Embroidery began to appear timidly at modern design exhibitions a couple of years ago, involuntarily raising the question of whether it was actually pulled out of grandmother's chests. But no! Take a closer look - and it will become clear that the technique is traditional (all the same needle, floss, cross, smooth surface, rishelle), but the plot on that pad is not as innocent as it seems, but here we have porcelain (!) cup, and the buyer is invited to decorate it yourself: if you want to embroider chamomiles, and if you want - a skull with bones, as is now customary. And if you look closely, it turns out that the pastoral dumochka with roses and violets is not embroidered at all, but is framed with a pixel print imitating stitches. In general, everything is very much in the spirit of postmodernism. Deception, pretense, irony and hidden meaning.

But another is interesting. Recently, at my grandmother's house, I saw on a wall a cross-stitch embroidered with a cross: against the background of a dilapidated rotunda, the lady in crinolines and a playful gentleman talked on it nicely. The magazine has caused an acute attack of deja vu. The thing seemed to belong to the world of great design and at least too avant-garde for the patriarchal dwelling of her grandmother. Then it dawned on me that here he is, the very authentic vintage that fashion brands are singing in different ways. And that thing is read as relevant simply because it has "fallen asleep" enough and entered a new semantic revolution. Conclusion: boldly reach for embroidered hipparian handbags of your mothers, buy handmade festoon lampshades in antique shops and mix them with modern things "with a squint", and the rest will come up with a sophisticated viewer.