Ribbon has a funny reputation. For a lot of people, it immediately brings to mind gift wrap or holiday bows, maybe a spool tucked into a drawer and forgotten. But spend any time around makers, and it becomes clear pretty quickly that ribbon has always been more than a finishing touch. It’s a material in its own right, and one that shows up in far more crafts than you might expect.
I see ribbon constantly in estate sales and old craft stashes. Rolled neatly. Wrapped around cardboard. Sometimes labeled. Sometimes not. Satin, grosgrain, silk, velvet, organza. Some pieces clearly saved for “something special,” others worn soft from use. And every time I find a collection like that, it’s obvious that whoever owned it had plans beyond tying bows.
Ribbon has structure. It's a building material.
One of the reasons ribbon sticks around in craft rooms is that it behaves differently than fabric yardage. It already has edges. It already has structure. It can be stiff or fluid, shiny or matte, delicate or sturdy. You can fold it, braid it, stitch through it, layer it, or knot it, all without having to cut and finish raw edges first.
That makes ribbon surprisingly versatile. It’s used in sewing, embroidery, textile art, jewelry making, bookbinding, millinery, and home decor. Sometimes it’s the star of the project. Sometimes it’s quietly doing structural work in the background.
And sometimes it’s both.
If ribbon has a signature craft, it’s probably ribbon embroidery.
Ribbon embroidery uses narrow silk or satin ribbons instead of traditional embroidery floss. The effect is instantly different. Stitches become dimensional. Flowers lift off the fabric. Leaves curl naturally. Even simple stitches look lush.
It’s a technique that feels painterly without being complicated. You don’t need a massive stitch vocabulary to get beautiful results. The ribbon does a lot of the work for you, which is part of the appeal.
Historically, ribbon embroidery shows up in clothing, household linens, and decorative panels, especially in the 18th and 19th centuries. Today, it pops up everywhere from heirloom-style projects to modern mixed-media embroidery. And it plays especially well with vintage ribbon, which often has a softness and sheen you can’t quite replicate with newer materials.
Beyond embroidery, ribbon finds its way into all kinds of making. Some people weave it. Others crochet or knit with it. It becomes trim on garments, handles on bags, ties on aprons, straps on ornaments. It gets braided into belts, stitched into quilts, wrapped around journals, and turned into flowers, rosettes, and sculptural elements.
Ribbon also shows up in places you might not immediately think of as “craft.” Milliners use it to shape and stabilize hats. Bookbinders use it as page markers and structural reinforcement. Doll makers rely on it for period-accurate clothing details. Textile artists use it to add texture without bulk.
What makes ribbon appealing in all these contexts is that it already carries intention. It’s decorative by nature, but it’s also controlled. You’re never wrestling with it the way you sometimes wrestle with fabric.
But still vintage ribbon feels... different.
There’s a reason people seek out older ribbon. Vintage ribbon often has better fibers, richer color saturation, and a hand feel that’s hard to describe until you’ve handled enough of it. Some frays beautifully. Some doesn’t fray at all. Some holds shape in a way modern ribbon just won’t.
When I find ribbon in old craft collections, it’s usually been saved carefully. Wrapped. Tied. Sometimes labeled with a project in mind. And even when that project never happened, the ribbon itself remains ready for something new.
It’s one of those supplies that doesn’t really go bad. It just waits.
What I like most about ribbon is that it invites experimentation. You don’t need a big plan to use it. A small length can become something finished. A spool doesn’t demand commitment. You can try an idea, change direction, or abandon it entirely without much loss.
That makes ribbon a great material for people who like to play. Or for people getting back into making after a long break. Or for anyone who wants a tactile, low-pressure way to work with textiles.
And if you’ve ever opened a box of old ribbon and thought, “I don’t know what to do with this, but I don’t want to get rid of it,” you’re not alone. Ribbon tends to earn its keep, eventually.
