The Great British Sewing Backlash

For an oversensitive creature like myself, the downside to The Great British Sewing Bee is that our gentle pastime is attracting attention outside our circles and provoking derision and sneers!  Oh yes, what the world right now needs of its women is delivery from nuclear perish; perhaps one brave volunteer could ensnare into a honey trap and disarm the-not-as-cute-as-we’d-thought Young Kim?  Not – as my favourite radio show mocks – sit sewing with programmes about retro midwifery on the bleedin’ telly!

And you, Punt and Dennis? 😥

Whilst I rarely wish to take part in Guardian-bashing, I’m bristling (a bit) at its treatment of TGBSB.  In his TV round-up, Andrew Collins skims over the content and whines “I don’t care!”  And the Guardian’s TV guide previews  the programme with an incredulous: “Who still has time to sew?!”

Er, I do! 

For the past two weeks, I’ve been looking after a varying collection of 8 to 13-year-old children, some of them mine.  It’s a nice job, requiring not much more than checking for blood, providing meals and a daily airing.  During this time, I was faced with the usual conundrum of what to do when a child has a friend’s birthday party coming up: do I buy or do I sew? 

Option 1: My Usual Stand-by

What do you buy a child who has everything?  Well, more of everything…   A packet of Moshi monsters and a novelty pen from my most-adored stationers.

Total cost with card and giftwrap: £7.50 to £10, depending on whether the Moshis are on sale.

Advantages: quick, easy and once the gift is bestowed, you can forget about it, unless… you’re the type to be guilt-ridden about adding to the plastic toy reject mountain.  Catholics and hippies are particularly prone here, and I’m a bit of both…

Option 2: a Personalized Cushion Sewn by Someone with Too Much Time on Their Hands

Total cost: slightly cheaper than option 1 if you don’t count the hourly sewing rate.  You need to buy (or make or reuse) a cushion pad.  I’ve also used an old concealed zip but you wouldn’t need one for an overlap design like on this Space Invader cushion.  For the fabric, most of us have stash, though I found that the Guitars remnant I’d  set my heart on simply didn’t provide a good enough contrast (see right).  Instead, I bought half a metre of a “dragster cars” print from Rolls and Rems.

Time taken: 3 hours, half of which was spent planning and unpicking the concealed zipper from an old dress.

Advantages: unique and useful.

Disadvantages: the uncertainty.  Will Sonny like it?  My kids reckon yes and strangely, I find I care less than I would with the plastic toy mountain.

Option 3 would be some money in a birthday card, but then the question would be how much money?  I wouldn’t hesitate to give a tenner to a child of 12 or older  (so they could treat themselves to some fags and alcopops 🙂 )   But turning up to a-nine-year-old’s party with money seems like handing in an entrance fee.  What do you think?

 My New Favourite Font

I’ve made personalized pressies many times before but one thing I’ve learnt from planning this project – which will speed things up if I make a cushion like this again – is to adapt the design to the age and gender of the kid.  Out went the rounded letters, in with the Collegiate Border font.  It’s a good one as it won’t use up much of your printer ink.  The free download is here.  For 7cm tall letters like mine (on a 41cm square cushion pad), select a font size of 200, print and cut out to make templates.

10 thoughts on “The Great British Sewing Backlash

  1. YESSSSS. Every penny spent on plastic crap irks. Lovely solution. Although, given fashion for inviting the whole bleedin’ class in these parts (25 x cushions anyone?) think will reserve for special friends only. Mothers of Britain, can’t we all come to an agreement? Say, five quid and a card. Universally. Law. The Rules.

    Afterthought: I’ve done a couple of massive hair bows as presents for girls. Can’t remember the website but it was Texan if I recall. Pretty hideous but ditch the satin bows for Liberty tana lawn scraps and v v lovely. And appreciated.

  2. Lord I didn’t know there was a backlash. Hang on a minute, cooking and baking ‘could be considered’ home wifery so what about the large chunk of reality TV content devoted to them? Oh, that’s right, everyone wishes they could cook and had more time to do so! Phhhhhhhht.

    OK I’m off my soap box. I am going to keep sewing. Don’t care.

    Speaking of which thank you for the cushion font info – good pick! And I couldn’t agree more about the damned plastic stuff. I’m going to get onto aprons and cushions too for the next ones I think. Much more fun for me and (hopefully) the recipient.

    And what is it about crusts on bread? I just don’t understand that and I need to get me some chickens for the back yard just to consume the mountain of crusts my two reject daily.

    • TBF, those are not ordinary crusts! They’re wheat-free bread crusts and my son says they’re so horrible but he’d eat ordinary bread crusts if he could…

  3. Brilliant post – while being incredibly funny, witty and acerbic you have also hit on the truth. I sort of want sewing to remain a quiet, secret activity just amongst us! I too am an avid listener of Radio 4

  4. Yes, I try to avoid plastic whenever too. Sad to hear the negative comments. But what do we expect from people who find it easier and entertaining to mock. And I agree I would like sewing to remain our little secret. But the good news is that many will try it but few will stick with it. I like this show because it shows that sewing isn’t as easy as some make it out to be.

  5. Sewing singled out for scorn? Well, the rest of the tv output is sooooooo relevant, challenging, upbeat, informative, investigative isn’t it? Great little cushion though.

    • Thanks!
      As for the Bee, I wonder if there’ll be a second series? And if so, shall I let you know when they’re looking for contestants:-) !?

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