My sewing journey didn’t start gently. Oh no. Like everything I do, I went at it 100mph with a trail of mistakes, chaos, and plenty of “knickers, I shouldn’t have done it that way!” moments. I learned almost everything the hard way, usually twice, which means my journey is now a long, funny story full of disasters, triumphs, and a growing love for sewing itself. We’ve gotten to know each other very well, my sewing machine and I.

So, to save you from making every mistake I made (and from using far more fabric and money than strictly necessary), here are the top 10 things I learnt while teaching myself to sew.

1. Use a large stitch – easier to unpick and looks great when top stitching.

When I first started sewing, I didn’t even realise you could change stitch length or width. I spent more time unpicking than sewing, and honestly, trying to unpick tiny stitches is a punishment I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. And because my colour matching was spot-on, I couldn’t even see what I was unpicking.

To make matters worse, I sewed like I was on the starting grid at Silverstone. Full speed, full chaos, full “why is the bobbin doing that?” energy. At the time I didn’t have much spare time, stressful job, long hours, so I wanted instant results. I wanted projects finished the moment I started them. Friends have genuinely warned others about my hurricane mode.

Anyway, I digress.

Large stitches: they save your sanity. So much easier to unpick AND they look clean and smart, especially for top stitching.

2. When you start making silly mistakes, stop for the day

There were plenty of evenings where I sat sewing under what felt like candlelight, desperately trying to finish a quilt because I’d already been working on it for an entire hour and it still wasn’t complete.Alright, maybe not candlelight… but definitely a dim lamp that should’ve been retired years ago. (Lighting is another top tip, but we’ll get to that later.)

As the hours pass, the desire to see the final result takes over. That’s when you start missing the small things, the seam that isn’t quite straight, the pin you forgot to remove, the piece you’ve sewn on upside down. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. “No one will notice.” But then morning arrives, daylight creeps in, and suddenly that “tiny” mistake looks like a catastrophic design choice.

What follows is the standard process:

• spend a few hours procrastinating

• stare at the mistake hoping it magically fixes itself

• consider setting the whole thing on fire

• finally accept defeat

• open the drawer

• get out the unpicker

These days, when I feel myself slipping into Silly Mistake Mode, I stop. I put the project down, let the unpicker get cosy for tomorrow, and take myself to bed. Everything is fixable, just not when you’re tired and dramatic.

3. Measure Twice, Cut Once!

This one sounds obvious, and you’ve probably read it and laughed to yourself, but trust me, it’s only funny until you do it.

Years ago, fabric wasn’t quite as expensive as it is today. Even then, it was natural to try and save money wherever I could. But trying to save pennies with fabric? Terrible idea. Truly awful. Zero stars. Would not recommend.

All that happens is this:you end up stretching pieces that have no business being stretched and convincing yourself that a 2mm gap is “tiny”, when in fabric terms, 2mm is basically the size of the Grand Canyon.

And honestly, it’s not even the cost that hurts the most. It’s the disappointment in yourself. That moment when you realise your attempt to save a few pennies has now cost you £5 because you need another half metre.

But don’t panic, there’s always a silver lining. Hopefully you’ll have a lovely friend like I did who owned a haberdashery, so at least when you do inevitably buy more fabric, you’re supporting someone local.

So my point here is: measure that piece, and then check it again. It is also worth buying a little more than you think you need. You can thank me later… or send me the money you saved.

4. Invest in a Walking Foot – It Really Does Make Life Easier

I’d been sewing for a couple of years before I realised a walking foot was not a shoe you wear while hiking.(And for those who know me, yes, I’m aware hikers wear special boots. Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t always agoraphobic… although honestly, I’ve been practicing isolation since 2017. Anyway, I digress.)

Back to the walking foot.

Once you put one on your machine, I can guarantee it won’t be coming off. A walking foot has its own little set of feed dogs on top, working with the feed dogs underneath to grip your fabric evenly. It helps guide all the layers through at the same speed, which means no more sliding, shifting, or the dreaded “why has my backing wandered off again?” meltdown.

I’ve spent hours perfectly lining up my topper, wadding and backing, pinning it all to within an inch of its life, only to find everything had moved the moment I started sewing. Yes, part of the problem was my “sew like your life depends on it” speed… but the walking foot changed everything.

It holds that quilt sandwich together like its life does depend on it, meaning no more adding little extra bits to hide the places where the fabric shifted and the wadding decided to make an appearance.

5. Good Quality Fabric – Easier to Unpick, Less Movement

I don’t have pages to write on this one, but trust me: good quality fabric makes everything easier. I know it’s not always possible to buy the best, we all have budgets, but if you love the fabric, you’ll adore the finished project.

When you’re shopping for fabric, it’s not just about colour or pattern. It’s about feel. How does it behave when you run your fingers across it? Is it soft, smooth, bouncy, crisp? Your hands know before your brain does.

I’ve always been sensitive to textures. I once owned a sofa I physically couldn’t touch because the fibres felt like they were scraping my skin off. It had to stay covered permanently until I eventually replaced it with a beautiful pink velvet one. I stroke that sofa more than my cats, mostly because the cats prefer the sofa to my lap these days.

Anyway, back to fabric.

Better-quality fabrics are more forgiving. When you unpick, the needle marks practically disappear. They also cope much better when you use the seam ripper part of your unpicker. (Yes — there are two ways to use an unpicker. The holy grail deserves its own blog post.) Good quality fabric also moves and stretches less. You will want your fabric to stay in the shape and size you have cut.

Good fabric behaves. Cheap fabric… well, it acts cheap.

6. Get a Proper Craft Light – Your Eyes (and Seams) Will Thank You

I learned this one the hard way. There were so many evenings where I sat sewing under a dim lamp that barely lit the room, squinting at seams and convincing myself I could absolutely finish the quilt before bedtime. Spoiler: I couldn’t. And I definitely couldn’t see what I was doing.

Bad lighting turns a simple sewing job into a guessing game. Colours look different, stitches disappear, and suddenly every piece looks like it might be the right one… until morning arrives and daylight reveals the truth. And the truth is usually, “Why on earth did I think that was straight?”

Investing in a proper craft light was genuinely life-changing.Good lighting makes your stitches clearer, your cutting more accurate, and your mood significantly less murderous. You stop unpicking silly mistakes, stop misidentifying fabric pieces, and stop telling yourself “it’s fine, no one will notice”, because trust me, future-you will notice.

A bright, focused craft light isn’t a luxury.It’s a survival tool.

7. You Need a Plan – Failing to Plan Really Is Planning to Fail

I used to think planning was for organised people. You know, the sort who label things, fold fabric properly, and don’t end up with pins stuck in the carpet.I thought I could just wing it, cut a bit here, sew a bit there, and somehow end up with a quilt that didn’t look like a geography project gone wrong.

Shockingly… that’s not how quilting works.

When you don’t plan, you end up with pieces the wrong size, fabric that doesn’t match, seams that don’t line up, and a sinking feeling in your stomach when you realise you’ve spent two hours confidently sewing the wrong thing to the wrong place.

Planning doesn’t have to mean a full architectural blueprint.I’m talking simple things:

·       sketch the layout

·       count your pieces

·       label them (trust me)

·       write yourself a little list

·       double-check your fabric amounts

·       maybe even breathe before you start cutting

A five-minute plan can save you five hours of unpicking, panicking, and rummaging through the bin to retrieve a piece you threw away in a rage.

I used to dive into projects headfirst and hope for the best. Now I plan, because chaos is fun, but not when it involves wasted fabric and emotional damage and I have enough emotional damage for all of us.

8. Change Your Needle at the Start of Every Project

This is one of those tips that everyone knows, but somehow we all behave like sewing-machine needles last forever. They do not. They barely last longer than my attention span.

A blunt needle can cause skipped stitches, puckering, snapped thread, weird noises, and that sinking feeling when your machine suddenly behaves like it’s possessed. Nine times out of ten, the problem isn’t the bobbin, the tension, or the universe hating you.It’s the needle.

Needles get worn down, bent, and tired, especially if you’ve been sewing at 100mph like you’re trying to qualify for the Sewing Grand Prix. Starting each new project with a fresh needle makes everything smoother, cleaner, easier to unpick (when needed), and much less likely to end in tears.

It’s a tiny change that saves hours of frustration.Consider it self-care for your sewing machine, and for your sanity.

9. Life’s Too Short to Only Use White Thread

For reasons I still don’t fully understand, many new sewists act like white thread is the only thread that exists. I definitely did. I bought a giant cone of white and thought I was sorted for life,  as if every project I’d ever make would magically match it.

Spoiler: they don’t.

At some point you realise that white thread on dark fabric looks like you’ve drawn on it with chalk. Black thread on pale fabric looks like a crime scene. And matching the “wrong” shade of red? Absolute chaos.

The day I started buying different colours was the day my projects started looking intentional. Coloured thread blends beautifully, hides tiny sins, and makes your top-stitching look like you actually knew what you were doing.

Thread isn’t that expensive, and let’s be honest, life is simply too short to pretend white is the only option.Treat yourself. Buy a rainbow. Your sewing box will look fabulous, and your quilts will thank you.

10. Learn the Basics First – Don’t Try Free Motion Before You Can Sew in a Straight Line

Look, I get it. Free-motion quilting looks amazing. Swirls, loops, feathers, little fancy wiggles, all the things that make you point at someone else’s quilt and go, “Ooooh, I want to do that!”

But here’s the truth no one tells you:trying free motion before you’ve mastered sewing in a straight line is like trying to climb a mountain without hiking boots!

I learned this the hard way (obviously). There I was, confidently dropping my feed dogs like a professional, thinking I’d glide across the fabric like some kind of thread-based ballerina. Instead, it looked like my machine had suffered a nervous breakdown.

Straight lines sound basic, but they’re the foundation of almost everything you’ll ever sew. Once your straight seams are neat, consistent, and not veering off like you were distracted mid-stitch (guilty), then you can start playing with the fancy stuff.

Master the basics. Then break the rules.Your quilts, and your sanity, will thank you.

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