Both of these pouches were made from bits and pieces I picked up on a campervan trip. When I’m out in my van, I love stopping at op-shops to hunt for little treasures.

The patchwork began life as a table runner. The points didn’t meet, the quilting was awkwardly forced in places and caught in others—clearly a beginner’s piece. Still, I loved the fabrics. I unpicked it, and to my delight it came apart without damage.

I re-pieced it by hand. Fortunately, the original cutting was accurate, so the points matched neatly. I then layered the top with good-quality cotton batting, slow-stitched it, and added the backing with a pillowcase method before turning it through.

The fabric was folded into a pouch shape, the sides ladder-stitched closed, and then I had fun playing with button placement and decorative stitching. The loop was worked in detached buttonhole stitch over multiple strands of thread.

I often wonder about the original maker of the table runner—how their work ended up for $1 in an op-shop. They’ll never know what became of their piece, but I feel I’ve added to its story. In a way, we’ve made a quiet, unexpected connection.

The second pouch was pieced together from a napkin, a tatted doily, and a vintage embroidered doily—all found in op-shops. The ribbons came from a candle my daughter received last Christmas. There’s something magical about transforming these discarded objects into something new, giving them a second life after being rejected by their previous owners.

The slow, physical act of remaking and stitching calms and grounds me. It keeps me anchored in the present moment, instead of letting my mind wander off on its usual monkey-mind journey.