sewn stories: the rooster in my kitchen
Welcome back to our Sewn Stories series, where we celebrate the garments or textiles that hold special meaning in our lives—whether they were crafted by us or someone else. Today, I’m thrilled to introduce Mithra Ballesteros, a stylish blogger whose story revolves around a needlepoint rooster hanging in her kitchen. Her tale is one of resilience, creativity, and connection across generations. Enjoy reading it as much as we did!
There’s a little corner of my kitchen adorned with a framed needlepoint rooster, one of my most cherished belongings. This wasn’t just any needlepoint—it was created by my grandmother, Zarrin, when she was a young girl growing up in Hamadan, Iran, sometime in the 1920s. She was incredibly skilled with a needle, often stitching to support herself and her family after her father passed away. Later, when she married my grandfather in 1927, she insisted on pursuing her passions despite societal norms.
Zarrin’s needlework wasn’t just about creating beauty; it was a testament to her independence and determination. While most women stayed indoors during that era, she ventured out every day, wearing a French hat instead of a veil—a bold move in a society where such actions could draw criticism. Even more impressive was her decision to learn French and play the tar, a traditional Iranian stringed instrument. My grandfather, understanding her aspirations, hired tutors to teach her these skills at home.
Looking closely at the rooster, I can almost hear my grandmother’s thoughts while she worked on it. The intricate details, especially the rooster’s fiery eye, reveal her meticulous attention to detail. There are no visible mistakes or tangled threads, even on the back of the canvas. It’s evident that she poured her heart into every stitch. In fact, the reverse side looks just as clean and precise as the front—an indication of her exceptional craftsmanship.
Interestingly, the instructions on the back of the needlepoint are written in both Farsi and French. This makes me smile because, like my grandmother, I’ve always been drawn to the elegance of the French language. The diagram for the rooster’s eye is particularly complex, requiring precision and patience. I picture her carefully executing each line, ensuring the rooster had a fierce yet elegant gaze.
Despite its intricacy, there’s something unfinished about the piece. My grandmother left some blades of grass incomplete, perhaps running out of thread—or maybe she decided the rooster was complete enough without them. I like to think she valued simplicity over perfection, leaving space for imperfection as part of the story. To me, this unfinished touch feels like a reflection of her philosophy: sometimes, letting go of perfection is what makes life richer.
Ironically, my grandmother never considered her needlepoint worthy of being framed or displayed prominently. She viewed it as mere canvas and thread compared to the greater opportunities she pursued later in life. When given the chance to study abroad, she set aside her needlework to embrace higher education—a decision that shaped her legacy. Yet, here it is now, framed in my kitchen, becoming a symbol of our shared history and values.
I admire her courage to prioritize what truly mattered. At the same time, I cherish the fact that she left behind this small masterpiece, connecting me to her world. It’s a reminder that even the simplest creations can carry profound meaning across generations. If she could see this rooster now, she might laugh at how much significance I’ve attached to it—but I hope she’d understand why it holds such a special place in my heart.
Photo Credit: Renn Kuhnen
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