Designing with Joy, Why I Scrapped a Pattern After Weeks of Work

This summer didn’t go to plan. I’d gone into July full of ideas, we were going on holiday, then we had the rest of the school holidays to plan fun days out, go on plenty of dog walks, and spend time hanging in the garden at home. I thought I’d be able to make the most of summer with the kids while also making progress with my next design.

However, that wasn’t the reality. We did go on the most beautiful holiday, just over a week of making memories, relaxing, soaking up the sun, and consuming ridiculous amounts of Greek salad. When we got back, we had a week of mostly chilling at home, with a cinema trip and a spur-of-the-moment London theatre visit thrown in. The mornings were slow, I could fit in some work, and then we’d do something fun in the afternoons.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I came down with a nasty virus that wouldn’t budge. Four weeks (and a round of antibiotics) later, I’m still not fully better. Juggling school holidays alongside running a business or holding down a job is something most parents understand, but throw in being ill and it’s the extra plate to spin that you really didn’t anticipate.

Before the school holidays began, I had already started working on a new pattern. In fact, it was the design I was supposed to create before Neville’s Bear ever came about. But then Neville arrived, and my plans shifted. Designing a bear just for him felt right, and a few weeks later I was sharing both his bear and his story with the world.

So, when summer came around, I thought it was finally time to dust off that original idea. I’d spent hours doodling, researching, and working out exactly how I wanted it to look. I started drafting the pattern, and that’s when things started to feel… not quite right.

I was avoiding the work. When I did eventually force myself to sit down, I felt resentful. Every other pattern I’ve designed has been driven by love, passion, and joy. Even Neville’s Bear, created during such a emotional time, was filled with love & joy, I’d designed it with the thought of one day telling him why I made it, and everything he had overcome during his first few weeks. But this new design? The joy was missing.

It felt like trying to turn a key in a lock that’s stuck. Every time I tried, the shapes wouldn’t come together. The curves were wrong. I couldn’t focus, and it just wasn’t happening.

Meanwhile, another idea had been quietly buzzing around in my mind. I could picture it clearly, but I kept telling myself, That’s what I’ll do next. I need to finish what I’ve started.

Then, one morning in August, my children were happily entertaining themselves, so I seized the opportunity to sneak into the studio. I sat at my desk, looked at the pile of pieces that weren’t working, and without a second thought, scooped them up and dropped them in the bin.

I knew in my gut that this design wasn’t the one. My patterns are always created with joy and love, not forced and full of frustration. Almost instantly, a weight lifted. I decided to work on the design that had been buzzing in my mind, and I felt that fizzy excitement return to my belly.

Within just a few hours, I had completed the head pattern and even expanded the idea with extra features and options. Normally, I’d need to research, doodle, and sketch before shaping a design. But this time, I didn’t have to, I could see it so clearly in my mind.

So why did it come together so quickly after weeks of struggle? I know exactly why. I was excited. I was falling in love with the character. When there’s joy in the work, it flows. The shapes, the curves, the character, they all come together as smoothly as a needle gliding through fabric.

Right now, I’m putting the final touches on the design and testing the pattern. I cannot wait to introduce it to you soon.

Sometimes, the best decision you can make as a designer, or in life, is to trust your gut. If it’s not working, put it down. Walk away. Follow what lights you up. That’s when the magic happens.