Thursday, September 14, 2017

My Dear Dumb Dead Blog

Hi errybody!

I apologize to all two of my readers that this blog is dead. I'm going to be in the process of making it more of a shopping page than a blog. Probably. If I can coerce my husband to help me.

Meanwhile, please visit me and my stitchers on Facebook and Instagram. That's where most of the action happens. And usually everything we post is available for sale or to be made into a custom order.

And look for the Instagram handles: the Cotton Floozy and socially_awkward_stitcher (Steph's account. Is rad. Please follow.)

Thanks and double thanks! and hell, triple thanks!


Monday, May 4, 2015

This blog post is about my updated Etsy. First you'll be shocked, then you'll be inspired!

Things have been quite exciting lately over here at Floozy Headquarters. Hence the click bait in my post title. Hahaha! Please please please check out all of the excitement over at my Etsy store. You'll never look at effing cute embroideries the same way again! (Okay, I'll stop now.)

My subversive Cotton Floozy stitching business has really taken off, to the point where I am no longer able to single-handedly keep up with the demand. So, much like my waistline after thrice visiting the dessert bar at Chuck-A-Rama, I have expanded. I now have a bevy of beautiful stitchers working with me -- The Happy Valley Crafters. I have stitched with the Happy Valley Crafters since the formation of our Stitch and Bitch group (of the same name) a few years ago, founded by cross-stitcher extraordinaire Yvette Beaudoin (Dame Toadstool.) Just recently the Happy Valley Crafters have welcomed into their midst the hilarious stitcher Stephanie Sorensen aka The Socially Awkward Stitcher and her mother, Phyllis Sorensen, aka The Vintage Stitcher.


The Socially Awkward Stitcher is an elusive creature of mystery and can only be coaxed out of her natural habitat by The Cotton Floozy. 

The Socially Awkward Stitcher specializes in snarky embroideries that are snarky and full of snark. 

Since she's new to the shop, she has a reasonable turn around time for custom orders. My queue is loooooooong, so it takes me six weeks, whereas the SAS is about three weeks. Message me on my Etsy page if you are interested in a custom order stitched by this very talented Happy Valley Crafter.

The Socially Awkward Stitcher has skillz, yo.

The Vintage Stitcher knows her way around a needle and a hoop.

The Vintage Stitcher looking chill.

She specializes in ALL THE CRAFTZ and prefers to use vintage materials for her stitcheries.

How true is this?!

And lastly, there is Yvette Beaudoin (Dame Toadstool) who made all of this magic happen in the first place. She created the first Happy Valley Crafters' Stitch and Bitch group a few years ago.  That was the first time I had felt inspired to stitch since I was a kid. And now I can't even stand to go a day without stitching. Stitching is a slippery slope, my friends.

Yvette specializes in cross-stitch and all things geek. She is a magnificent advisor to everything I do. You can meet her if you attend my upcoming Craft Lake City workshop. (Which sold out, sorry. But we're planning on another one later this year.)

She has been extensively traveling these last few months, so her cross-stitch pieces are not available yet, but stay tuned!

The Flooze and The Socially Awkward Stitcher
at Craft Sabbath

Somebody recently asked me about how I handled difficult customers, and I realized that I have the best customers in the world! The people that are drawn to my subversive embroideries are the same kind of people whom I would be friends with in real life. In fact, I have made a lot of friends with those of you who have stopped by to chat with me at craft festivals. You guys really are the best. Thanks for everything!

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Sporking an Elephant

Let me introduce you to an awesome army wife named Diane. Here's a bit of an email exchange I had with her over on Etsy:

"A popular saying amongst Army wives is about eating an elephant one bite at a time. (finding out about impending deployments & all that means tends to feel like getting an elephant stuffed in your mouth... at first you don't think you can do it)."

So, I made Diane this embroidery. 

This holiday season her husband is in Africa (his sixth deployment!) and they got to spend a short moment talking via a military video teleconference call. 

The holiday season can be tough for so many people and I truly admire the strength and dedication of those who serve our country and their army spouses. Merry Christmas and happy holidays to Diane and the #36thEngineerBrigade !!!

If you want to be extra cool, you could post one of your own Christmas photos with any of your holiday wishes to the #36thEngineer Brigade on Instagram. Or here on my page. THANKS!

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Scary People

Update! If you are on a device that doesn't show the video in the post, here is a special link. CLICK.

Halloween ended a few weeks ago, but I thought that I would share with you this very powerful, moving, awe-inspiring movie that I made to the footage my husband took while we were at Frightmares at Lagoon Park.

If it would help to have context about how I feel about haunted houses and Halloween LARPing teenagers please read this post and this post.

I'll wait.

Finished? Then may I present to you (all five of you) my very first YouTube video: Too Many Scary People. 

Monday, October 27, 2014

The Heart of a Floozy

Perhaps, I should explain this.

I stitched this pillow for my brother about four years ago when he was down in the dumps after a messy divorce. It really cheered him up! Isn't it adORable? My mom sewed the pillow part, because I am super allergic to sewing machines. But the embroidery, the appliqué heart, and the adorable-ized hate is all mine.

Yes. There is a back story. Take my hand while we gently travel down memory lane. (Why is your hand so sweaty?) When I was an early teenager I went through a hardcore holocaust reading phase. You know, where I would read every single book I could find on the subject. Anne Frank was followed by Alicia was followed by The Hiding Place, and a kazillion more. It was an obsession. I still do the same thing now with my reading. Exhaust a genre. Young Adult Urban Fantasy, Serial Killer Lit, whatever. I don't stop until I feel sated (much like the serial killers and vampires I read about. Interesting.)

One day, many bad hairstyles ago, my younger brother Eric was teasing my other (even younger) brother John -- in a really stinky-mean way that I found morally appalling. I'm sure that I was in the middle of some gut-wrenching novel, when I stopped, looked at Eric with the eyes of an avenging angel and told him, "You have the heart of Hitler."

This is now a family favorite story. Told and retold at every get-together. (Along with the one of me hiding behind the couch when I had a bad perm. Yes, I was 17 years old. I would still hide behind the couch if that happened to me now.) 

I can just imagine my brother as an old man, his little grandchildren gathered around his knees, bringing out this keepsake pillow, and telling them the touching tale of how long, long ago, his over-dramatic sister told him he had the heart of Hitler.

Cherish precious memories. Cherish.

And here is my point. We all say horrible things. With this new Adorable-izing the Hate project of mine, I have gotten a lot of feedback. Most positive. A wee little bit negative. And I think it is important to remember that behind every hateful comment is a person. Sure, some of these online trolls are probably actual trolls with rocky crevices and lichen growing out of their toenails, but some of them are just people who say really stupid things. Really hurtful things. I would hope that if any of the people who have found out that I have stitched their online comments, texts, or social media rants, and feel angry about it, that they will be able to take responsibility and apologize. And then laugh. Because we all know that laughter is the second best medicine. (Xanax being the first.)

Eric, I am sorry that I said such a weird teenagery hurtful thing to you so many years ago. You have the heart of Oprah.

*This is a repost of post back from the early days of my blog. But it felt super relevant to today. 

Monday, October 20, 2014

Your Basic No-Frills Sales Agreement

To all the people who are here because of HuffPo or The Independent, WELCOME TO THE CRAZY. Sit down and stay awhile. I will stitch while you tell me all about yourself.



As an artist who makes everything by hand in dim lighting without the aid of sweatshop workers or elves, I retain the rights to the patterns I create for custom orders. I reserve the right to reuse my patterns and to post photographs of my finished (hand-stitched-in-dim-lighting) embroideries. Like other fan artists, I allege that my embroidery work is transformative and permissible under the fair use principles of U.S. copyright laws. I do not sell enough embroidery commissions to warrant any freaking out from the owners of any copyrighted materials, whereas I only make enough money to buy an occasional McDonald's Breakfast Combo #9 with a super-sized Diet Coke to-go.  If you have a beef with anything I have made or do not feel properly attributed, please email me directly at and I will consult that cold dark stone that is my heart after I make a phone call to my kickass big sister lawyer.

If you would like to buy an embroidery pattern that I create, for exclusive rights, to be used only by you or your very own equestrian dressage society, then you must agree to pay the full price of $250. Which would make me very happy indeed, because then I would be able to afford the medication I will need to unclot the McDonald's Breakfast Combo #9 from my cold dark heart.

I will assume that you agree to my terms unless you write me an email in caps-locked comic sans font stating that you do not agree to my terms. In which case, I will politely decline doing business with you.

If you are the awesome person whom I believe you to be, and have made it through this delightful sales agreement without falling asleep, thank you for commissioning a custom order from me. Let's be friends. Want to meet for McBrunch?

Ridiculously yours,
The Cotton Floozy

Friday, August 22, 2014

Andre the Giant doesn't care if you obey the ice bucket challenge or not.

Obey. Or not.

Everybody is doing the ice bucket challenge. And honestly, I think it's great. That doesn't mean that you have to do it, too, to fit in with the cool kids like Amanda Palmer and Weird Al. (Hmmm. My idea of "cool kids" might be different from the norm.)

One of my friends has epilepsy. She probably won't be doing the ice bucket challenge. My mom is in remission from cancer. She is going to skip it, too. A lot of people suffer from severe public-embarrassment allergies. Which is what I have. The idea of filming myself being doused in ice water makes me mildly, meekly FREAK THE EFF OUT. That doesn't mean that I don't enjoy watching you being doused with a bucket of ice water. I enjoy watching your humiliation *immensely." 

Here is my introvert-approved ice bucket challenge. I sit down on a computer, log onto and donate some money to the cause. I can choose whatever amount I like. I don't have only two choices. It doesn't have to be either $10 or $100. Maybe I'll choose $32! or $300,200! At this point, I would like all of you to focus your magical energies on me actually having $300,200 dollars. Thank you. Point is, you can feel just as good and less wet by sitting down and donating money on the internet. You don't even have to put pants on. (If you are going to film the actual ice bucket challenge, please wear pants. Except for you Alexander Skarsgård. Mrrrreow.)

Here's the thing. My grandma died of ALS. It was not a fun way to go. She sat there paralyzed, not able to talk or communicate. She was completely aware, but unable to say, hey! stop arguing about politics! Or, you there! I wanted a chocolate milkshake, not this lame vanilla crap! 

Eventually, she stopped being able to swallow or breathe and she died in the hospital. Really, not a fun way to go.

Now, to cheer myself up, I am trying to think of a fun way to go. Maybe a quick painless decapitation from the sword of your enemy while you're chest-deep in pirate gold? Or being split in half instantaneously when out of nowhere a giant dome comes down over half of you and all of your town? Or croaking while being loved to death by a succubus? I really need to take a break from reading ridiculous novels.

There's no need to trash talk the bucket challenge. A gentle snarking is fine, but don't go Matt Walsh all over it. It's just a fun fad. A YouTube sensation. (Please, Lord, let me never be a YouTube sensation, amen.) If someone challenges you and you don't want to do it, say NO. If you don't want to donate money, or much more likely, can't afford to donate money, don't worry about it. Lou Gehrig absolves you. The pressure reminds me of those chain letters from the 80's, where if you didn't forward the chain letter to ten people, you would be cursed blind and fall down a well.  

Go ahead and dump a bucket over your head. Or not. Go ahead and donate money. Or not. Just don't be a dick.