The Fallen Stitches
Let us not self-sabotage, settle or suffer in silence any longer
Riddle me this: how awful does it feel when you have to rip out / remove / “frog” stitches from your needlepoint canvas? Perhaps the color thread you were trying didn’t look right with the rest of the canvas. Maybe you were trying a decorative stitch that went wrong? Or (even worse) something spilled on your work-in-progress canvas forcing you to remove and redo the impacted stitches.
Super Side Note: legend has it, we call ripping out stitches “frogging” because in doing so, once must “rip it, rip it” out…..(“it” being your stitches).
I vividly remember the first time I had to remove the stitches I had already (lovingly) stitched. The background color I was using just was not cutting it no matter how much I tried to talk myself into thinking it was. It was awful. I had just started needlepointing and felt so foolish.
Naturally, I resorted to internally beating myself up for not foreseeing this color miss. Deep down I knew I was not the first or last stitcher to have this happen, but it still was frustrating. It still made me feel (dare I say aloud)……shame.
The above canvas (available here) almost had an all-white background instead of a “natural” shade background. I am so glad I didn’t settle for a color I was not fully sold on. Twilly sold out but similar here
If you are reading this right now and you find yourself thinking, “OMG this is exactly how I feel too!” I implore you to absolutely STOP that shame-train (of thought) right now.
Here’s why: it’s not just you.
The more I stitched, the more I got to know other needlepointers and the more I heard about fellow comrades who had similar run-ins with stitches that (begrudgingly) needed to be ripped out. And truthfully, this secretly always consoled me as I whispered to myself, “Ok good….so it’s not just me.”
Am I being overly dramatic about this topic? Perhaps.
Ok fine, I totally am.
But in my opinion, this is something we can be dramatic about. This realization that not every stitch is perfect the first time around is something that seems so obvious as I type the words now, but is something I wish my beginner self had the bandwidth to realize when I first started. Even now, five years into stitching this realization is a humbling gut-check and reminder I self-induce on a very frequent basis.
Whether we care to admit it or not, many of us needlepointers are (proudly) quite particular about how we want our project to look once completed. I mean, duh, this is the crux of the whole thing, right? We spend so much of our most precious resources (TIME, money, sanity, our soul, etc.) bringing a piece of our internal creativity to life. So why settle? Furthermore, why beat ourselves up for not settling. If something doesn’t look right, it probably isn’t.
Trust. your. instincts.
If you don’t like the way the stitches look, take them right on out.
I mean of course take a moment to appreciate (and not internally beat yourself up) for the initial effort you put into said stitches in the first place, but my goodness don’t let this recourse taint the rest of the joy your project has yet to bring you.
Personally, I find that the projects that take me the longest to finish because I’m ripping out stitches like it’s my job, are the ones I have an even deeper appreciation for. Exhibit A linked here. The finished piece is a physical representation that I did not settle and anytime I look at said piece it is a reminder to never settle. Not just in needlepoint, but in life too.
To really bring this point to life, I am launching a little campaign over on my Instagram page called The Fallen Stitches. The next time you go to rip out your stitches, pause for a moment, pay them the respect they are due and then snap a photo and tag me so I can share it with others.
I think it is so important (especially for beginner needlepointers) to see social proof that others do this too….especially the people who stitches we admire most (see: shop owners, artists, influencers, tastemakers, your needlepoint exchange partner, etc.). Consider it a place to pay homage to the stitches that didn’t make the final cut (pun intended).
My hope is that in doing this, it serves as a reminder to anyone who sees it to never settle. A reminder that you aren’t the only one who rips out your stitches, and that you needn’t self sabotage or suffer in silence any longer (you have plenty of others things in your life to do that with).
We all do it and you are not alone.
Cheers to never settling!
