A Finished Sampler (and What I Learned Along the Way)
- Apr 18
- 3 min read

There’s a quiet shift that happens when you move from learning a technique to finishing a piece.
Up until this point, sashiko has been something I’ve been reading about, thinking through, and testing in small ways.
This week, it became something I worked all the way through—from marking the pattern to placing the final stitch.
And like most first projects, it didn’t go quite the way I expected.
Beginning Again (More Than Once)

I started with my scrap of espresso linen and a simple pattern, feeling fairly confident after reading through the techniques.
But the first challenge came before I even began stitching.
Marking the fabric was… harder than I anticipated.
The texture of the linen caught on my pencil, making it difficult to get clean, consistent lines. My markings shifted more than I realized at first, and when I stepped back to look at the pattern, the spacing was off.
So I erased it.
And tried again.
And then, once more.
By the third attempt, I was very grateful I had chosen a water-soluble marking tool.
Eventually, I stopped trying to follow the exact grid from the book and instead created my own spacing based on the size of the fabric I was working with.
That was the moment things started to settle.
Finding the Right Tools (or Making Them Work)

I experimented with a few different ways of marking:
a standard ruler
a quilting ruler
and finally, a sheet of computer paper paired with a cutting mat
Surprisingly, the paper and cutting mat combination gave me the most accurate results.
The pencil I was using didn’t stay sharp enough to mark closely against a ruler, and those small differences added up—sometimes shifting my lines by more than a quarter inch.
Using the paper as a guide allowed me to mark more precisely, without fighting the edge of the ruler.
It wasn’t the method I expected to use, but it worked.
Stitching on the “Wrong” Fabric

The linen I chose—left over from a cross stitch project—wasn’t ideal for sashiko.
It’s more open, slightly sheer, and not quite structured enough for this type of stitching. That made it harder to see my markings clearly and a bit more difficult to control the needle as I worked.
There were moments where it felt like I was working against the fabric rather than with it.
And yet, it still held the stitches.
It still allowed the pattern to form.
It still became something.
Learning the Movement

The stitching itself took some time to settle into.
At first, I couldn’t quite figure out how to hold everything comfortably. My hands wanted to default back to what they knew—pushing the needle through one stitch at a time, the way I would with cross stitch.
But sashiko asks for something different.
The needle stays relatively still, while the fabric is gathered onto it in small, even movements.
It felt awkward at first.
Unfamiliar.
But somewhere around the halfway point, something shifted.
My hands began to understand the motion. The stitches started to flow more easily. The second half of the sampler came together more quickly—and much more enjoyably—than the first.
The Rhythm of It

One of the things that surprised me most is that I enjoyed every part of the process.
Even the marking.
There’s a repetition to it—a quiet, steady pace—that feels different from other kinds of making.
But it only feels that way if you allow it to be slow.
If you rush it, it becomes frustrating.
If you settle into it, it becomes calming.
Sashiko isn’t a fast craft.
It’s one that asks you to take your time, to move deliberately, to let each step unfold at its own pace.
What I’ll Do Differently Next Time

This first piece gave me a much clearer sense of what I want moving forward.
I’ll be switching to a more suitable fabric—something with a tighter, more supportive weave.
I’ll also be using proper sashiko thread and needles.
Now that I understand the basic techniques and have experienced the process from beginning to end, it feels worthwhile to invest in tools that are designed for this kind of work.
Stitching Forward

Next week, I’ll be sharing the materials I’ve gathered and the next project I’ll be starting from the book.
This first sampler wasn’t perfect.
But it was enough to begin.
And more importantly, it was enough to understand why this practice has stayed with people for so long.

If you’ve been stitching along, I’d love to hear how your project is going.
And if you haven’t started yet, this is still a good place to step in.
Not perfectly.
Not all at once.
Just one stitch at a time.




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