
An oasis of dew.
So lift your fair head
On its delicate neck,
Arise from your reverent bow.
And worship, instead,
With the sight of your microcosm,
Your nimbus a-splendour
Beneath his hot eye.

-redwelllingtonboots