
You Could Get This Printed in an Hour. Here's Why You Don't.
A print of your photo takes a machine four minutes. This takes me hours by hand. The hours are the whole point.
Stories, tips, and behind-the-hoop notes on custom hand embroidery — from choosing the right photo to caring for your finished keepsake.

A print of your photo takes a machine four minutes. This takes me hours by hand. The hours are the whole point.

Most hand embroidery lives on white or cream. Mine almost never does — and that one choice is the biggest reason my work looks the way it does.

It's black and white. It's fuzzy. Half of it looks like weather radar. And you'd run back into a burning building for it.

You're not really framing the picture of the dog-cat-horse thing. You're framing the four-year-old who gripped the marker in a fist and handed it over like a signed treaty.

People think a pet portrait is about getting the face right. It's not. It's the fur — the cowlick, the one floppy ear, the sock on just the back-left foot. That's where the hours go.

Sew Bitchin Stitchin raises an eyebrow. Then you see what it's actually for, and the eyebrow comes right back down. The attitude is in the name — the tenderness is in the thread.

You can't keep all of it — the fridge has limits, the recycling bin does not. But there's usually one drawing you'd keep forever if you could. That's the one we stitch.

Your custom embroidered pet portrait is only ever as good as the photo you hand over. Here's how to pick the one that's almost definitely already in your camera roll.