Stitching Through the World Cup

Pink, Lace and Fútbol

This past week has been one of those wonderfully ordinary ones. It was filled with grocery shopping, chores, cooking meals so I could enjoy leftovers later in the week, and all the little things that somehow fill our days.

And then there was soccer. Or fútbol, as I still call it.

I don’t follow the sport or pay much attention to it, but somehow, every time the World Cup comes around, I find myself glued to the television. Thankfully, it’s the kind of event that’s easy to stitch through. I can happily listen while my hands keep working, only looking up when the commentators suddenly become much more animated! I am so thankful for replays!

This has been me – stitching before, during, and after matches.

• Pre-game: Stitching
• Kickoff? Still stitching.
• Halftime? More stitching.
• VAR review? Definitely stitching.
• Goal celebration? Needle safely in the air.
• Final whistle? Back to stitching.

While “watching” the matches, I finished one textile book (you can read about it here) and, immediately, began another, as I had been thinking about it for a while. This one is a complete change of mood, built around soft pinks, vintage lace, and well-loved fabrics. I’m experimenting with a concertina format this time, and I’m enjoying it so much that it has already inspired a new class. I can’t share too much about that just yet, but stay tuned…

One of the greatest pleasures has been working with treasured fabrics I’ve collected over the years – pieces I brought home from France and Australia, along with a few vintage fabric bundles I found at Quilt Canada in Winnipeg. I am also incorporating pieces of fabrics and lace gifted to me by friends. Every little scrap carries a memory, and it’s satisfying to see them slowly finding their place together.

I always have to laugh at myself because I spend far longer deciding where each piece should go than I do actually sewing it in place. Arranging fabrics is a puzzle I never seem to rush, and perhaps that’s part of the joy.

I also tried a new-to-me way of hemming the long strip of vintage sheeting I’m using for the pages. It was slow, but I loved the process and the finished edge was worth every stitch.

As I worked, my approach evolved too. I began by treating each page as its own little composition, but before long I realized it made more sense to work on two or three pages at a time so the design could flow naturally across the spread. Then, once I started adding hand stitching, I found myself returning to the earlier pages, adding a few more stitches here and there so everything felt more connected and cohesive.

I suppose that’s how many creative projects unfold. We rarely move in a straight line. We build, step back, revisit, adjust, and slowly discover what the work needs. Sometimes the process is just as important as the finished piece.

Thanks for reading. I am off to find some more lace to add to the book. Until I write again,

Ana

When Vintage Linens Become a Book