SASHIKO EMBROIDERY ON A PLANE, STITCHING ASANOHA SAMPLER
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I stitched this somewhere over the Atlantic, flying back to the US from the UK. Eight hours. I'd love to tell you it was a considered decision about slow craft and mindful travel. It wasn't. I just didn't want to sit still for eight hours doing nothing, and sashiko is the only thing I own that fits in a pouch.
WHY SASHIKO IS THE PERFECT TRAVAL PROJECT
Almost everything I sew needs a machine, a table, and about four metres of space I don't have on a plane. Sashiko needs a needle, thread, and fabric.
The real reason it works, though, is that there's no prep. This is a Daruma sashiko sampler — 34cm square, blue 100% cotton, and the asanoha grid comes printed on the fabric. You don't rule it, you don't mark it, you don't measure anything. You open the packet and stitch.
That's the whole thing. Most handwork still needs something before you can start — a hoop, good light, both hands free, a flat surface to lay it out. A pre-printed sashiko sampler needs none of it. You can pick it up when the drinks trolley has gone past and put it down when it comes back, and nothing is ruined either way.
WHAT'S IN THE POUCH
Daruma sashiko sampler — 34cm × 34cm, blue cotton, asanoha grid pre-printed
Sashiko thread — the packaging is entirely in Japanese and refuses to translate, so I genuinely could not tell you the weight. It works. I bought more.
Sashiko needles — these matter. They're much longer than a standard hand-sewing needle, because you don't work one stitch at a time. You load several stitches onto the needle at once and pull the thread through in one go. A regular needle will not do this.
2cm scissors — tiny. Check your airline before you fly; the rules vary by country, and I'd rather not hand over a good pair at security.
No thimble. Not because you shouldn't use one, but because I don't. The proper sashiko thimble isn't like a regular one anyway — it's a ring you wear with a small flat disc attached, and you push against the disc with your palm rather than your fingertip.
That's the lot. It weighs nothing and lives in the seat pocket.
WHAT I GOT DONE
A start. Not much of one.
I'm slow at sashiko, and it's deliberate: I want the back to look exactly the same as the front. That means every stitch has to be even on both sides, every turn at the end of a row has to be right, and no thread can be dragged across the back to get somewhere quicker. It doubles the time. Nobody will ever see the back of this panel. I'll know.
So eight hours over the Atlantic got me part of the way through an asanoha grid, and I was fine with that. It's not a race, and the whole point is that it gave me something to do with my hands.
DOING IT AGAIN
I've stitched a few of these now, and I still have some sampler panels I bought in Japan when I was learning to make a kimono waiting to be started.
They'll all get done on planes or sometimes just sitting in front of the TV in the evening.