Sewing vs. Sewing for Sewcial Media – What No One Tells You

When I first joined the sewing Instagram in 2019, I had no idea what I was getting into. It all started innocently enough—a few photos of my makes, activity behind the scenes and shots of current WIPs. My aim was to document my makes, making a portfolio I could look back on and be proud of, as well as connect with other people that sew given none of my friends at the time enjoyed this hobby. Fast forward to 2022, and I found myself in a whirlwind of reels, algorithms, and followers after posting a few reels that unexpectantly went viral. My follower count shot up by 50,000, and for a brief moment, I thought I had it all figured out.

But spoiler alert: I didn’t.

Here’s the thing no one tells you when you decide to blend your sewing hobby with social media “stardom”: it’s not all fabric swatches, manicured nails and sponsorships. And honestly? The reality of sewing for social media is a far cry from the satisfaction of simply making something because you love it. Whilst I was and am so grateful for the people following me who are interested in what I make, I was very intimidated by the whole thing. I would read all the comments and messages, and try to reply to them all as rapidly as I could, but I was putting so much pressure on myself to “perform” for it. This was not the reason I joined the Instagram sewing community.

After a six-month “social media posting break,” I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on my relationship with social media, particularly in the sewing world. You know, the one where sewists share their latest makes, post a reel every other day, and dive into the endless scroll (a pastime I got very familiar with during those late-night feeds). While I don’t mean to sound like a martyr, I’ve realised that I’ve been posting for the wrong reasons and not quite feeling like myself in the process. So, I’ve decided it’s time to mix things up. In the future, expect a bit more fun, authenticity, and perhaps fewer carefully curated posts. Let’s just say, I’m ready to sew the way I live—organically, and with a lot less pressure! Are you with me?

But first, please enjoy my ramblings on my story with “sewcial media.” It’s been a journey, after all.


The Rise (and Fall) of the Sewcial Media Dream

My reel series on the Rose Cafe Bustier dress was a “hit”. It went viral, I gained followers faster than I could follow back, and I thought, “This is it. This is when the brands start sending me free fabric!” (Or at the very least, a few well-timed brand collaborations).

But here’s what I didn’t expect: the engagement was… underwhelming. Sure, I had a significant following, but the likes, comments, and shares didn’t exactly match up with the numbers. The sponsors? Still MIA. And let’s not even talk about the fabric freebies.

It became painfully clear that growing a following doesn’t necessarily mean you’re making the right kind of content or building the right kind of community. It’s not just about posting pretty pictures and hoping the followers come flooding in. The algorithm, the timing, and the community dynamics all play a huge role—and none of that is exactly sew straightforward.


Sewing for Fun vs. Sewing for Social Media

As someone who’s been sewing for fun since 2017, I always found joy in the process—picking a pattern, choosing the fabric, and making something with my hands. The satisfaction came from creating, not from the number of likes it garnered.

But when you start posting regularly for Instagram (or, I suppose, Tik Tok, although I haven’t stepped into that arena yet), suddenly you’re dealing with a whole new set of expectations. Here’s a peek at the difference between sewing for fun and sewing for social media:

  • When you’re sewing for yourself, you can take your sweet time. No deadlines. No pressure to finish in a specific timeframe. But when you’re sewing for the gram, suddenly you’re in a race against time. You might find yourself rushing to finish a project in order to meet posting schedules or trends, which kind of takes the joy out of it, right?

    Before I knew it I was sewing for content, rather then sewing for fun or myself.

  • You can post something you’re super proud of, but if the algorithm doesn’t like it, it won’t get the reach you hoped for. If your post isn’t “liked” within the first hour, it’s basically buried—unseen by the world. And, because everything is so performance-driven, it can start to feel like you’re chasing numbers (see the insights on my last reel below) instead of the creative joy that made you start sewing in the first place.

    I’d get so annoyed at myself for letting my content’s lack of success get under my skin. The endless cycle of checking engagement—waiting for a like, a comment, anything to break the monotony—was maddening. It’s as though the dopamine rush of a single notification became the high point of my day, and anything less was... well, less. But that’s not the way I want to live. My happiness should not be dictated by social media activity—this is something I know deep down. It’s a lesson I want to live by, not just for me, but for my kid too. I don’t want them growing up thinking that validation online is what makes life worth living. It’s about enjoying the moment, the craft, the real world around us.

    And then there’s the ever-shifting algorithm, with the social media overlords constantly moving the goalposts. One minute, it’s all about reels; the next, it’s stories; then it’s back to posts again. Honestly, it’s exhausting trying to keep up, and all the while, it completely drains the fun out of it. It feels like a never-ending game where no one really knows the rules, and frankly, I’ve had enough.

  • Let’s talk about that myth of brand collaborations and free fabric. After my initial growth spurt, I thought I’d be drowning in sponsorship offers. Spoiler alert: It didn’t happen. You might get the occasional “DM” from a fabric company, but unless you’ve built a truly engaged community, they aren’t going to be knocking down your door anytime soon.

    Further to this, I had no idea what to do if a brand deal did come my way. I have no experience in sales, and as a woman I have chronically undersold myself my whole life with crippling imposter syndrome. It’s a minefield out there.

The Reel Insights for my last post in 2024

68.4% of my followers saw my last post —meaning nearly a third of my so-called “audience” didn’t even get the chance. A familiar tale since 2023. It’s like shouting into the void, except the void is an algorithm that decides whether my content is worthy. No matter the quality of my posts, they seemed to vanish into the digital abyss.


What I Wish I’d Known about Sewcial Media and what I’ll do differently in 2025

1. Engagement is Key, Not Just Followers

I didn’t realise that having a large following wasn’t necessarily the key to success. A smaller, loyal community of followers who genuinely care about my work is worth far more than thousands of passive followers who scroll on by. The community is why I joined sewing instagram in the first place, and I felt like I had lost most of it. My aim in future is to start building relationships again as, after all, it is called social media.

2. Consistency Over Perfection

It’s easy to get caught up in trying to create “perfect” posts, but social media rewards consistency more than perfection. I don’t want to, have the equipment for, or the time to spend hours editing a single photo just to make it look immaculate. Instead, I’m going to try to post consistently and show up in a more authentic way. Real moments, real mistakes — people like to connect with you as a person, not just a perfectly curated feed.

3. It’s Okay to Take Breaks

Constant posting is exhausting, and burnout is all too real. It’s absolutely okay to step back from the relentless pressure of churning out content. I’ve taken a long break from posting in 2024—mostly because a tiny human arrived demanding all the squishy cuddles (which, frankly, was a far better use of my time). Also, I’m a millennial. I spent most of my teenage years without social media, so I can survive without it. Probably.

4. Sewing for Me, Not for the Gram

Remembering why I started sewing in the first place — because I love creating with my hands, not because I wanted to collect followers like Pokémon. I still enjoy sharing my makes, and sometimes I even get a bit carried away, imagining myself as a visionary film director crafting the perfect shot. But these days, I want to focus far more on the joy of making than on the unpredictable whims of social media.


Final Thoughts

Posting my sewing projects on social media has been incredibly rewarding—when I approach it with the right mindset. But what really makes it worthwhile is connecting with and getting inspiration from others who love the craft, sharing the joy of making, and finding my own creative rhythm.

So, what’s the bottom line? I’m sewing for fun first. If social media happens to reward me along the way, great. But if not, that’s okay too—because my creativity, my joy, and my projects matter more than any number of followers. That’s the outlook I’m taking into 2025.

Have you had any “sewcial media” surprises in your own sewing journey? Let’s chat in the comments! Or tell me—what’s your favourite way to stay inspired, with or without social media?

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Are We All Just Sewing to Avoid Our Problems?