Offbeatquilts

I went to quilt retreat this weekend, and for me, that’s kind of a big deal.

The Portland Modern Quilt Guild has been doing this annual retreat for years, and somehow I’d never gone. Childcare, anxiety, exhaustion, ego, logistics… there were always reasons. This year I bought the ticket and made myself go.

Of course, in the days leading up to it, anxiety showed up to try to steer the ship: Just stay home and sleep all weekend. You’re so tired. Most of those people don’t even like you. Why drive all that way just to sit with people who don’t enjoy your company?

My friend Valerie nudged me not to bail. She was right, and I’m grateful for the particular kind of friendship she offers—the kind that gets through my bu****it and actually gets me to do the thing.

And holy s**t. I had an incredible weekend.

The whole retreat felt calm, welcoming, and deeply caring. I’d heard people rave about the meals for years and always thought, sounds lovely, but probably not for me. I have food allergies, and eating safely away from home can be exhausting. But the staff collected dietary requests, told me gluten-free was no problem, and then actually made it no problem. At every meal, they brought me a little dish with my name on it, a GF version of what everyone else was eating—including really damn good desserts. Everything labeled. Everything handled by people who clearly knew what they were doing. Every time I saw that little GF label, my shoulders dropped. I love safety.

The sewing was wonderful. The company was on another level. Kind, caring, hilarious, deeply intelligent people who understood what I was saying without me having to explain everything twice. That feeling is incredibly rare in my daily life.

Coffee with homemade vanilla creamer. Cold Diet Cokes. Sewing until midnight. Audiobooks. Morning walks with a barn cat. “I love you.” Fat quarter swapping. Singing while sewing. So much laughter. A phenomenal sew-and-tell.

I came home more renewed than I think I’ve ever felt after a trip.

I almost let anxiety talk me out of this one. I am so effing glad I went.

Thank you, Portland Modern Quilt Guild. Thank you, Valerie, for the nudge. Thank you Ephanie for the kindness❤️

Tuesday was really damn nice. Chris Marchini (he/him)

I’m so happy for our friend Chris, opening this beautiful quilt shop in Portland, just off Foster. I wanted to make him a housewarming gift to celebrate, and commemorate, the grand opening.

Our little group of quilters weathered the pandemic together. We met online, cracked jokes about making masks, and wondered whether our fabric stashes were big enough to get us through lockdown. Somehow, through all of that weirdness, we became friends.

So I designed an FPP pattern inspired by Chris’s beautiful rainbow window and front doors. There weren’t any instructions. The wonkiness hadn’t been fully flushed out. And, honestly, that made it even better.

Our friends sewed the blocks anyway. They dug through their stashes, picked out their best fabrics, and sent them to me so quickly. I put all those little pieces our friends sewed together into a mini quilt for Chris.

Rachel happened to be visiting Portland that day. Jeanne was able to meet up, too. We wrote the names of everyone who made a block on the back of the quilt, like signing a yearbook—a little record of all the people who helped make this thing what it is.

And then we handed it to him.

The happiness on Chris’s face was priceless.

There are some friendships that are hard to explain because saying “I’m grateful for you” feels far too small. These are the people who laughed with me through a bizarre and difficult time, made things when we couldn’t be together, and somehow turned scraps of fabric into a community that still stands today, our Rotary Blade Runners.

To say I’m grateful for these beautiful humans falls very, very short.

Congratulations, Chris. Here’s to this beautiful new chapter—and to all the weird, wonky, colorful things we’ll make together. ❤️

I rarely want to buy new fabrics, but Sewlarium had such an enticing selection I couldn't resist! Neon apples, eye candy fat quarters, and fever dream mushroom prints.
I just had to.

Ready to get into some sweet curves?

Join me at Sewcial Studies for Intro to Quilt Curves — where we’ll learn to sew smooth, beautiful curves without pins, stress, or perfectionism.

Sunday, Oct. 4 • 12:30–4:30
$65 • Only 8 spots — 4 already taken!

Come learn the tricks, make some curves, and leave with a new quilting skill in your toolbox.

Sewcial Studies

Our Aunt Jamie visited this week, and I am feeling so damn lucky.

The kids were beqming with happiness every time they were with her.

Johnny and Seth had a little jam session—singing and playing music together so sweetly that I couldn't even pick up my phone to capturethe moment. I just sat there and let the moment belong to us. Tiger and aunt Jamie danced together, Johnny sang treehugger with her whole heart.

When I hugged Jamie goodbye at the airport I missed her before she was even gone.

I pulled my van over and cried.

There is a grief I carry about the village I didn’t build for my children.

When I was young, I was so certain I could do everything myself. I followed a man here instead of going home to my family in Santa Cruz. I blew things up. I was a brat. I started over. I believed my hard work could outrun every consequence.

I didn’t think about disability.
I didn’t think about aging.
I didn’t think about what happens when the person holding everything together finally gets tired.

I was wrong.

And I own that.

I’m turning 50 next year, and I can feel my limits in a way I couldn’t when I was younger.

Tonight I am grieving something I never had: family close enough to show up on an ordinary Tuesday. Someone who can walk through the door and say, “I’ve got them. Go rest.”

I can see clearly the different choices i could have made.

But I am trying to learn that regret doesn’t have to become punishment.

Tonight I get to be tired.
Tonight I get to cry for the village I wish my children had.

Tomorrow I’ll get up and listen to every detail of their weekend with Dad.

And I’ll keep building what I can.

Even if I think I coukd have built it differently. Here is where we are now and it's not terrible.

Going for a velvet painting color palette. Pattern by Ingrid Alteneder

I'm teaching an intro to fpp class next month and wanted to make some enticing fpp samples. This one has been on my to make list for a while.

Have you seen an fpp pattern lately that inspires or is on your to make list? Let me know in the comments please.

Your weird little fabric scraps have been waiting for this.

What happens when you combine quilting, zippers, vintage fabric, Pendleton scraps, old quilts, buttons, patches, and a healthy disregard for making everything match perfectly?

A really damn good zipper pouch.

I’m teaching my Quilted Zipper Pouch class this Sunday, September 6th at , and there are only 3 spots left!

This is not your standard “here is a pattern, now make a pouch” class.

We’re going to play with scrap fabric, sustainable materials, quilting, hand stitching, color, texture, zippers, and embellishment to make a boxy pouch that feels completely like yours.

I’ll be bringing a ridiculous assortment of Pendleton Woolen Mills scraps, old quilt pieces, fabric odds and ends, quilting supplies, batting, linings and zippers for you to dig through.

You should bring your own favorite fabrics, too — even if it's just a tiny scrap.

That weird button you've been saving for 7 years?

Bring it.

The tiny piece of vintage fabric you refuse to throw away?

Bring it.

An old shirt with a great print?

BRING IT.

We'll figure out what it wants to become.

Sunday, September 6
12–4 PM

3 spots remaining

Come make something weird, useful, beautiful, and entirely your own.

Sign up through Sewcial Studies — I’d love to sew with you!



https://www.sewcialstudies.com/module/class/651325/qzp101-quilted-zipper-pouch

Beautiful Scraps + Boxy Pouches = Quilty Love ❤️
I finally made my samples for my Quilted Boxy Pouch workshop and I am OBSESSED with how weird, colorful, scrappy and completely individual these turned out.

This is not your standard “learn to make a zipper pouch” class. We’re going to play with texture, color, vintage fabrics, new fabrics, quilting scraps and beautiful reclaimed materials to create a pouch that looks like you made it, because you did.

And I have a particularly good pile of materials for this one. I recently raided the scrap bins at the Pendleton Woolen Mills outlet, so I’ll be bringing a whole collection of leftover woven Pendleton wool pieces for you to incorporate into your pouch. You’ll also have access to vintage scraps, new fabric scraps, batting, lining and all the materials needed to leave class with a finished boxy pouch.

I’ll teach you my own easy-to-modify boxy pouch construction technique, along with the sustainable quilting approach I use to combine materials that might not traditionally “go together” — and somehow make them work beautifully together.
Think of it as part sewing class, part material playground, part permission to make a glorious little fabric Frankenstein.

And these make REALLY good gifts for the upcoming holidays. Handmade, useful, one-of-a-kind and a great way to use up beautiful bits that deserve another life.

Sunday, September 6
12–4 PM
Sewcial Studies
$65, all materials included

There are at least 3 spots still available, and I would absolutely love to spend a Sunday afternoon making weird little pouches with you.

Come play with fabric. Come use the good scraps. Come make something that nobody else could have made.

Sign up through Sewcial Studies!

This comfort quilt is done and off to my cousin. I meant to send it many months ago.

Living far away from family I love is challenging. I want to fight the disconnect of time and space, but also not burden anyone with my want for connection.

This comfort quilt pattern is my own. For sale on my website and in printed form at Sewcial Studies in Milwaukie.

Using all my favorite 90s vintage fabrics, I can only give it away to a loved one. Not for sale