Our Story

Cross stitch wasn’t supposed to change our lives. For six years it was simply a quiet passion — something comforting, creative, and ours. We never imagined it would grow into a small business, or that it would pull us into a community we didn’t even know we were missing. But every story has a beginning, and ours starts in March 2020.

Lockdown had settled over everything like a heavy fog. Geri had just come home from food shopping, and I was buried in Factorio — building imaginary factories while the real world stood still. As she unpacked her bags from Sainsbury’s, a small magazine caught my eye: Disney Cross Stitch. I picked it up, flicked through a few pages, set it down, grabbed a beer, and returned to my digital conveyor belts.

Hours passed. When I finally looked up, Geri was curled peacefully on the sofa, threading a needle through fabric with the kind of focus that makes the rest of the world fade away. Curiosity tugged at me. Ten minutes later, I was sitting beside her, asking questions. One hour later, I had a new obsession.

That first magazine — issue one — came with everything: aida fabric, a needle, four skeins of thread, and templates. All for £1.99. Anyone who stitches knows that’s a steal. We bought five more copies because I kept making mistakes, but I didn’t care. I stitched Tigger seven times, each one a little better than the last. I subscribed to the magazine for six months. By the end of lockdown’s early days, I’d stitched Tigger, Baloo, and Dumbo. It was a strange time, but cross stitch gave it colour.

Then Geri handed me a Pokémon Cross Stitch book — and suddenly my favourite hobby collided with my favourite universe. I stitched Pokémon every day, framed them, and gifted them to friends and family. They kept telling me to sell them. I laughed it off. Who would buy these?

But the comments kept coming. So I tried. I opened an Etsy store. It flopped. First attempt, first failure.

And then everything shifted.

I was invited to help at a Pokémon event in Antrim Library. I brought a few frames, not expecting anything — just curious. The event was wonderful. I didn’t sell a single frame, but people stopped, looked, smiled, and told me how much they loved the designs. I met people I still talk to today. They invited me back the next month… and the next… and the next.

Then one day, someone asked me to make a Leafeon.

A commission. A real request. Someone wanted my work.

I couldn’t believe it.

I stitched the Leafeon. I sold the Leafeon. Then came Mewtwo. Then Mew. Then Gengar. Suddenly, people weren’t just admiring the frames — they wanted them. Commissions rolled in. A waiting list formed. Something small and personal was becoming something bigger.

Thankfully, by then Geri had jumped in with both feet. Cross stitch is a patient craft, and two sets of hands made all the difference.

From there, we were invited to the pokemart.ni popup — a buzzing venue with over 1,000 visitors. We expanded our range: handcrafted fridge magnets, keyrings, coasters, pens, and eventually Pokémon TCG products. Then came branding, business cards, a card machine — all the little things that make a hobby feel like a business.

And it grew. We were invited to more shows, including Belfastcollects events, Maiden City Cardshow in Derry — an unforgettable day and we now regularly attend Antrim Card Club thanks to Danny Taggart.

Today, we’re proud to run a small, thriving business. We attend shows a couple of times each month, meet incredible people, and share the craft that started on a quiet lockdown evening with a magazine from Sainsbury’s.

If our story resonates with you, or if you’d like to see our work in person, send us a message — and check our events page to see where we’ll be next.