That day, I almost didn't bring the flowers at all.
It was September 2024, and I was setting up at a craft show as a sewing pattern designer. It wasn't a big show — the crowd was small, and my table was tiny. There was no room to display the flowers I'd made, so I just set them down on the floor in front of my table. It wasn't a display. I just put them there.
And then customers reached down and picked them up.
I was a little surprised. How did they even find them there?
By the end of the day, the basket was almost empty. All but one flower had found a new home.
Twenty Years of Fabric and Patterns
I've spent twenty years as a sewing pattern designer. I've published five books with American publishers, co-authored five more, and had my work featured in craft magazines across the US, UK, and Canada. It's been a life built around fabric, thread, and the quiet satisfaction of a pattern that works.
Along the way, I also designed corsage patterns. Looking back, flowers had been part of my work for a long time. I just hadn't noticed yet.
A Simple Idea, and an Old Habit
It started with a simple question.
I'd been making corsage patterns for years — so what if I added wire and shaped them into flowers? Could I make them and sell them? In the summer of 2024, I pulled out some wool felt I had at home and decided to give it a try. Just casually. Just to see.
And then my designer's brain took over.
That habit — the one where I think "oh, this looks fun!" and then somehow end up completely consumed by it — kicked in without warning. And of course, the first flower I decided to make was a peony. One of the hardest ones.
It didn't come out right. So I reworked the pattern. Made it again. Reworked it again. I discovered that the tiniest change in the curve of a petal, the slightest difference in how it was shaped, completely changed the expression of the flower. I became obsessed with finding the right order to layer each petal for the most natural form.
Before I knew it, my desk was covered in failed peonies.
Wait — I was supposed to be keeping this casual!
Looking at that pile of flowers, I felt something familiar. This process — the obsessing, the reworking, the making and remaking — was exactly how I'd spent the last twenty years working on sewing patterns. Maybe that's why I fell so hard for it.
Even now, when I see a beautiful flower, my first thought is: how would I build the pattern for that? The moment that question appears, I'm already gone.
For what it's worth — I'm still making new peony patterns.
Why I Love Wool Felt Flowers
I've always loved flowers, but I could never quite bring myself to buy them. There was always that guilty feeling when it came time to throw them away. And artificial flowers never felt like a real answer either.
So I hope these flowers can be a small comfort to someone who feels the same way. These blooms that I've poured so much of myself into — I hope they sit in your space and stay warm there, for a long time to come.
