Well crafters, there’s good news and there’s bad news.

The good news is, the zipper flower is done. Ish.

The bad news is that it just about defeated me and I’ve finished this project with one zipper amoeba and a whole new appreciation for Velcro, snaps and ties.

Zippers are a tricky business, and to turn one into a flower, well, I think that takes a little more dexterity than your correspondent here could muster. Only those who play fast and loose with the whole representational thing are likely to call my little craft a flower. It is a zipper amoeba.

Here’s how I did it, along with a few tips on how NOT to do yours.

First, I consulted a very handy tutorial on craftster.org. Once I had an idea of what I was doing (or thought I did), I gathered my crafting components: needle, thread, scissors and zipper. I had run out of black thread and so had to buy more, which nudged my costs above the £5 mark, but not too far out of reach: all in, my bill was £6.30.

Everything you need to make a zipper flower

A small, but very important, note on zippers: zippers come in several varieties, and one to watch out for is the open-ended zipper. This means that the zipper is not stitched together in that fabric section below the bottom of the zip, and as such can literally come apart. Steer clear of these — you want a regular zipper. The open-ended zipper only leads to trouble… trust me on this one.

Now to the actual crafting. The tutorial instructed me to open the zipper and loop the base bit of one half into the first of several petals. Here I am getting that first petal into position.

Stitching the first petal into place

Once that first loop of zipper is stitched, you’re meant to move on to a second and third (see craftster.org’s tutorial).

However, for me and my open-ended zipper, this is where the trouble began. You should have the zipper as unzipped as possible, with the little handle bit down, but if you have an open-ended zipper, every time you do this, the damn thing flies open and comes apart. Very irritating indeed.

Curses, foiled again! The double-ended zipper breaks...

I tried stitching the bottom bit of the zipper together but that didn’t help, so eventually I just resigned myself to the finicky task and tried to keep the sighing and growling to a minimum (we at OoolaMoola always try to maintain a dignified appearance whilst crafting).

Eventually, after much effort and one complete re-stitch, petal two emerged.

At last! Stitching the second petal into place.

From here, my challenge was to stitch as many petal loops as possible out of the first half of the zipper — I managed four.

Then I repeated the process with the second half of the zipper (cue a cacophony of open-ended zipper-related huffing and tutting) for a petal or two, and rolled the last bit of zip into a centre for the flower. I found this part rather difficult.

Meet the zipper amoeba

Again, I call your attention to the craftster tutorial as an example of how it should look, as mine looks a lot more… well… homemade.

Final step was to flip the ‘flower’ onto its back and stitch the underside together to sort of squish it into a more floral shape. If, like mine, your thread breaks several times mid-craft, this is a good opportunity to go over any less secure bits so the whole thing doesn’t fly apart the first time you wear it.

The underside -- time for some serious reinforcing.

And behold, here it is in situ, a zipper flower only a mother could love!

My mum gets ready to step out in this season's latest zipper amoeba

It would probably look better on a darker coat with gold or coloured buttons, but I think this gives you the gist of things.

So… the verdict

I’ll be the first to say it: this was NOT one of my more successful forays into the world of crafting. I’ll wear it at least once — I have to! — but it is unlikely my zipper amoeba will be a winter wardrobe staple.

As a wise man once said, you’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em. YOU may be a maestro of zipper flowers — and for £6.30, you’ve got very little to lose and possibly much to gain by giving it a go — but me? I’m out.

Spent: £6.30 and a LOT of dignity

Saved: Hmmm…