Once again, before I forget all of this . . . Bullions and I go back a long way. We started out with high expectations of one another. The stitch assumed that I would be a neat and patient embroiderer; I thought I could quickly whip this stitch right onto the linen and move immediately to the next stitch on my list. We were both sadly disappointed.
The first thing I learned was to choose the perfect needle. The ideal needle has very little taper, so the crewel needle I was using was unsuitable. The straighter, less-tapering milliner or darning needles were ideal. The needle should be long enough to hold a large number of wraps.
The next thing I learned was how important the wrapping process is. Every wrap must fall carefully in place beside the one before it. No crossing over or under or changing the order of the wrapped threads, and the tension must remain consistent. The wraps had to look like a perfect metal spring to be successful. And this is a hungry stitch, so it takes a surprising amount of thread to complete only a few Bullions.
Invariably, the stitch tangled unless I kept a finger on it with my free hand as I pulled the thread
slowly through the tunnel of wraps, then to the back of the fabric.
This Bullion-petal daisy is stitched using a variegated cotton floss, two strands. I found that using more than these two strands was often difficult to control. I think it has something to do with that business of the speed of car wheels as you turn a corner, how the outside wheels require more revolutions than the inside wheels because they cover more distance. So I never use floss longer than 20" or 22" in length, though if I am using a single strand of a perle or a mercerized cotton, the stitching is very smooth and I can use a longer thread.
Bullions may lie nicely flat and make an interesting filling stitch:
Here is an example of very exactly aligned Bullions in cotton floss, two strands, that form a seed pod. I think the over-dyed thread contributes greatly to the charm of this little example:
And when you tire of laying them in flat lines, they can be "scrunched up" into an extreme texture:
It is difficult to see in the photograph, but the Bullions are piled together the way children might pile their blocks, without any attempt to stack or line them neatly in place. Think of the stitch this way: normally you would have as many wraps as you have distance to be covered (maybe 10 wraps for 1/2"), but in the scrunched version, you have far too many wraps for the tiny distance between coming up and going back down into the ground fabric (maybe 20 wraps for only 1/8"). The resulting 20-wrap stitch bunches up and resembles a roly-poly bug.
Extremely long Bullions are interesting. To make them, I use doll-makers needles, which are a dangerous length (I have one that is 6" long, another is 10" long) and without taper, but these sabers allow for 30 to 50 wraps (or more) before I begin to return the needle to the fabric. Holding the wraps between thumb and index finger is the magic that keeps everything in place as the long thread is pulled s-l-o-w-l-y through the tunnel of wraps. This flower has petals made with one of these long needles. The center is a cotton-stuffed silk roundel covered with French Knots:
Besides neat petals, these long-ish Bullions are great for areas of over-the-top textured, because the loops can twist out of control when the needle is wrapped dozens of times, and the result is a run-amok look that is difficult to achieve within traditional, orderly embroidery. Variegated thread adds delightfully to the chaos.
On the other hand, flat, mannerly Bullions can be used to create grids,
and they might also present a nice "checkerboard" effect (in perle cotton #3, below).
They may be used to make large, textured Cross Stitches,
and a tail may be added as part of the final tacking stitch (just move the needle away from the point you would normally terminate the stitch). This example is in rough metallic thread,
and these are stitched in a variety of cottons and rayons (here I always expect to see Moses being pulled from his basket floating amongst the bull rushes):
I also discovered that by going back to the crewel needle, I could make Bullions take on the shape of seed pods, an effect I have exploited in this abstraction of a flower head:
In addition, a Bullion may be substituted for a part of a composite stitch such as Mountmellick:
It can also make one half of a detached chain stitch, which is useful in creating textured foliage (shown below). The stitch has a tendency to curl to one side or another, and this curl can be controlled by wrapping the threads either in a clockwise or counter-clockwise motion.
Here the Bullion Stitch is added to a Fly Stitch:
The motions of making the basic Bullion stitch are very similar to those of a Detached Buttonhole stitch (used a great deal in needle weaving), with the addition of a little ridge on one side of the stitch that gives it a woven look. This is obtained by giving the loop a twist as it goes over the needle:
The only way to learn to make Bullions is to sit and make them for hours on end. When I decided, in my struggle with the stitch, that I would be the winner in this pitched battle, I even took it to church with me. I was the organist at the church, and as the organ was placed in a well in the choir loft behind a screen, I felt perfectly safe in stitching during the sermon and the morning announcements. I was much younger and could move faster than I do today, or I would not have tried this, as there is a good bit of coordinated movement in throwing down an embroidery hoop, pulling on the organ stops, and playing the appropriate music at the appropriate time. Somehow, it worked. That was the Summer Of The Bullion.
Having taken a great deal of time in learning the stitch, I began to look for ways to use it everywhere-- and the more looking I did, the more opportunities I found.
Good Stitching!
