Home economics is about as far as most of us got with embroidery. Not Tim Moore, the English born artist who has embraced a world of delicate needlework and thimbles. Vibrant threads and absurdist scenes are set against the purest of white linen. The subtle, comic nature of his works is only enhanced by his use of whimsical titles such as “Granny Going Down’ and ‘Mums Piss Tool’.  But if the in flight security was as tough as they’d have us believe he might never have picked up a needle and thread. Tim Moore tells Dazed Digital about slipping needles through customs and his love of nudist magazines.

Dazed Digital: So how did you end up in Australia?
Tim Moore: I came over in 1999 for a holiday, met a girl and fell in love so I came back for good in 2001. I was working for jeweller in Brighton but I wasn’t mad into it, I was more into illustration.

DD: Embroidery isn’t a medium that immediately springs to mind. How did you get into it?
TM: I carry a sketchbook everywhere I go but I left my book and my pens at Heathrow Airport when I was coming over here in 2001. I borrowed a pen and started scribbling on my bags and then I got the in-flight sewing kit and started embroiding these little pictures. I just did all these silly portraits and I got quite into it.

DD: 2001? So you flew out here before September right?
TM: You don’t get the in flight sewing kit anymore but that was after September 11, I flew out here in December. I always bring my sewing kit with me so now when I fly I’m always waiting for them to say I can’t bring my needles with me. But I always have a couple on me. I stash some in my wallet or in my toiletries bag so if they do take my needles I can still sew on the plane. I’ve got a really massive beard and people always joke that I look like a terrorist and I’ve got a load of needles on me.  

DD: When did you decide to start exhibiting them?
TM: I put one into an exhibition and it was really well received so I thought I’d try and do it properly. My girlfriend’s mum is Sicilian and she’s really into the haberdashery skills and she makes all her own lace, all the proper stuff. She gave me a load if thread and all this beautiful hand woven, Sicilian linen that her mother made in Sicily in the 1920s. Then I bastardised the whole lot, I started by doing one of Britney Spears with a cut face, a black eye and teeth falling out. You know. Hit me baby one more time.

DD: Your last few shows have had a lot of nudes. Where have you been drawing inspiration?
TM: The last few shows I’ve done have been directly linked to the Australian nudist lifestyle. They have this magazine, TAN, The Australian Naturist. It’s fucking hilarious but it’s not even meant to be funny - they still wear their shoes and socks. There’s people doing everyday things but in the nude. I start with images from the magazine and the doctor them in some way, take some limbs off or give a lady a cock or a man some rubber gloves then take it from there.

DD: Do you get out to the nudie beaches much then?
TM: I’ve only been once but I didn’t get nude, there where all these kids watching. We’d been camping so my friend Banksy tied a rope to his neck and his knob so whenever he moved his head his knob go up and down. I’ve got a photo of him chasing the kids away so I’m going to embroid it and give it to him for a present. It always seems to be old people at those places anyway.  

DD: The Banksy?
TM: No, it’s another Banksy. That would be pretty funny if it was though.

DD: Is it painstaking work?
TM: It’s a really slow process. I draw the picture first on paper, and then on the linen, then I trace that with thread before I fill it in with more thread. Each piece takes 50 to 100 hours to do. I’d love to take six months and do one big piece but then it might become a bit inaccessible. I’d have to sell it for $10,000 and even then I’d only be getting $10 an hour.