It started small—a few toys for nieces, some embroidered blankets as gifts. But there was something satisfying about the slow rhythm of hand-stitching, the quiet focus of painting tiny faces, the way natural fabrics felt under your fingers.
Living in the Bulgarian countryside gave space for this work to grow. Space to experiment with embroidery patterns. Space to develop toy characters with their own personalities. Space to build a small production without losing the handmade heart of it all.
Today, the studio is a blend of practical and personal. Machines do the structural sewing—because durability matters. But hands do everything else: painting expressions, embroidering names and patterns, knitting miniature sweaters, choosing which frog gets which scent.
The “Gang” in Bb & the Gang? It’s the people who help bring ideas to life, who support and believe in the project. The cats and dogs who think they’re running the show. And two little helpers who make sure every toy gets exactly the right name.
The process
Bb & the Gang happens around a day job that involves computers. But those digital skills come in handy here: embroidery patterns designed on screen, then stitched by hand. Planning happens digitally, making happens with thread and fabric.
Toys follow patterns for structure—because reinventing the wheel every time would be chaos—then get all their personality added by hand. Painted faces (some surprised, some skeptical), embroidered details, tiny sweaters knitted while watching shows. Each one becomes their own little character.
Blankets are where experiments happen. Patterns designed digitally, then embroidered stitch by stitch, often adjusted halfway through when the thread has other ideas. Sometimes it works beautifully. Sometimes it gets unpicked while questioning life choices. That’s the fun part.
Materials matter: natural fabrics that feel good, quality threads that don’t break mid-project, and sustainable choices when possible. There are plenty of mistakes—wonky stitches, colors that looked perfect on screen but weird in real life, the occasional cat-related fabric incident. But that’s handmaking. And honestly, after a day of staring at screens, there’s something deeply satisfying about making something you can actually hold.