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Reflections following its addition to the Heritage Crafts Red List Don't have time to read the blog? Then why not listen to it on my podcast? Don't miss an episode - subscribe here  There’s something quiet but deeply stirring about the sound of bobbins clicking gently on a pillow, the soft rhythm of threads crossing and twisting as fingers work in harmony with patterns passed down through generations. It’s a sound I’ve come to associate not only with creativity and tradition, but with resilience and a sense of place. Yet this gentle art is now officially at risk. Recently, bobbin lacemaking was added to the Heritage Crafts Red List of Endangered Crafts in the UK. Lacemaking is no extinct, thankfully, but endangered – teetering on the edge. This means there are still enough people practising and passing it on, but not enough to be confident it will survive the next few decades without deliberate support. Action is needed. There are many causes for a craft to enter the endangered lists. Shrinking market, move to manufacture outside of the UK, an aging workforce or a decline in the number of practitioners. People still play cricket worldwide but the manufacture of hand stitched cricket balls is now extinct in the UK. This is because of the rise in machine made cricket balls and non UK manufacture. Fan making has been wobbling on the critically endangered part of the list for many years and it is has remained out of extinction partly due to lacemakers. In the UK as well as Spain there is a tradion of lacemakers wanting to create a bobbin lace fan leaf and if you have a fan leaf, you need fan sticks. However, lacemaking has started to face that those who began making lace in the great revival of the 1970s and 80s are now declining in number with no resurgence in the craft, we see lacemaking entering the list and that will affect fan making.  Fan pattern - C&D Springett, work and photo © the lace bee Bobbin lace is more than an historic curiosity or a nostalgic nod to the past. It is a living craft. One that has shaped communities, sustained livelihoods and created exquisite heirlooms from thread and time. In towns like Honiton and Bedford, and in smaller, less sung corners like Irthlingborough, lace was stitched into everyday life. It was work and pride and artistry. Bobbin lace is more than an historic curiosity or a nostalgic nod to the past. It is a living craft. One that has shaped communities, sustained livelihoods and created exquisite heirlooms from thread and time. In towns like Honiton and Bedford, and in smaller, less sung corners like Irthlingborough, lace was stitched into everyday life. It was work and pride and artistry.  The potential loss of lacemaking is not new. The 1800s saw a trying time for lacemakers, from the Devon lacemakers who petitioned Queen Victoria begging for her patronage to purchase their lace and prevent them from poverty, the the rise of the Luton Hat Industry pushing out other crafts in the East Midlands to the rise of Nottingham machine made lace, hand made lace has had it's ups and downs. But today, we face a slow unravelling. One of the greatest threats to its survival is something familiar to many heritage skills – a lack of visibility. In a world captivated by fast and flashy, the slow meditative nature of lace can be overlooked. Fewer people see it being made. Fewer still understand how complex and calming it can be. Even among craft circles, bobbin lace can seem impenetrable unless there’s someone patient and kind enough to guide new fingers through the first tentative stitches. Adult education once played a powerful role in this. It is four years since I wrote about this in The Lace Notes, and the situation has not improved. The revival of lacemaking in the 1970s and 80s with it being added to the Adult Education syllabus caused a new generation to embrace the craft. Evening classes and local workshops were places where lacemaking quietly flourished. It was never just about technique. It was about community. About women (and occasionally men) gathering after work, sharing stories over lace pillows, helping each other finish tricky corners or repair broken threads. Those classes were lifelines for so many reasons. And now, they’ve largely vanished. Funding cuts, lack of space, an undervaluing of ‘non-vocational’ skills – they’ve all played a part in the decline of adult learning. the final nail in the coffin of Adult Education Classes to learn lacemaking was the requirement in the mid 1990s that all tutors had to have formal teaching qualifications, often to be gained at the financial cost of the tutor and that all lessons had to have strict lesson plans. Anyone who has tried to learn a craft knows that no one student learns at the same rate as another. Two people joining a class will be a vastly different points within a few months so one lesson plan does not fit all. All of this, in turn, leaves fewer avenues for passing lace skills to newcomers. The wonderful exceptions – dedicated lace teachers, committed guilds, enthusiastic local groups – are holding the threads together, but they need support. It has been many years since the schools of Olney taught lacemaking in the classroom.  Although Northamptonshire offered Bobbin lacemaking in 2017/8, it is no longer available in the county. A check on Bedforshire returned the same result I accept that the focus for government funding for adult education has to be towards skills that enhance people's work prospects, especially for the longterm unemployed or returners to the job market. I also accept that taking up a new craft such as lacemaking is not a cheap experience. If you want to try to learn to knit, then a pair of needles and a ball of wool will set you back about the cost of a coffee. Want to take up lacemaking? Then that is going to cost you far, far more because you need a pillow and bobbins. Because, over COVID I received a large number of donations of equipment from the estates of lacemakers who had passed, I have been able to give new students complete sets of equipment to start. Even before then, if someone wanted to try lacemaking, I would lend them the equipment for their first lessons then if they wanted to continue, I'd set them up with free plastic bobbins and try to source a reasonably priced first second hand pillow. When I've taught, I've tried to keep the cost of a session down as low as possible. Effectively I would cover the cost of my extra teaching insurance and nothing else. Since we moved house, I don't have the space to teach at home and I've struggled to find a venue that it a reasonable cost. As I work, I would be looking for running classes in the evening or at a weekend and I have found that many potential students have the same issues with availability as me, they can't attend a weekday class. This means that to make learning accessible, we are looking at needing cost effective locations and access to equipment. And that is before trying to source teachers because many people are wary of trying to share their knowledge. There is also the quiet problem of ageing. Many of the most skilled lacemakers in the UK are now in their seventies or eighties. Their experience is extraordinary, but time is not on our side. with apprenticeships completely off the table, if younger learners don't step in, knowledge slips away with every lost teacher. Lacemaking is not financially viable as a business venture, it sits in the 'hobbies' section of crafts, relegated there because no one is willing to pay the true cost of a living wage for a piece of lace. What hand made lace you find on the market is often from China or India and the cost to the customer does not reflect the true investment of time into the making. Add to this that the market for handmade lace has also dwindled. Industrialisation changed things long ago, but even now, when handmade should hold premium value, the true worth of bobbin lace is often misunderstood. Its price rarely reflects the hours or expertise required. We have to accept that for lacemaking to survive it has to be within the 'amateur' or hobby sector. Now I say this with inverted commas around it as there are many lacemakers out there who produce professional level bobbin lace. However as they do not receive payment for their work, it can not be placed in the proffessional sector. I prefer to use the term artisan for anyone who makes lace. I've talked before about how my sister introduced me to someone as 'a lacemaker' rather than someone who makes lace. We have to embrace that term. We are lacemakers. One of the clear warnings that the Heritage Crafts Association make is over the shrinking base of crafts people, those with limited training opportunities or crafts where there is no mechanism to pass on the skills and knowledge. So what can be done?  We can start by speaking about lace more often. Show it. Share it. Wear it. Join the local talks circuit and get out there and talk about your lacemaking. Become a WI speaker, local lunch club ... anything just get out there and talk. Don't forget about International Lace Day. Go and make lace in public.
 Support local lace groups. Help them thrive. And if there isn’t one nearby, consider starting your own, even a small group can offer encouragement, companionship and continuity. These gatherings are often where the magic happens: new lacemakers inspired, older hands supported and experience stitched into memory. We also need to champion funding for adult learning.
Education is not a luxury, but as a vital part of community life. Bring back the spaces where people can try lace for the first time without having to travel miles or buy costly equipment up front. Let curiosity be enough to open the door. The red list doesn’t mean it’s over. The patient isn't dead, just waving. It means we still have time. Bobbin lace may be endangered, but it is not gone. And like any good piece of lace, its strength lies in the connections between each part – between teacher and student, between generations, between memory and practice. Let’s keep thowing the bobbins.
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