How More Shabby Than Chic began, quilting and handmade crafts

About Me

Who's the woman behind More Shabby than Chic? and How More Shabby Than Chic began, quilting and handmade crafts.

I started a new job as a technology teacher and was suddenly informed I would also be teaching textiles.Minor problem: I hadn’t touched a sewing machine since… well, since my mum’s ancient human-powered Singer from the 1930s, the one she inherited from my grandmother. Most of my “experience” involved watching her turn fabric into magic. My favourite creation was a navy dress with a white collar that was supposed to be a nurse’s outfit, but it came out too nice and got promoted to “best.” Clearly, I have always loved a bit of dress-up when there is an excuse. (Do not worry, I get sidetracked a lot. It’s part of the charm.)

Anyway, hello! I’m Rhiannon. Forty-five, single, no kids but three cats, brilliant friends and family, and a career I have genuinely enjoyed. And now… a textiles teacher who needed to remember which end of the sewing machine was which.

So, I did what any sensible woman would do: I signed up for a course. I signed me and my mum up, because if I was going down this path, she was coming with me. She had recently retired and needed to have her time filled.We joined a “Get to Know Your Sewing Machine” workshop run by the Maker on the Move. Neither Louise nor I knew this was the beginning of an exceptionally long, and very lovely, story.

One course turned into many. Over the next few years, if there was a workshop, my name was on the list. Somewhere along the way, I stopped sewing because I had to… and started sewing because I genuinely loved it.

My new passion was… well, expensive. And I did not even own a sewing machine. Luckily, my line manager took pity on me and let me borrow one from the storeroom. After a few months it became clear that, for once, this was not just a phase, so I decided it was time to buy my own.

My machine, she like a work horse!

I didn’t know much about sewing machines, but I did know I wanted a Janome. Of course I did, only the most expensive brand on the shelf. That is me all over: champagne taste, beer money. Sew, I bought the cheapest Janome I could find and carried on sewing.

Except… I didn’t. The machine had a side-loading bobbin and was so fiddly and manual that I lost interest fast. Every time I tried to use it, it fought back. Hard. Turns out “buy cheap, buy twice” is a cliché for a reason.

To cut a boring story short, my parents rescued me (this happens a lot, even now) and bought me a new machine, a proper one this time. The Janome 5030 from John Lewis. And now, my mum and I even have matching machines. Twinsies, but make it crafty. Although we work very differently, I was like a hurricane knocking out quilt after quilt and my mother was still on her first. The one in the photo. Don’t tell her but she proves the tortoise wins, she may take years to make a baby quilt, but the stitching is impeccable.

As my confidence grew, so did the chaos, fabric piles everywhere, thread in places thread shouldn’t be, and a growing obsession with patterns, colours, and the joy of making something that didn’t exist an hour ago. Any quilter will tell you that sewing and buying fabrics are two vastly different hobbies. I started experimenting with quilts, cushions, little gifts, bits for friends, and eventually anything someone dared to ask me to try. Somewhere between the unpicking, the not so accidental swearing, and the “why is the bobbin doing that?” moments, I realised I had found my style. Not perfect, not polished… but warm, personal, and full of character. Work a blind man would love to see or More shabby than chic, and proud of it.

The Frozen quilt

Skills and fabric were not the only things taking shape during this time. I had not long left an abusive marriage and was learning how to stand on my own two feet again, but this time properly, confidently, and without apologising for taking up space. If I wasn’t at work, I was at home sewing. It became my escape, my therapy, and my way of rebuilding a life that felt like mine.

I sewed and sewed and sewed. Honestly, I made so many things in those early years that I couldn’t even list them now if you paid me. Quilts, cushions, gifts for people I love, projects for the sake of keeping my hands busy… half of them I barely remember finishing. But every stitch did something important. Every project reminded me I was capable. Every completed piece felt like a small win, a quiet little “you’re still here, keep going.”

Crafting did not just bring me skills. It brought me strength, purpose, and a sense of identity when everything else felt messy. It started to stitch together the version of me who now stands behind More Shabby Than Chic.

My friends and family kept telling me that I could sell my work, I did try. The moment someone was paying the pressure started to build, deadlines, preferences, demands. All things that started to take away my enjoyment of the task. There were a few paid tasks that I did get enjoyment from. One lady asked me to create a quilt with some panels her father-in-law had created. They were A4 and beautiful hand painted scenes from the film Frozen. This was a great honour; it was nice knowing that she trusted me with such treasured work. The finished piece was large. I matched it with a soft white fabric and framed the whole piece with a glittery blue border. I will have to spend some time looking for a photo. This project also showed me that this is not a job that pays well. It is an enjoyable job; I love nothing more than crafting.

And in the end, it was that mix of passion, healing, sheer creativity, and, if I am honest, the anxiety of putting my real name on my own work that has shaped the heart of More Shabby Than Chic.

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