stitchmaxxing my way through summer

I first heard the term ‘maxxing’ a couple of months ago, thinking I had somehow picked up on a new-fangled online trend and that I was quite clever (at my age) to have done so.

This, unsurprisingly, has proven not to be the case at all as I learned from Tim Dowling a few days ago that it’s actually been an internet thing for a decade or so and can be applied to almost everything. Hey ho. Am late to the party.

this week’s blast from the past, primary school stitching

In any case, just to join in and to see what you think I thought it would be fun to propsose a couple of maxxes of my own.

For example, I am often found indulging in a spot of teamaxxing, love a bit of sleepmaxxing and then it struck me - more often than not, I am either stitching, thinking about stitching or talking about stitching with anyone who will listen. I appear to be, wait for it……stitchmaxxing.

I’ve written before about how I like to find opportunities to stitch in the car, on the train and on the sofa - anywhere, in fact, where no-one minds if there’s a woman of a certain age quietly filling a square of vintage table linen with french knots or blanket-stitching her way around a recently pieced quilt or fabric vase.

I think stitchmaxxing is precisely what I am doing when I take advantage of something else going on (e.g. sport of any description/less than challenging Netflix plot lines/a long motorway drive) and I use that time to pick up fabric, needle and thread.

To my mind, it’s a kind of creative second-screening, I’ve just replaced the additional tech with something more analogue.

Stitchmaxxing could also, I suppose, describe those times when a piece of work requires prolonged attention, or a more than usual level of concentration. And, of course, there are those times when deadlines loom and I’m stitching against the clock.

As we’re at peak sport AND peak swelter in our neck of the woods, this week has been a perfect opportunity for some dedicated stitchmaxxing.

There’s something to be said for the opportunity to spend ninety minutes (plus hydration and stoppage time) to accumulate lines and lines of running stitch while the footy’s on. Fiercely contested, four/five hour long Wimbledon matches are also perfect to get those tricky unfinished projects done and dusted.

In between a trip to the opticians for some belated spectacle selection (not easy in a heatwave and when I can’t see what the frames look like without taking a selfie and putting my existing glasses back on to have a look), a grand day out at the inaugural RHS Badminton garden show and a sustained bout of bookshelf cleaning and sorting, I’ve been taking my sewing kit to the cooler corners of the house at frequent intervals in an attempt to re-calibrate my inner temperature gauge.

It’s been a useful strategy. Can recommend.

In other news this week has also seen the much-anticipated delivery of the Bayeux Tapestry to the British Museum in its special crate and under the cover of darkness. Now in its designated safe place (and not left behind the neigbours’ bins) its arrival has prompted nine-hour queues to book a ticket via the museum’s website.

Cover, The Bayeux Tapestry by Eric Maclagan (1949)

The first batch of time slots has already sold out and if this is of interest to you it would be wise to sign up to the museum’s newsletter to find out when to start queuing again in October.

I would like to see it at some point and it will, no doubt, be beautifully curated and displayed but having visited Bayeux a while back where we saw it in what I remember as a very dark, virtually empty room, I’ll hang on until the new year before trying to nab a ticket. I am optimistic that fewer people will want to visit on, for example, a dark, rainy Tuesday morning in February.

I also have a mind to visit Reading Museum in the meantime where there is a full-sized replica stitched by a group of goodly Victorian women back in c.1885.

To enter into the spirit of things, I dug out this little illustrated book and did a little online research to share the principles of Bayeux stitch at a recent Monday morning workshop. In the process I came across Mia Hansson - someone who beats me (and possibly 99.9% of any of the other embroiderer/creative textile artists I know) on the stitchmaxxing front.

In 2016 Mia embarked on a more than ambitious project to replicate the Bayeux Tapestry single-handedly and you can read more about her and her work here. There are some great pictures of the project to date on her Instagram too if you’d like to take a look.

I take my hat (and embroidery hoop) off to her. Who knows how many people worked on the original but 35 Victorians were involved in the replica version. Amazing stitchmaxxing from all involved..

I leave you this week with a photograph of a hexagon quilt which has been liberated from the cupboard (along with the rest of my small collection of thrifted quilts) to get some air during this bright, hot spell.

I can’t recall where I picked this up but I can be fairly confident that it was made from old clothes and domestic textiles. I would say late seventies/early eighties but am more than happy to be corrected.

I love the way the prints and colours contrast with each other and the slightly irregular rhythm of the plain central hexagons, punctuating each print. I do wonder why that collection of plain blue hexagons was plonked slap bang in the centre though, disturbing the print/central hexagon pattern. Perhaps it could have been used elsewhere or, better still, broken up with some of the haphazard prints.

It’s definitely another example of stitchmaxxing though - a labour of love and domestic thrift.

Thank you, as ever, for taking the time to read this week’s slow, quiet note.

These slow Sunday posts are free to read but a coffee is always appreciated. If you would like to help me connect with other readers, writers, artists and makers here you could also take a little time to like, share or re-stack this post.

Have a great week.

Janice x