The toilets are outside. The joy is inside. Come see what we’ve built.
Thimble Studios is nestled away in an unassuming former Vestry in the historic market town of Newcastle Emlyn in West Wales.
If you haven’t been here yet, you might fancy a little peek behind the door?
And if you’ve ever stepped inside and gone “OOOH” (you wouldn’t be the first), you might be surprised to hear what it looked like when I first found it…
What it used to look like…
We’re in a tiny town called Newcastle Emlyn, tucked into the lush, green hills of West Wales—20 minutes from the sea, but light years away from reliable heating. And in 2020, during the second lockdown, I signed the lease on a draughty, echoey former vestry that had one plug socket and approximately 17,000 blue tack marks on the walls.
From the outside? Still grey. Still a bit drab looking. The toilets are outside (you’ve been warned…).
But open the door and—gasp! Every time. Bright light, big windows, wooden floorboards… and occasionally, the gentle rustle of Jackdaw the (unofficial) roof tenant going about their business.
We coexist. It’s very “rural sewing chic”.
Too big? Too weird? Just right!
My first impression: Oh no—it’s huge. How am I going to fill this?
But honestly, no dressmaker in the history of sewing has ever said that twice.
Give us four corners and a flat surface and we’ll cover it in fabric faster than you can say “unpicker.”
Also… “…It looks like an upside-down boat.”
And that sealed it. It echoed something we’d built in lockdown—a little virtual sewing ship—and I knew I’d found a real-life harbour for all our making.
After seven years of teaching sewing from my car boot, dragging machines from venue to venue, this was a home for Thimble Studios.
An image from a Thimble Studios fabric sale one December – it shows off those big beautiful windows and light!
We scrubbed. We painted. We conquered.
We spent a year just getting to know the place. Then one stormy weekend in February 2021, we gave it the glow-up it deserved: scrubbed, hoovered, cracks filled and coated in 35 metres’ worth of breathable clay paint (because yes, even walls need to exhale).
My partner built a huge partition wall to hide the leftover church artifacts (preaching stand, organ, etc.), which also happens to store a tonne of fabric and machines. It gives the room this gorgeous, modern edge—clean, purposeful, full of creative potential.
And now? It’s kind of a dream.
We are ridiculously lucky with how much space we have:
✂️ Four glorious high cutting tables (no back-breaking bending here, thank you very much)
🧵 Seven individual sewing stations (and plenty of socket to go around!) —Just the ticket to spread out, and make a joyful, creative mess
💫Things on wheels! Chairs, tool trolleys, even the fabric recycling bins. Perfect for twirling between your machine and the biscuit tin, or gliding around like a very tidy sewing surgeon.
All my irons live here now.
They’ve finally settled down—no more hunting for plugs or fighting with a folding board.
I’m often caught ironing a dress while still wearing it. Peak multitasking.
It’s not just a pretty room, it’s a whole sewing ecosystem.
Hundreds of students have sewn here—first seams, big seams, triumphant zips, the lot (I really should’ve kept count).
🎥 ⚡It’s the set of my online sew-alongs . Just me, two cameras, two tripods and a hazardous jungle of leads.
We’ve had a fabric sale that tested the strength of every tote bag in town—complete with home baked mince pies, mulled apple juice, and deadstock treasures I hauled back from Paris’s most secret warehouses. The whole thing was held together by festive vibes and my truly heroic Gaviscon-fuelled antics (I was 9 months pregnant!)
And the best part? It’s not just mine—it’s shared with a wonderful fellow designer Studio VSM, a few friendly visiting dogs, and (let’s be honest) my 18-month-old, who’s claimed his scooter parking spot inside the foot treadle of my industrial sewing machine.
It’s where students sew, sip coffee, and sometimes get a standing ovation from a toddler (A Freeranger Friday exclusive experience). It’s bright, it’s busy, it’s occasionally sprinkled with biscuit crumbs… and I love it.
Whether you’ve been through the doors already or not—this little studio holds a lot of magic. Come see for yourself sometime. 🧵💫
I’d love to welcome you in.
