What is slow stitching?

I was chatting with a friend the other day and happened to mention my slow stitching project.

“Slow stitching? Do you sew in slow motion or something?” she asked, giving me a look that clearly said she thought I’d lost the plot.

Instead of pointing her to an online search, I saw it as an opportunity to share what slow stitching truly means to me. Maybe you’re curious too?

Think of those embroidery kits you see in shops. You know the ones—a perfect picture on the front, promising your finished piece will look just like it. Every stitch is planned, and while it’s satisfying, there’s little room for surprise.

Slow stitching is the opposite of that. It’s about starting without knowing how it will end. No charts, no rigid rules—just your needle, fabric, thread, and creativity. It’s like reading a mystery novel, where the fun lies in the journey, not just the ending.

Every stitch belongs to the moment. Some might meander across the fabric while others build up layer upon layer.

It’s not about perfection; it’s about exploration. There’s a certain freedom in letting go of expectations and simply enjoying the process.

The Pleasure of Uncertainty

For me, slow stitching is like wandering down a quiet, winding country lane—no map, no plan, just the joy of discovering what’s around the corner.

Each choice—what color to pick, which stitch to use, or whether to try that textured thread—feels like a mini adventure.

The freedom is exhilarating. No one tells you what’s right or wrong. Some days, a simple running stitch suffices; other days, I’ll experiment with something intricate. The joy lies in the spontaneity and the personal connection to the work.

Slow Stitching and Tradition

Though it sounds modern, slow stitching has deep roots.

Take Japan’s Sashiko, for example. This practical technique began as a way to strengthen and repair worn clothes with running stitches. Over time, it evolved into intricate, beautiful patterns. The Japanese even have a name for these lovingly repaired fabrics: Boro.

When I stitch scraps together, it’s like creating a blank canvas. From there, embroidery stitches add decoration as the mood strikes. Mistakes? They’re just part of the charm.

Getting started with slow stitching

One of the joys of slow stitching is its simplicity.

Start by gathering materials—repurposed fabrics, new scraps, or a mix of both. Textures matter since you’ll spend hours holding the fabric. Some pieces might carry memories; others just catch your eye.

I usually start with a plain, light-coloured backing fabric. If I’m feeling organised, I might pre-cut the pieces to the same size for easier assembly later. But that’s where the planning stops.

The real fun begins when I pour out my scraps, run my fingers over them, and let intuition guide me.

To hold the pieces in place, I use long, loose tacking stitches, with more thread on the back than the front. Some prefer glue or spray adhesive, but I lenjoy the tactile experience of stitching. This hands-on approach makes the process feel creative and free-flowing.

If you’re curious to see how it all comes together, I’ve recorded a video of one of my slow stitching projects. Below is the final front cover I created in the video.

The Stitching Process

Planning? That’s not my style here either. Sometimes the fabric itself suggests where to begin—a flower might call for an outline, or a gap might inspire a bloom of its own.

Lines don’t need to be ruler-straight, and spacing doesn’t have to be perfect. These imperfections are part of what makes hand embroidery charming.

Each stitch feels like a conversation with the fabric. Unexpected pairings of scraps can spark new ideas, adding colour or stitching to disguise elements that don’t quite fit.

At some point, I pause and ask, “Is it done?” Sometimes the answer is clear. Other times, the piece needs one last touch to feel complete. I let the work decide.

What to do with slow stitching?

A finished piece becomes a tangible record of my creativity. It doesn’t matter what others think—the joy came from making it. Sometimes I turn these pieces into something practical, like bags or wall hangings. Other times, I leave them as they are, ready to be admired and touched.

The benefits of slow stitching

The real magic of slow stitching lies in the process, not the outcome. The rhythm of the stitches calms my mind, offering a meditative escape from daily stress.

Using recycled materials adds another layer of satisfaction—it’s not just thrifty but sustainable, reducing waste and supporting the environment.

And the best part?

Anyone can join. Grab some fabric and thread, and start stitching your way to a greener, more creative world. Will you give it a try?