My needlepoint story began not so long ago in December 2023. I got the idea to open a needlepoint store practically the day I started stitching. Like many other new stitchers at the time, I saw Calder Clark's viral TikTok video and was done for.
But let’s back up a little…
As a kid, my Memere taught me how to cook, sew, and garden. She was the ultimate homemaker, a Martha Stewart type, in a female empowerment, entrepreneurial way. She showed me that setting a table is just as important as the food that goes on it, but mostly that nothing matters more than the people gathered there. For that reason, and some other more personal ones, hosting will forever be my love language. Even in my small Brooklyn apartment, I take every excuse to bring out her china.
From the age of four, I made napkins, tablecloths, even purses at her hip. I still bust these out at my own dinner parties, and it kind of amazes me that they’ve not only held up after countless washes, but also that I still love the pattern: an oak leaf motif in a deep forest green color.
Back then, we would spend hours at Joanne Fabrics (RIP) picking the perfect toile for my aunt’s napkin set or friend’s bag. Giving those pieces as gifts taught me how meaningful it is to share something you’ve created with someone you love — how a small but thoughtful gesture, whether it’s a homemade jam, a recognition of a milestone, or a stitched needlepoint ornament, can make your people feel seen and special, and in turn, make you, the giver, feel good, too. And the feeling never gets old.
Not only could my Memere make anything from nothing — often out of necessity, for practical or budgetary reasons — but she also never sacrificed beauty for function. She had a loom! Obviously, I was awed by her.
Looking back, I think her Frenchness shaped how she moved through the world. She insisted on elegance, savoring food and placing beauty at the center of family life. Every Sunday dinner carried that sensibility. She could make a table feel abundant, a home feel alive, and each of us—her husband and three kids, their spouses, and all her grandchildren—feel special. She was the glue.
She passed away unexpectedly in 2010 at the age of 67, just as I was entering college, a few days before my 18th birthday. We were all devastated, and I took it especially hard. She was one of the first people I ever lost, and it took me a long time to understand the hole her absence left in my life and in our family.
One of the ways I tried to memorialize her was by launching a late-night (and admittedly super illegal) meatball sandwich business out of my dorm room using her infamous recipe. I even filmed “the making of” for the World on a Plate class I took with José Andrés in my junior year. The sub business didn’t last, but in the years that followed, I started three other more successful ventures, two of my own and one with my long-time mentor and boss, each of which taught me invaluable lessons and prepared me for what would eventually become Le Fil.
Needlepoint, with its tactile, meditative, and deeply creative qualities, seemed like the perfect way for me to reenter that world. Her world. Once I got the bug, my instinct was to start… immediately.
I was visiting my mom in Florida for Christmas slash Hanukkah, and the closest needlepoint store was 45 minutes driving from her house. I convinced her that it would be a fun adventure, and off we went.
I’m sorry to report that I had a pretty bad experience at that store. I won’t dwell on it much, as the goal is never to disparage. The owner seemed put out by my questions and eagerness to learn: how do I anchor a thread? How do I know where to start on the canvas? What are stretcher bars? How do I open a skein of thread (what’s a skein??)? I went home with an intricate 18-mesh canvas with 17 color changes.
IYKYK: I almost quit on day one.
Determined not to give up — and also since teaching myself something new was the one and only goal I’d made that New Year — my next stop was to do what I do best: online shop. Other than Calder Clark and Bicoastal Stitches, I didn’t know anyone who needlepointed and had no clue where to start. No kidding, BCS’ video featuring her To my Valentine canvas was the second one served to me after Calder’s ornament collection.
Beyond TikTok, I struggled to find good resources. A natural place to go would’ve been an LNS. At the time, I didn’t even know what an ‘LNS’ (local needlepoint store) was, but eventually discovered that New York had three: two on the Upper East Side and one in the West Village, each with its own vibe and clientele. I became a loyal shopper at all of them. Most of my (insanely large) stash comes from these stores, and it’s deeply important to me to shop local and support women-owned businesses whenever I can. Still, the reality is that they’re a long train ride from Brooklyn and none offered quite the sense of community I was craving.
So I turned to the internet, expecting it to be easier, but quickly realized it was not. Many LNS websites weren’t built with ecommerce in mind, and the few digitally native options I stumbled across felt limited or poorly executed. Selections were small or not my taste, merchandising was confusing, and the UX/UI often made them hard to navigate. I remember specifically struggling to filter for beginner canvases, and even after I found one, feeling lost on which threads were needed to kit it.
That’s when the idea began to take shape. I did a lot of research, created a deck outlining the market opportunity and pain points, held stitch nights at my apartment, polled friends (even starting some needlepoint obsessions), and met with my former boss, the founder of a mega-successful clothing brand, for his insight and advice.
Bearing all that in mind, I’m excited to reimagine what a needlepoint experience can and should be. We’re starting with an online store, launching in early October, and one day, hopefully soon, a retail space in Brooklyn. Both will be spaces that feel intuitive, inspiring, and welcoming to beginners while still serving experienced and expert stitchers, and, critically, offering our unique POV.
For the last 11 years, I’ve worked in fashion and beauty in areas including merchandising, buying, planning, strategy, paid media, and ecommerce, and, having also started and self-funded several businesses, know I can add value to the space.
In a world saturated with screens, I was craving a mindful, analog hobby and real-life connection. And born from that came the idea for Le Fil. The name means “threads” in French, a nod to my love of French style and culture, my Memere, and a place I’ve lived and worked and love. I want Le Fil to be the thread of the community, my community.
Back in July of 2024, I was chatting with a friend about the idea and how to kick it off. At that point, I had a name, Le Fil, and not much else. I figured the best place to start was with the brand itself, so she connected me to a graphic designer she’d worked with on her own project. To him, I said:
We spent the next four months putting together the first round of Le Fil branding. It’s a little nutty — and a lot cringe — to look back at those early iterations now. But that process was invaluable. It helped me define who we are, who we’re not, our tone of voice, our wordmark, and more. Other elements didn’t stick, like our initial brand colors, logos, and typefaces, which all needed refining — and in some cases, a complete overhaul. Later, once I began working with BCS, those pieces finally fell into place.
Still, that first exercise gave me the foundation I needed to start shaping Le Fil into something real. Below are some early iterations for your viewing pleasure (the icons, yikes!!):
But then I hit a roadblock.
At the end of 2024, I went through a breakup with my long-term partner— someone I lived with—and it sent me spiraling about what I was doing with my life. The breakup and subsequent “decoupling” became a forcing function for me to take a hard look at what actually makes me feel happy, free, and full. Needlepoint was one of those rare things at the time.
“Your surroundings shape your thinking… upgrade the environment,
and your mindset will follow." — source unknown
There’s no better place to find your spark than the City of Light, and so, I went to Paris. I walked alone along the Seine most nights, reveling in the romance of it all, watching the Eiffel Tower glitter against the sky every hour. Corny, I know. But sometimes corny is good, and sometimes it’s okay to feel like you’re living like Sabrina in Billy Wilder’s 1954 film starring Audrey Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart. I was constantly reminded that all the light we cannot see is inside us, waiting to come out if only we let it. Try smiling at a stranger on the street and see what happens.
By the time I returned to New York in May, I felt steadier and more open to what was next. To say I was ready when the luck happened is an understatement, as, not three weeks later, I met BCS. Read about our meet-cute here.
BCS is everything I am not — an expert stitcher with fluency in the craft and industry, a natural teacher and social media whiz, a connector with deep relationships in the needlepoint community, and so much more. She’d even started her own needlepoint line, which we rolled into Le Fil, and she now leads as our Creative Director. She is not only brilliant, but the best partner and most caring friend. Together, we realized we could take our separate business ideas further than either of us could alone and we’ve built this thing brick-by-brick as a team.
Paris gave me the reset. Meeting BCS gave me the partner I needed to turn Le Fil from an idea into something real.
Stay tuned — our launch is just a few weeks away.
+/- Alexandra
