MUSIC

Emma McKee, aka hip-hop cross-stitch firebrand Stitch Gawd

In 2012, Emma McKee taught herself to crossstitch to make a Christmas present for her mother. Shortly after taking her talent public, she began making elaborate cross-stitched jackets for local hip-hop artists. Her first commission was for Chance the Rapper in 2014, but since then she’s worked with the likes of Lil Yachty and Saba. Most people know McKee as Stitch Gawd, a name she reluctantly adopted after Reader contributor Tara Mahadevan, while interviewing McKee for the Fader, used it as a joke. This year, the Hyde Park Summer Fest invited McKee to make a jacket for one of the performers at last month’s event, and she chose headliner Lil’ Kim. In her eyes, Kim is an undersung hero of hip-hop who was treated cruelly by the popular media during her come-up.

But McKee hasn’t let her success go to her head. She’s a midwest-born, Chicago-raised artist still easing into her craft. The daughter of an opera singer and a priest, she spent her formative years in Kansas City, Saint Louis, and Tulsa. When she was old enough to get out of Oklahoma under her own power, she left for Canada—which she describes as “ideologically as far away from Tulsa” as she could imagine as a teenager—to study at the University of Toronto. She concentrated on postcolonial American literature with a double minor in film and American studies, and during those years she first got involved in the music industry, where her roles since then have included journalism, publicity, and corporate ticketing. She remains humbled to be a working creative, and now she’s trying to use her platform for more than just celebrating hip-hop heroes— she wants to change hearts and minds.

I’ve always just really, really loved music. My mom’s an opera singer, so I grew up, like, playing under pianos and being in rehearsal halls and things. From the time I was seven to 15, I lived in Saint Louis, and there were two great record stores that I could walk to. I would pick CDs based o the cover art, and I remember picking up the Beastie Boys’ Licensed to Ill and being like, “Oh, this is cool.” I was probably 11, but at home all we really listened to was classical and religious music. Rap music just blew my fucking mind. I have loved it since I first heard it. I’m a “big feelings” person. When I love something, you just can’t keep me away, and you cannot keep me away from music.

I was in Canada from about 2004 till 2012, and then I ran into visa issues and had to leave. I was like, “Fuck, where am I gonna go?” At the time my parents still lived in Oklahoma, but there was no way I was going back. LA seemed too far away. And New York was just . . . New York has always stressed me out. When I lived in Saint Louis, my dad and I would take spring break trips to Chicago. We’d stay, like, two days, eat deep dish, and hit the aquarium. I had these great memories here, so I was like, “Why not Chicago?”

When I left Canada, I’d been working at an independent record label and studio, so I had some friends in Toronto who had a music blog. They had a sponsorship with Red Bull, so when I moved here, they were like, “Hey, Emma, can you go to these DJ events and write blog posts for us?”

It was great, because I didn’t know anybody. I met a ton of people and became super enamored with the scene because I was getting credentials to go to venues and write about DJ sets. I remember seeing Kids These Days, which was Vic Mensa’s first group. They had an album that was produced by Je Tweedy with a bunch of other folks on it who went on to do big things. But I remember seeing them and being like, “Well, if this is Chicago talent, I’m in the right place. This is gonna be big.”

Istarted stitching at 27. I’d never picked up a needle before. I was working in corporate ticketing for Groupon, so one year I surprised my dad by flying him out for a World Series game with special access I got through Groupon. It was really epic, and he loved it so much. I was like, “Well, now I have to do something for my mom!”

She had wanted me to cross-stitch forever, and I had no interest in it. Everybody in my family cross-stitched except me. So I thought that I would make her this Christmas present as a surprise. And then it was like, “Oh no . . . I’m very good at this cross-stitching thing.”

At the time I was really trying to find my calling. I really believe people have callings. My parents both found their callings and made major career switches in their 20s. My dad was a civil engineer, and then he got his calling and went o to theology school and became a priest. My mom was a teacher and then got her calling and went o to sing. I was like, “Well, this means that I have to find meaning in my life and, like, the great vocation of things!” And as I was doing this Christmas-themed cross-stitch for my mom, I was like, “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Cross-stitching calms my brain and helps me channel a lot of emotion. At first I was really self-conscious, though. I was making pieces about what I loved, which was rap music, but I kept it a secret. It just seemed like a really weird thing to be into. I still don’t totally realize how far this little thing has taken me. It feels unreal. I was just doing what felt natural to me: expressing my deep love and appreciation of these artists and musicians.

My first big dream was like, “Ohh . . . wouldn’t it be cool if I got some stu on Chance the Rapper?” And then it happened! It happened really quickly! And then stu like that kept happening, several times over, and I was like, “Well, I guess I’d better start dreaming bigger.”

That was hard for me at first, because I’d already achieved what I thought was the best possible outcome. What else could I possibly want? In the beginning, I wouldn’t even let people call me an artist. I felt like such a fraud.