De Borduurschool: Selina Ben

Selina Ben opens the door of her apartment on IJburg wearing a dark green sweater with a curious pattern on the front. From a distance, it looks like a web of blue-green streams flowing through an off-white landscape. It turns out to be made of a single patch of vintage linen, cut into pieces, stitched onto the sweater and embroidered with dark green thread. This is Ainu embroidery, an age-old technique used by the indigenous people in Japan. Selina smiles. “I used it to cover an unwanted brand logo.”

This is characteristic of Selina’s approach to embroidery: the use of ancient techniques, particularly from East Asia, to repair and beautify existing clothes. For her, this is a way to tune into history and restore the connection between people and garments – a connection that is often lost in the fast-paced fashion industry. Selina used to work as a textile developer, but has moved on to become a full-time textile artist and workshop teacher in Ainu and Sashiko embroidery, as well as visible mending. She has her own platform, called Unwritten Stitch.

Just a few weeks before the interview she was in China, she says, to study the embroidery of the Miao culture.

That sounds wonderful. What did you do there?

“I visited the Miao people in the southwest of the country. I found out about their embroidery a few years ago, through the Crafts Council, actually. I did not know about their embroidery culture, even though I am originally from China. I studied their textiles intensely over the past years but I had never been to the region. I could finally talk to people and see with my own eyes how they live and work.”

“In terms of technique, Miao embroidery is very different from the other things I do. The Miao mostly use silk thread instead of cotton. Their embroidery contains many symbolic motifs, and they use a wide variety of intricate stitches, including the most complex form of cross stitch. I’m still learning how it works and trying to grasp the meanings of the technique. This is what drives me forward as an embroiderer: learning about the meanings of patterns, the stories behind them, and trying new techniques.”

What other techniques do you practice and how do they work? 

“So, the technique I used on my sweater is called Ainu embroidery. This technique was mostly used for costumes worn during festivals and rituals. This type is called Kaparamip in Ainu language, which means cutting and applying thin cloth. It’s a kind of reverse appliqué combined with embroidery. You cut a piece of fabric in pieces, slightly fold in the sides, and stitch the pieces onto a background of a different colour. By leaving spaces in-between the pieces, a pattern is created. On top of that, you can add embroidery, often couching or chain stitch. The patterns don’t have specific meanings, though some of them look like animals or clouds. The fabric pieces usually have pointy corners, called Kirau in Ainu language, which are said to protect the wearer against evil spirits.”

“Another technique is Sashiko. This involves just one stitch: a running stitch, usually done with white cotton thread on indigo coloured fabric. By sewing in different directions, geometric patterns are created. This technique was originally used to make cloth thicker and stronger, because fabrics were very expensive in Japan at a time when everything was handwoven. Sashiko was typical winter work for farm women in Northern Japan. It is said that’s why sashiko stitches on indigo cloth tend to look like white snow on dark ground.”

How did you find out about these techniques? 

“I was working as a textile developer at a stroller company. A colleague had done a Sashiko workshop and mentioned it to me. I looked up the technique and thought: wow, that looks just like what my grandma used to make when I was younger!”

“I was born in Northern China. I spent most of my childhood with my grandma. She was always working with her hands. If she was not working the land, she was making clothes for the whole family, or patching old clothes together to make cleaning cloths. She taught me some simple stitches, like the running stitch. Sashiko reminds me of her.”

Did you continue to do needlework when you grew older?

“I was always very crafty, but my study became really heavy after middle school so I stopped crafting. I studied English linguistics in China, but after working for a while I found out it wasn’t for me. I wanted to apply for fashion design but I couldn’t, because I did not have a design portfolio. I came to the Netherlands to study fashion technology. Fashion technology is more focused on the technological side of design: development processes, the different steps in the supply chain. I became a product developer. My first job was at an outerwear company. Then I went on to strollers.”

There is a continuity.

“Yes. I have always been interested in how things are made, and what is technically possible.”

Finally, you became a full-time mender and embroiderer. How did that happen?

“After finding out about Sashiko, I did it a lot and also developed my own patterns. I started posting them on Instagram. Through social media, I got in touch with many people who embroidered and mended their clothing. This was during Covid. I was in-between jobs, I was in need of clothes but I didn’t feel like going shopping, and I was becoming more aware of the environmental problems in the fashion industry. So I began to repair my clothes, and I got more and more involved in the mending community. That’s also how I came across other techniques, like Ainu.”

“Mending and embroidering really strengthen one’s connection to a garment. I believe that if you mend your own clothes, or stitch something onto them, you won’t throw them away so easily. You start to understand and appreciate the work that goes into making clothes. It is a way to cherish a garment while exploring your identity and creativity – in a useful way. That’s something I like about crafts: they result in something that has a use, something you can carry around.”

“Through mending and embroidery, a garment becomes infused with memories, of the times and places where you worked, the movies you watched while stitching. A garment can become like a personal armour. It used to be like that as well in the past, you know. People put their heart and soul into their embroidery. They believed it would bring protection.”

How do you research these histories?

“By reading books, going to museums, where I go to study pieces from up close, and doing researching at museum depots and on samples I collected. I would always recommend looking at the back side of the work. It teaches you so much about a piece, and about the person who made it. Are there lots of knots in the back, or is everything perfectly finished?”

“I also try to figure out if it’s still possible to work those old techniques with our current knowledge and materials. I try to find the same materials that were used in the past to recreate them. I look at the result and ask myself: what are the differences, and what could be done differently nowadays?”

What is your aim?

“I want to share my learning experiences in these ancient techniques, and the histories behind them, to pass on respect for the tradition and honour the makers before me. At the same time, I want show how these historical techniques can be used in the present, and make them more accessible. This is also what I try to do in my workshops. I hope people will keep appreciating these techniques and apply them in their own projects. Doing so can really expand your horizon.”

“I also want to share the benefits of visible mending. It can reduce our envrionmental impact, and stitching by hand has helped me to slow down and regain energy over the past years. I hope more people can enjoy hand stitching as a form of meditation, and a way to express their creativity.”