Knitting, sewing, embroidery, quilting—throughout history, these and other forms of textile work have often been dismissed as merely "women's work" and attached to ideas of domesticity and obedience. Yet, as psychologist and avid knitter Nicole Nehrig explores in this captivating book, textile work has often been a way for women to exercise power. When their voices were silenced and other avenues were closed off to them, women used the tools they had—often a needle and thread—to seek freedom.
With Her Own Hands brings together remarkable stories of women who have used textiles as a means of liberation, from an eighteenth-century Quaker boarding school that used embroidered samplers to teach girls math and geography to the Quechua weavers working to preserve and revive Incan traditions today, and from the Miao women of southern China who, in the absence of a written language, pass down their histories in elaborate "story cloths" to a midcentury British women's postal art exchange. Textiles have been a way for women to explore their intellectual capacities, seek economic independence, create community, process traumas, and convey powerful messages of self-expression and political protest.
Heartfelt and deeply moving, With Her Own Hands is a celebration of women who have woven their own stories—and a testament to their resilience.
When I started this I wondered if it might be too academic for me, but not very long into it I found myself desperate to get back to it I was so interested. The traditions of weaving and textile making in women's lives is explored at every level, from preserving folk history to connecting women from different walks of life, from building bonds to smashing through expectations, this book looks at it all. Across cultures and times there are things that unite women who work with cloth and these foundations allow other women to push the boundaries of what is expected and what textiles can be used for. From the weavers of Cusco to the Jacquard loom that inspired Ada Lovelace and Charles Babbage. From the Gees Bend quilters challenging what art is and what political activism can be to the frustrated painters who were denied entry into classical art schools and who turned to thread, this paints a fascinating picture of the world of women's textiles.. I loved this.
While I was very intrigued by this books concept, I was ultimately left slightly underwhelmed. While at first the chapters of this book made sense, reading through it the stories and subheadings felt disjointed and like they sometimes could have fit better in another chapter. I would have preferred the content of this book to either have been presented chronologically or divisions by time period or by person/group of people, I think this would have made the content flow better. I also wish images of the people or finished objects were added in between the text where it is referenced rather than all grouped together at the end - it would have been more powerful to see and think about the object as it is being discussed. Overall, I was left wanting more from this book. While it touched on some very important topics related to women’s rights, social mobility, independence, etc. as it relates to craft, there wasn’t an extended focus on any one topic that it made it hard to really see the trajectory of that through history and different cultures as I suspect the book set out to do. I was also hoping for a more detailed analysis on some objects, without that I am left with more questions than answers.
As art historian Janet Catherine Berlo says, “The work of our hands is our thought made manifest.” from With Her Own Hands
Thirty-five years ago I made my first quilt, made my first quilt friend, and joined my first quilt group. It altered my life in many ways.
Friends and family supported my hobby and were proud of my work. As we moved every few years, I could always discover a quilt group, or a group of women who gathered together working on handwork: quilting, knitting, embroidering, sewing.
The hobby brought me creativity, community, relaxation, and fulfillment.
I loved learning about quilt history and how quilts were used for political statements, charity, and expressive art.
This wide ranging book touches on textile art across time and the world to explore the importance of the fiber arts in women’s lives.
Gee’s Bend quilt owned by a friend
I was familiar with many of the traditions Nehrig explores, including the Gees Bend quilts which helped bring quilts to the level of art. Quilts gave women a voice before they had the vote. 19th c quilts featured abolitionist sentiments, while contemporary quilt artists have created quilts that speak to systemic racism.
Civil Rights in the South III, 1989, Yvonne Wells
Textiles have been used to express political protest, convey coded messages, record historical events, transmit cultural ideology, process trauma, earn an income, celebrate, and mourn. from With Her Own Hands
Textile traditions Nehrig covers includes weaving, knitting, embroidery, dyeing, sewing, quilting and art quilting. She argues these are not ‘women’s work’ to be devalued.
Thanks to the publisher for a free book through NetGalley.
I love the premise and it's a nice overview of the history of textile art and creation but too often Nehring casts aside feminist theory to highlight women's "individual capacity for creativity and freedom" and therefore does not make the connection between these practices and deeply ingrained misogyny. Never asking why it is that women do work easily done while multitasking housework, requiring "feminine virtues" such as patience and attention to detail, or not being allowed to participate from "sexual maturity to menopause". Every allusion to systemic sexism is softened by "may have"s and "in the past"s.
It often seems as though because she finds knitting rewarding, she does not wish to connect textile work with oppression in any way. This choice feminist line of thought simply doesn't work in historical contexts (like for example ending the chapter about tragedies in factories such as the collapse of the Rana Plaza garment factory and other horrible working conditions such as sexual harassment and horrible wages with "women can continue to experience the satisfaction of making things with their hands in a factory setting").
Nehring laments that women have been discouraged (read: forbidden) from writing down their thoughts so we do not have many sources about what women actually thought about textile work (whether they thought of it as creative expression, a chore, or a mean to earn a living), so she encourages women to... express their experiences in textile work (and saying that there's things that can only be expressed in art and not words is definitely not a new idea).
I did really appreciate the inclusion of pictures of the textile arts though.
As I am becoming more confident in spending my time mindfully (you know, not numbing myself online, but being mindfully offline) books like this are increasingly precious to me.
This is a wonderfull collection of accounts of women finding empowerment and solace in working with their hands.
GR Winter Challenge Challenge | January - March 2026 | Her Story
Book Review: With Her Own Hands: Women Weaving Their Stories by Nicole Nehrig
Nicole Nehrig’s With Her Own Hands is a profound and lyrical reclamation of textile work as a site of women’s agency, creativity, and resistance. As a woman and reader, I was immediately drawn to Nehrig’s premise—that the needle, loom, and thread have long been instruments of quiet rebellion. Her interdisciplinary approach, blending psychology, history, and cultural anthropology, transforms what might seem like a niche subject into a universal meditation on how marginalized voices craft meaning under constraint.
The book’s greatest strength lies in its global tapestry of stories, each thread revealing how textiles serve as both refuge and revolt. The juxtaposition of eighteenth-century Quaker samplers as covert educational tools with contemporary Quechua weavers preserving Indigenous knowledge moved me deeply, highlighting how generational wisdom is literally woven into fabric. As a reader, I found myself pausing to reflect on my own relationship with “women’s work”—the quiet evenings spent knitting with my grandmother, once dismissed as mundane, now reframed as an act of legacy. Nehrig’s analysis of trauma processing through textile art (e.g., British postal art exchanges) felt particularly resonant, offering a visceral understanding of how stitches can suture emotional wounds when words fail.
However, the book occasionally struggles with balance. While the historical and cultural case studies are richly detailed, I wished for more intersectional analysis of how race, class, and disability intersect with textile labor. For instance, the economic precarity of garment workers—often women of color—warrants sharper critique alongside celebrations of artistic liberation. Additionally, Nehrig’s academic background shines through in passages dense with theory, which may alienate general readers; a glossary or illustrative visuals could have bridged this gap.
Emotionally, With Her Own Hands is a revelation. It stirred pride in traditions often trivialized, but also anger at systemic erasures—a duality that speaks to Nehrig’s skill in honoring complexity. Her prose oscillates between scholarly rigor and poetic warmth, particularly in passages describing the tactile intimacy of textile creation. Yet, the concluding chapter’s call to “rethread” modernity with these practices left me craving concrete guidance for readers seeking to engage with textile activism today.
Rating: ★★★★☆ (4.5/5) – A luminous, necessary work that redefines textile art as feminist praxis, though its theoretical depth and occasional silences on structural inequities prevent a perfect score.
Thank you to W. W. Norton and Edelweiss for providing a free advance copy in exchange for an honest review.
Final Thought: Nehrig’s book is more than history; it’s an heirloom—one that invites us to pull at its threads and discover our own stories in the weave.
“When their voices were silenced and other avenues were closed off to them, women used the tools they had—often a needle and thread—to seek freedom within the restrictive societies they lived in.”
This book did a great job of challenging and breaking the stereotype that textile work is a “woman’s job.” Work (or leisure) such as knitting, weaving, sewing, embroidery, quilting, and mending has historically served as one of the most important creative, intellectual, and social outlets available to women. When women were excluded from many formal institutions, they used thread and cloth to express creativity, record stories, transmit cultural knowledge, process trauma, build community, gain economic independence, and even resist political oppression. We are given a few examples here. Quaker girls once stitched embroidered samplers that doubled as lessons in geography, mathematics, and literacy, while among the Miao people of southern China, women created intricate “story cloths” that preserved history, myths, and migration narratives in a culture that historically lacked a written language (est 700-221 BC, I looked up the dates for the The Warring States Period but I could be wrong.) In these traditions, clothing and textiles become more than objects, they become living historical records.
We also explore the emotional and economic power embedded in craft. Nehrig recounts the story of a Nigerian woman who, after experiencing spousal abuse, used sewing as a way to rebuild her life, finding the rhythmic work a meditative space that helped restore emotional stability. Beyond personal healing, textile work continues to sustain livelihoods across the globe: handcraft and textile production remain a major source of employment for women, including traditional weavers in the Andes whose work preserves Quechua cultural traditions (every detail of their work conveys meaning) while generating income for their communities.
Throughout the book, Nehrig makes a compelling case that textiles carry meaning far beyond their practical uses, serving as powerful forms of communication, especially in times and places where women’s voices were restricted or silenced. This was an inquisitive read but also a repetitive one (as informational books usually are.)
I really enjoyed this book. The way Nehrig weaves (ha!) the stories of different cultures folk textile traditions into the academic analysis of women’s labour and labour’s value was fantastic.
She looks at the way that craft has been created and preserved through millennia and the way it is often undervalued both as “women’s work” and as work done with the hands rather than the mind (not true at all, of course, but too often seen as such) and makes a brilliant argument for why both of these things not only do not capture the full picture of textile craft but also why these things should mean we even further appreciate and value them.
Listening to this on audiobook at the same time I was reading Lucy Jones’s incredible Matrescence also made for ideal companions as both delve into the way that the unpaid and even the paid work of women and mothers are unfairly devalued in a capitalist society and the way that patriarchal beliefs lead to certain types of labour being valued over others when work including textile craft is so full of skill and artistry as well as being something traditionally done in the home, by mothers, etc.
Nehrig also makes an interesting argument that textile work can be an act of quiet rebellion, allowing textile makers, more often female but of all genders depending on the work and the culture, to express creativity, tell stories, earn money, even preform espionage — the multitude of uses for the craft offer as many meanings as the many threads that form the quilts, blankets, tapestries, and more.
I absolutely loved this and I'm so glad that picked it up! This was such a fascinating look at textile/fiber arts and brought up so many perspectives and ideas that I'd never considered before.
As an avid crocheter and an occasional knitter, I was delighted to find little pieces of myself reflected in this book in regard to the way I interact with fiber arts and the reasons I find it to be so soothing and exciting.
I found this to be so well-researched and written and easily digestible! I would highly recommend.
However!! I couldn’t get into it in written format and had to switch to audio, and some sections just felt too short!! But overall a really enjoyable read
I’m gonna be so frank — I find non-fiction difficult to get into, but I really enjoyed this book!! It’s well-researched and anthropological (probably why it was up my alley). I would recommend this to anyone interested in anthropology + feminism.
As an embroidery artist, milliner and (new) weaver, I am passionate about belonging to a deep feminine tradition.
The role of fiber arts for everything from artistic expression to financial freedom to mathematical and scientific exploration is compelling and fascinating.
I often loved the content of this book, celebrating or admiring women’s strength, creativity and ingenuity — and feeling empathy for poverty and oppression that often went hand-in-hand with textile work.
3–3.5 stars. A worthwhile read.
But it’s a bit too meandering and disjointed to earn 4 or 5 stars. There were a couple times I had to check that I hadn’t missed a transition paragraph because the subject would change suddenly.
This book isn’t really suited for a start-to-finish reading. It is probably better consumed in small bites and then mulled over. Many more chapters and section headings would have helped this. Some topics (e.g. Gee’s Bend quilts) get several pages, while other stories pop in for just a paragraph or two.
Thank you to NetGalley and W.W. Norton for providing a digital copy to review. All opinions are my own.
I didn’t really understand what this book was about but saw it on Reading Challenge and there were none here in time for end of March. Wouldn’t you know it, it came the evening of March 31. I didn’t have anywhere near enough time to finish it before month end, so I’m hoping Goodreads, with prior notes I’ve written, will give me credit for it.
Anyway, arts and craps (crafts) as my dad used to call it was always going on in our home from the time I was about 10, off and on until just this morning. Done many types such as knitting, crocheting, embroidery, quilting, card making, rubberstamping, origami, sewing, and more. My mom was amazing, my sister is amazing, and I’m trying, but get better in some and less in others. Health issues have slowed me down, but I still have a love for the art of it and for the joy it can bring to my heart.
This book “With Her Own Hands” is a wonder. It is written by Nicole Nehrig, who has done more and learned more than anyone I know in the thousands of ways to work with fabrics, textiles, threads, dyes, looms, and so forth. It was really hard to decide how to address this book in my review. So, I picked out of the gazillion examples and picked some of what I thought were interesting ones to give you examples of items in there.
1. Creation stories and procreative powers are often associated with weaving in mythological traditions. One of the oldest Egyptian goddesses, Neith whose representations date back to nearly 3000 BCE, was the goddess of creation, wisdom, weaving and war. She was thought to be creator of the universe and everything in it. She was thought to weave and reweave the world on her loom daily so that all she conceived of in her heart came into being. In Incan mythology, Mama Ocllo, the personification of Pachamama or Mother Earth, is a fertility goddess who taught the Incans to spin, weave and sew. They learn how to make linen from flax by Mother Holle. Saule’, a Baltic sun goddess considered the mother of all planets, spins the sunbeams on her wheel, generating light like thread. Like the sun, she is associated with fertility and growth.
2. In the Navajo creation story, the holy ones told Spider Woman, a powerful deity, that she had the ability to save a map of the universe and the geometric patterns of the spirit beings in the night sky. She had no idea what they meant or how it could be done, but curiosity drove her to find out. One day, while she was out exploring and gathering food, she wrapped her fingers around the branch of a small, young tree, and when she let go, a string streamed out of the center of her palm and wrapped around the tree branch. She shook her hand to release the string, but it didn’t work. She began to run out of space on the branch, so she started wrapping the string around another branch on the tree, and the strings began to form shapes and patterns. She realized that this was the weaving that the holy ones had told her about. She stayed by the tree all day wrapping the string into patterns on the branches. When she came home that evening, she told Spider Man about her new skill. The holy ones instructed Spider Man to make a loom and tools so she could weave the universe at home. Wondered it this is the starting root for the cartoon and movies of Spider Man? Do ya think?
3. Weaving artist and textile scholar Deborah Valoma told our author about a hooked rug that her ex-husband’s Scandinavian grandmother had made using all the pieces of her children’s outgrown clothing. The rug depicted the tree of life design, with branches forming a circular, or Celtic, knot reflecting the never-ending cycle of life. “It took her forty years. She was a farm wife and had six sons—a super strong woman. You wouldn’t know by looking at it but there was the history of her life and her accomplishments just in the material.” The rug consisted of all the clothes she had made for all the children she had—clothes that had been grown into and out of, passed down from older to younger siblings. The pants got ripped, elbows got patched. If they scraped their knees, the blood is in the fibers. Cloth also contains cells of the maker—our sweat, skin, and blood as it moves through our hands. Not only does it contain the history, but the essence of the family.
4. In many cultures, cloth is an essential part of mourning rituals. In early modern Europe, the linen bed sheets and underclothes that a person died in were often given to surviving loved ones. Sheets and clothing contained the life essence—the sweat and blood—of the dying person who convalesced in them. They were imbued with the person who died and became one of the most valuable things a loved one could receive to hold onto the person after death. Among the Hanunuo Mangyan in the Philippines, the Kutkot ritual involves exhuming their dead and dressing them in cloth to bring them to life again, often several years after their death. The cloth serves as a sort of skin to give the spirit form so they can remain among the living.
Textiles are one way to express political protest, convey coded messages, record historical events, celebrate, earn an income, show cultural ideology and mourn, from this book.
5. Sharing a quote from a review I liked: “The book’s greatest strength lies in its global tapestry of stories, each thread revealing how textiles serve as both refuge and revolt. The juxtaposition of eighteenth-century Quaker Samplers as covert educational tools with contemporary Quechua weavers preserving indigenous knowledge moved me deeply, highlighting how generational wisdom is literally woven into fabric. As a reader, I found myself pausing to reflect on my own relationship with “women’s work”—the quiet evenings spent knitting with my grandmother, once dismissed as mundane, now reframed as an act of legacy." Thank you for your inspiring comment.
You probably need the right temperament to read this book. Hobbies and talents need to be under your skin to appreciate this type of book. However, if you are curious, by all means give it a try. I hope you love it and are enchanted by it. Learned so much history of a different sort. Enjoy!!! Definitely recommend. Rated: 4.5 Stars
I love really niche takes on history- it’s such a fun way to look at the world and I love when it’s a lens I don’t know tons about. I did learn a lot about different textile methods, myths and stories and histories in this novel. I love the power that women took through textile-making. I didn’t love the way it was laid out though, and I wish there would’ve been more discussion about how women, while claiming power through the textile craft, were also pushed into the craft due to misogyny. I saw another reviewer wonder if because perhaps the author finds enjoyment in knitting, she didn’t want to make that connection?
Either way, it’s a good book. But I feel like it could’ve been great if it wouldn’t have left any stone unturned. ⭐️⭐️⭐️ 3/5
Finding it hard to express how much I loved this book. Makes me want to create, connect with the women around me, fight for justice, and cuddle up in the snuggliest quilt all at the same time. Yes yes yes. Forgive the word play but our history is so interwoven into textile craft that I was both surprised by some of the concepts in this book and finding myself wondering if the several examples I could think of would be included. Could have been 100 pages longer and I would have soaked up every second.
there’s so much more to fiber arts than the finished product—the cultural and relational ties that go into learning and making a piece can end up making you a new person, too.
Nehrig has taken a broad but intimate sweep into the lives and cultures that weaving, embroidery, and knitting touch. makes me want to join a knitting circle this year
i LOVED this book- so so interesting to learn about all of the history and benefits of handcraft hobbies!! telling women's history through this lens was so interesting to me and it is so cool to know all of the cultural significance to hobbies that are so important to me! MUST read for anyone who has ever done a craft project- 5 ⭐
I rarely read nonfiction but spotted this on the Women's History challenge list and as a knitter and someone who is learning to sew, it sounded like a good option. I enjoyed it so much that I was disappointed when I realized the book was done at 65% and we were on to the notes (it was a well-researched book!).
Aunque me encanta el tema del que trata este libro, me ha resultado un poco pesado por el orden en el que se han presentado la información y las historias sobre las mujeres. Me ha gustado porque trata temas importantes relacionados con la artesanía, la costura, los tejidos… pero creo que se podría haber organizado mejor.
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- “Freud’s theories of women’s identity development included the idea of penis envy… women’s invention of weaving was modeled after some shame-driven practice of braiding their pubic hair to conceal their lack of a penis. Women can only resolve their penis envy by having a male child.” ?????????????? - “Research shows that the work of our hands is critical to optimal brain functioning… women who engaged in knitting or quilt making in middle age or later life had a decreased risk of mild cognitive impairment and memory loss.” - “When we are able to create our own patterns or work without a pattern, we learn about our minds.” - “In many cases, the learning process is a gift for both the teacher and the student… the student can acquire knowledge while feeling a personal connection to her family and ancestors through her work.” - “Since men knew so little of the crafts (or the craftiness) of women.”
What better way to delve into feminism, anthropology, and psychology by connecting us through the art of fibers. Women have forever labored to survive oppression. I love how this book shares so many ways in which this is true. I’ve made lots of notes and am looking forward to hosting a community book club!
2⭐️ This just wasn‘t for me. I expected a feminist work, I got stories about textile work that where all over the place and felt anti-feminist at times.
I expected to get at least a little bit about the textile strikes of women and the history of womens day. Not a mention, which I find extremely disappointing in a book like this.
I didn’t enjoy this, but I can see the work going into the book, so 1 star seems unfair.
This just wasn’t what I thought it be. That’s not the fault of the author, but I didn’t enjoy the format.
It’s an disorganised collection of historical and contemporary fibre art stories, some are a fleeting mention, some are more in depth. Although I found some of the stories interesting, the more in-depth stories were mostly about artists who use fibre as their medium and I wanted more information on traditional techniques and their meanings/significance, the histories of women using fibres, the stories of items being dismissed as women’s work allowing women to use their yarn work in spying, secret messages, communications of their life stories, etc.
The chaotic ordering of the stories was off putting and hard to follow. For me, this would have been stronger if it had been organised by material, craft, region, or chronology. I think they were loosely organised by feminist theme but these were too vague to give a strong structure and the stories jumped around from modern to historical to modern, from Europe to Central American, weaving to knitting to embroidery all in a few paragraphs.
For me, this was a miss. It read like a series of magazine articles, or a degree thesis, rather than a non-fiction book.