Embroidery

Trying embroidery, one uneven flower at a time

Mar 29, 2026

It started with a bag

Sometime this spring I decided I wanted to learn embroidery.

It started with a bag, a Uniqlo banana bag, beige. Are they popular where you are too? Here you see them everywhere. They’re small, cheap, and somehow fit everything, which makes them the kind of bag you reach for without thinking.

I bought one with a specific plan in mind: I wanted to embroider flowers on it and carry it on my summer trip. Not a vague someday project, a real deadline, a real destination. I had never embroidered anything before, and I didn’t want to go in completely blind. A kit felt like the right entry point, a way to learn the basics before attempting the thing I actually cared about making.

So I ordered a kit. It cost around 14€, which felt like the right amount to spend on something I wasn’t sure I’d stick with. It came with everything: hoop, needles, thread, a small instruction booklet with basic stitches. I worked through it for a while, dutiful, slightly bored, and then I grew impatient and moved straight to the actual project.

What could go wrong

What I didn’t account for was the cat. Thread is, apparently, irresistible. So is a hoop left unattended for thirty seconds. If you have a cat, add “managing the cat” to your list of beginner challenges.

The first real obstacle was the embroidery paper. I bought the cheapest I could find, around 9€, and it turned out to be a mistake. It wouldn’t stick to the bag. My solution was to embroider the paper directly to the fabric to hold it in place, which felt improvised and slightly chaotic but worked fine.

Another obstacle, and a persistent one: separating the threads. Embroidery floss comes in six strands and you’ll usually need to split them before you start. I work with 3+3, which feels like the right balance between speed and manageability. But pulling them apart without creating a tangled mess? I haven’t cracked that yet.

The unexpected wins

My favourite discoveries were a tiny piece of plastic, a stitch that took me forever to master, and a flower that made it all worth it.

First, the needle threader. It came in the kit, I dismissed it immediately, and it turned out to be the most useful thing in the box.

Then the French knot, fiddly at first, then suddenly obvious once you find the right explanation (thanks YouTube!). I still don’t get it perfect every time, but I read something that reframed it for me: you’re the one who stared at this for hours. You know every stitch that went slightly wrong. Someone else just sees the result. I’ve stopped unpicking imperfect knots. The process is supposed to be relaxing.

And then the rose, long to make, repetitive, possibly meditative depending on the day. But genuinely beautiful when it’s done. A little dramatic, in a good way.

What made it work

If I had to name what made this work for me, it would come down to two things: having a real project and having the flexibility to fit it into my life.

On the project side, it matters more than I expected. Not a hoop for the wall, not a practice piece that ends up in a drawer. Something with a use, a destination. The bag makes the hours feel purposeful, which is what keeps me coming back to it.

It isn’t finished yet. I underestimated how long it would take, which is completely reasonable given that I’d never done this before, and I kept having to negotiate with the cat.

But that’s where the flexibility comes in. Embroidery fits into an entire afternoon or into 15 spare minutes between other things. I haven’t once felt like I didn’t have enough time for it.

What you need to start

The honest answer is: not much.

The kit is the only essential. Pick one with colours you like, if you move on to a second project, you’ll be glad to have thread you’re already drawn to. The extra 100-thread pack was an indulgence and also absolutely worth it. More colours means more options, and options are most of the fun.

The transfer paper: worth buying, worth spending a little more than I did.