The Octopus’s Garden: A Tangled Tale of Beaded Brilliance by Caprilicious

Hello folks, how are you today? I've been busy at work, but came home each evening excited as my necklace took shape and resembled more and more what I envisaged it to be. 
The first few days of making a piece of jewellery are very difficult as nothing seems to be going well, and straggly bits of embroidered beads seem to mock me - I don't tend to work to a particular design or drawing, just a concept of how I think it should end up when finished. Sometimes, that works and the concept is fulfilled, and at other times, I have to rescue it from being nothing like the idea I started out with. Some of those latter pieces are the best! However, who doesn't love it when a plan comes together?

It started innocently enough with a few shimmering sequins that reminded me of fish scales. There I was, beads and sequins strewn across my workspace like a shipwreck on the ocean floor, when the idea struck me: why not bring a bit of the ocean bed to life using what I had before me?
After all, I've made a number of pieces resembling meadows and wild flower gardens with poppies and cornflowers. And thus, the idea of “The Octopus’s Garden” was born. Before I knew it, I was diving headfirst into an underwater adventure, each bead and sequin transforming into vibrant sea life.

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First came the fish, glimmering with iridescent blues and greens, as if they were darting through the coral. These little guys were tricky—every time I thought I had them under control, they seemed to swim away, only to reappear in a different spot. Pesky little critters, but I finally managed to wrangle them into place.

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Next up were the sea anemones, which, I have to admit, were a bit more cooperative. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be represented by colorful clusters of beads that look like they’re ready to sway with the ocean current? Each anemone found its spot on the necklace, bringing a touch of whimsy and a lot of color. I stuck a stack of sequins on top of bugle beads, to get them to dance and sway, which is an unusual way to sew sequins, but seemed to work with the general theme of underwater life, but they hid the fish too well and I had to rethink how I used them so that the fish were visible - after all they are pretty too and worthy of attention.

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The coral, on the other hand, was a bit of a diva. It demanded attention, insisting on being the star of the show. With its bright reds, yellows, oranges, and purples, it certainly made its presence known. But I think it balanced out the piece nicely, adding structure to the aquatic chaos.

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Making “The Octopus’s Garden” was no easy task. Imagine this: every evening after work, I would sit down with my trusty needle and thread, ready to tackle another section. But the threads had other ideas. They seemed to have a mind of their own, tangling and knotting in the most inconvenient places. And the beads—oh, the beads! They had a knack for rolling off the table and hiding in the most obscure corners of the room. I think I might still be finding them years from now.

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C​hoosing the colors was like painting a canvas without any guidelines. I didn’t have a pattern or a design; I just went with what felt right at the moment. It was a bit like playing jazz, where every stitch and every bead was an improvisation. Of course, this meant that there were moments of doubt and second-guessing. Was that shade of blue too dark? Should I have added more yellow? But in the end, it all came together in a riot of color that was as unpredictable as the ocean itself. Needles, unfortunately, were not built to withstand the rigors of my creative process. They bent, they broke, they even disappeared entirely (I suspect the cat had something to do with that). And the thread—let’s just say it didn’t always cooperate. There were nights when I would spend more time untangling knots than actually stitching.

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And finally, the whole finished article was backed with card, covered over with felt and finished off with ultrasuede, and finally, edged with a row of tiny beads. I found some seahorse ceramic beads from a trip I made to Boston - I remember my bestie and I walking down the aisle of Michaels, a huge craft supply store, and picking up beads that I fancied in a huge shopping trolley. I got to use them, finally on the back of the necklace.

But despite all the chaos and the frustrations, it was worth every minute. After a month of evenings spent beading and stitching, “The Octopus’s Garden” was complete. It’s a necklace that’s not just an accessory but an adventure. Wear it, and who knows? You might just hear the gentle lapping of waves, feel the salty breeze, and spot a fish or two swimming by. Just don’t blame me if you suddenly crave seafood.

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That's me for this week, folks. I hope you enjoyed the read and the necklace. Have a wonderful weekend and I'll catch you soon, 
Until then
​xx