So why the symbiosis? I think it has something to do with the excitement of appropriating a tech-heavy craft for creative new endeavors. Cory Doctorow sums up this aspect of steampunk pretty neatly in his intro to Make magazine's Lost Knowledge issue:

For me, the biggest appeal of steampunk is that it exalts the machine and disparages the mechanization of human creativity (the motto of the excellent and free SteamPunk Magazine is "Love the Machine, Hate the Factory"). It celebrates the elaborate inventions of the scientifically managed enterprise, but imagines those machines coming from individuals who are their own masters. Steampunk doesn't rail against efficiency -- but it never puts efficiency ahead of self-determination. If you're going to raise your workbench to spare your back, that's your decision, not something imposed on you from the top down.

(That SteamPunk Magazine motto is available on a nifty patch which can be obtained right here if you desire. I have one.)

Too often, I've heard machine embroidery called soulless. Knock it all you want for its lack of accessibility. (Whoever invents an embroidery machine that's comparable in price to, say, a video game system or a decent beginner-level guitar is going to be very rich. Sewing machine companies, don't say I didn't warn you.) And it's certainly a different experience than making something with your hands, needles, and string. But steampunk says spirit and technology are not mutually exclusive. Anything but. The more time I spend with machine embroidery, the more I find that to be true.

Machine embroidery is ripe to be punked. And not just because until recently, it's been ruled by the iron fist of a teddy bear wearing a floral sundress. "Taking back the machine" is really the story of machine embroidery as a crafty hobby -- "mainstream" or otherwise. When I read Eileen Roche's column in the January/February '09 issue of Designs in Machine Embroidery, something about it sounded so familiar:

In the beginning of machine embroidery for home embroiderers -- little was known about placement, stabilizer, and hooping. Home embroiderers were at the mercy of the local sewing machine dealer as there was no education, magazines or books on the subject.

This is a hobby that grew virally -- even before the advent of the internet. An avid sewer was sold an embroidery machine by their local dealer. Then, she began showing up in the store more often than normal seeking help for understanding the embroidery process. Dealers shared what they knew -- which was not much more than their customer -- and monthly "club" meetings grew out of customers' requests. Some poor teacher (I was one of them), was recruited to host club meetings. Just because we (I) were leading the club meeting didn't mean we know much more than the students. I know what I lacked in knowledge, I made up for in passion for this hobby.

I may have led the meeting but the students were really the instructors. The show and tell portion of the club meetings was hands-down the most informational portion of the class. Everyone who had something to show, had a tale to tell of stabilizer, tension and thread woes. That's how we learned this great hobby -- from one another. Of course the commercial embroidery industry was established many years before but no one in that arena acknowledged the hungry home embroiderers. In fact, they were annoyed that they existed. A great opportunity for commercial experts was missed when they chose not to share their knowledge and reap the profits from it.

Lucky for me, that void turned into a wonderful career. I turned my hobby into a business that inspires thousands of embroiderers, encourages new ideas and techniques and connects me with fellow embroiderers. How lucky can one person get?

People with a passion for their craft, taking industrial technology into their own hands. I dig that, no matter what they're stitching.

Posted by Karline