Post written by Lila Becker, Allen Centennial Garden Programs and Education Intern
I first started embroidery during the pandemic, when the days often blurred together. I craved something slow, tactile, and grounding to contrast my life full of technology and Zoom calls. Sitting by the window in my bedroom, I found solace in the repetition of thread weaving through fabric. When I joined Allen Centennial Garden as a Programs Intern this summer, my mind kept returning to that feeling of focus and the strength of community within the crafting world. I wondered if this was an experience I could not only bring to the Garden, but also incorporate the Garden into.
The idea for Embroider with Garden Colors took shape after a conversation with Ryan, our Programs and Events Lead, about his extensive work with plant-based dyes. I also completed my own reading on natural dyes and found Jenny Dean’s Wild Color: The Complete Guide to Making and Using Natural Dyes fascinating. She explains the history behind traditional dyeing. It was once common practice to use the pigments from flowers, leaves, roots, and bark to create color for clothes and other household items. I wanted the workshop to revive a small part of this important tradition in order to connect embroidery to the larger living landscape around us.
At Allen Centennial Garden, dye plants hold a special place within the landscape of the Garden. Three years ago, a dye garden was installed next to the historic house and has been flourishing since then. One of the dye plants, Madder, takes three growing seasons to reach maturity and create optimal pigments so it was very exciting to make some of the first dye vats with this plant.
To prepare for the workshop, I ordered undyed floss, hoops, and other supplies with funding from the Friends of Allen Centennial Garden. The Badger Volunteers helped to wind hundreds of skeins into smaller bundles, ready for dyeing. I then began to experiment with the dye plants and how they behaved on different fibers. Wool and linen created more vibrant colors, but the cotton was easiest to work with later on. I found that Weld and Pincushion proved to be heat sensitive and needed no more than an hour on direct heat before steeping overnight. Meanwhile, Madder and Cherrywood did best with a long, slow simmer.
Dyeing days were some of my favorites. It felt almost meditative standing over a five-gallon pot of rust-orange Marigold with the air carrying the steam and the fragrance of earth. Dyeing is slow work and can’t be rushed. The threads need a full day in a mordant bath which strengthens the proteins in the fibers, and then another day to absorb the natural dyes. Seeing the threads take on new colors felt like my vision was becoming reality.
With most of my threads ready, I shifted focus to the embroidery portion of the workshop. I curated five beginner-friendly stitches that could be combined to create a garden-inspired design. I even prepared enlarged stitch tutorials and sample projects for attendees to reference. In the end, I taught each stitch directly by demonstration. The preparation process was valuable as it forced me to think about how to present the stitches in a user-friendly way and for a variety of levels.
Trial runs at Grandparents University and with the families of interns helped refine the workshop. It was helpful to hear from both experienced and beginner embroiderers about the pace and teaching style of the workshop. For example, the other interns offered guidance on how to rearrange the order the stitches were taught to foster a more positive experience when learning a new skill. Throughout these trials, I noticed that embroidery invites conversation: a grandparent sharing their knowledge of embroidery and sewing with a grandchild, two men learning they have a lot in common, people sharing their contact information to keep in touch afterwards. The workshop was more than just learning a craft, it was about creating space for people to slow down and connect.
The Garden setting made these connections even stronger. People looked up from their hoops to spot a Coreopsis flower or see the Cherry tree at the back of the Garden, making the connection between what they saw and what they were creating. In a world where most materials arrive already made, creating something that has been hand prepared with locally sourced materials feels different. It becomes a shared act and not just a product.
On August 2nd, Embroider with Garden Colors officially launched. We stitched in the open air, surrounded by the plants that had given our threads their colors. The soft scrape of needles through the fabric mixed with the hum of the garden in the summer. As attendees packed up their hoops, several asked when the embroidery workshop would be offered again.
I’m happy to say that the Garden plans to continue offering embroidery workshops throughout the season. I hope to see more people here learning, slowing down, and enjoying the Garden. Perhaps we’ll see you during our Wisconsin Welcome event 🙂