Every time I ask someone if they would be willing to stitch a model for me, the first thing they say is, “Well, I don’t know if I’m up to your [i.e., the designer's] standard. My backs aren’t very neat.”

I don’t know when or how or why this obsession with the perfect backside came to be in work bound for framing or other finishing that would render the backside completely hidden, but I find it …uhmmmm… an exercise in futility.

Yes, a nearly perfect backside speaks to the skill of the stitcher. Yes, a nearly perfect backside is a measure of pride of craftsmanship. Yes, a nearly perfect backside is the envy of all needleworkers everywhere. Yes, I love looking at perfect backsides. But nobody ever sees it but you and your framer!

Now, I don’t actually know a whole lot of people who stitch English with solid-colored floss (where on the back, it looks like this: /|/|/|/|/|/| ), but it is assumed that when talking about “neat backs,” you’re talking about stitching Danish (where on the back, it looks like this: |||||||| ). So the perfect backside would just be a parade of colorful ||||||||s marching across the landscape of the fabric only interrupted by anchored threads here and there (and not even then if you anchor your threads vertically).

I used to be part of the Perfect Backside Brigade. No, really. My backs were as neat as they came and could actually be mistaken for the front. And then one day I read something by a textile restorer, who said that work that has a “messy” backside lasts much, much longer because it has more padding to protect the fabric, thus, the stitching itself wears better over time. Obviously, we’re talking about time differences of three centuries versus five, but still. If you got to be as messy on the back as you wanted and it would last significantly longer, wouldn’t you lose your fascination with the perfect backside, too?

I ask my model stitchers to railroad their stitches and keep an even tension so that the front looks as perfect as it can. I’m worried about topography, texture, and sheen, especially for the purposes of photography. The only requirement I have for the back is that it isn’t unevenly messy, have knot bumps, or random lumps that would show when the piece is stretched and framed (and particularly if it’s framed with glass). For practical purposes, I just don’t think it’s a good return on the investment of time to make a perfect backside.

So, in the name of future generations of needleworkers who might not get to see your work because it had a perfect backside, I give you permission to loosen up a little.