my secret life: a stitching story
from issue one: by Rachel Funari
My aunt taught me to cross-stitch when I was ten or eleven. She was the housekeeper for a Catholic priest, and every summer until I was thirteen I visited her and Father in the enormous rectory they inhabited in small-town Pennsylvania. This place had a kitchen as large as a cottage, and the upstairs had three bedroom suites — each with its own sitting room, bedroom, bathroom and colour scheme. My aunt would give up the blue rooms for me to have all to myself. She acted as though it was a vacation for her to sleep in the one single (orange) bedroom; the third (green) suite was reserved for visiting priests. In the evenings before bedtime, we’d gather in Father’s (brown) sitting room to watch television together. My aunt would sit on the couch, holding up a mirror and plucking her chin hairs. Father would sit in his large recliner and, hopefully, break out one of the boxes of chocolates he still had left over from Christmas. And I’d sit in the rocking chair between them, happily stitching away, concentrating on keeping the chocolate away from my work.
My mom and sister knit. I tried to learn, but my mom is right-handed and I’m left-handed and the lessons didn’t work. My aunt also taught me to crochet, but I only ever made a potholder. Cross-stitch is my first and only love. I used to make pictures for all the family — a little girl bear for my uncle, a quilting bee for my mom — and I took on big projects right from the get-go because I was, and always will be, lured by the pretty pictures. My pride and joy is a cross-stitch that took me over ten years to finish as I worked on it over school holidays and during quiet uni evenings. It is a picture of the three wisemen, resplendent in ornate cloths and cloaks and surrounded by farm animals. It has over fifty colours, metallic thread, tiny beads, and is stitched on beautiful antique blue fabric. My Jewish mom almost died when she saw my choice of pattern, but I couldn’t let its religious nature bother me, the thing was so gorgeous. I also have trouble letting an angel pattern go by. They are intensely popular and always lush. I probably have enough difficult patterns to last me the next ten years.
Whereas knitting is cool, many of you would probably die before you admitted to spending an evening cross-stitching. But, it could be that more of you do it than you think: I remember meeting a quite popular girl from my school on the street with her parents, and somehow the adults managed to reveal that we both cross-stitched. I was shocked to find her out. She turned red. It is only now that I volunteer the fact that I cross-stitch readily, mostly because I want to show off my hard work. But the few times I let it slip when I was younger, I found that there were other girls out there who stitched in their spare time or who wanted me to teach them how.
The benefits of stitching:
If you have a brain that never shuts down and cannot meditate, cross-stitch is an excellent relaxation activity because it takes constant concentration, leaving no room for idle thoughts. Unlike knitting, which can be done while reading, at the movies, in the car, whenever/wherever, you do need to be able to see to stitch. It works well while listening to the radio or music or watching television (warning: if you are really into the show, stop stitching or you’ll mess up — I suggest rewatching your favourite videos).
If you are completely inartistic, cross-stitching allows you to create a beautiful picture without having to be able to paint or draw. There are patterns out there for every taste and style. The cool thing about it is precisely that it takes two to create the artwork. You bring into reality someone else’s artistic vision. But do bear in mind, generally the more richly shaded and intricately detailed the pattern, the longer it will take you to finish and the more complicated it will be to follow.
Cross-stitch isn’t always cheap — the better the pattern, the more colours, the more expensive — but it certainly beats the cost of buying a painting or original print. Framing is the most costly part of the whole endeavour, but cross-stitches make great gifts because they are handmade and one-of-a-kind.
Finally, cross-stitch is easy. If, like me, you can’t count, then following the pattern accurately is the hardest part — though if you keep checking yourself, you can rip out your mistakes in time. All you do is create a bunch of x’s on a piece of fabric and watch addictively as a pattern slowly emerges. And it can be addicting. Cross-stitch is slow work, so you can stick into it for three hours before feeling like you got something accomplished, but when the whole thing’s finished… what a feeling!
