If you grew up in the nineties or early two-thousands, the smell of vinyl plastic and the frantic movement of fingers on a bus ride are probably burned into your memory. We called it gimp. Or lanyard. Or scoubidou if you were in the UK. But most people just know it as boondoggle.
Honestly, it’s one of those weirdly meditative crafts that hasn’t changed in fifty years. You take some neon plastic strips, cross them over each other, and suddenly you have a keychain. But then you realize you’ve been sitting in the same spot for three hours and your thumbs kind of hurt. That’s the magic of it.
Learning how to start a boondoggle is actually the hardest part of the entire process. Once you get those first two or three stitches locked in, your muscle memory takes over. It’s like riding a bike, except you’re making a neon square out of toxic-smelling PVC.
The Materials You Actually Need (Don't Overcomplicate It)
You don't need a kit. Most of those "starter sets" you see at big-box craft stores are overpriced and come with cheap, thin lace that snaps when you try to tighten a stitch.
Go to a dedicated craft site or a local shop and look for Rexlace or Pepperell branding. These are the industry standards for plastic lacing. You want "flat" lacing, usually 3/32 of an inch wide. It’s durable. It has that specific gloss. Most importantly, it holds a knot without slipping.
You’ll need two strands of different colors. Pick high-contrast colors like neon green and black or navy and white. If you pick two dark colors, you're going to lose your mind trying to see where the "under-over" goes when you're working in dim light. Trust me on this. Grab a pair of sharp scissors and a cheap metal keychain ring. Some people use a "swivel hook," which is fancy but totally unnecessary for your first try.
How to Start a Boondoggle: The Square Stitch Foundation
Most people fail because they try to hold the strands in the air. Don't do that.
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Find the middle of your two strands. Lay one horizontally on your index finger and the other vertically over it, forming a cross. You’re basically making a plus sign. Use your thumb to pin the center point down against your finger.
Now, take the top vertical strand and fold it down over the horizontal one to create a small loop. Take the bottom vertical strand and fold it up to create a second loop. You should now have two loops sitting parallel to each other. This is the "bridge."
Next comes the weaving. Take the left horizontal strand. Pass it over the first loop and under the second loop. Repeat this with the right horizontal strand: go over the first loop (the one closest to it) and under the second.
Gently slide the whole mess off your finger.
Grab all four ends. Pull. This is the moment of truth. If you did it right, a small, flat square appears in the center. If it looks like a pile of spaghetti, you missed the "over-under" rhythm. Undo it and try again. The square stitch is the "Hello World" of boondoggle. Everything else—the barrel stitch, the butterfly, the wall—builds on this one specific movement.
Why Your First Stitch Usually Sucks
It’s almost always a tension issue.
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Beginners tend to pull one strand way harder than the others. This warps the square. You want "even" tension. Think of it like tightening the lug nuts on a car tire; you do a little bit on each side until it’s snug. If you pull too hard, the plastic stretches and turns white. That’s permanent damage. You can’t "un-stretch" PVC.
Another common mistake? Losing track of which strand is which. This is why the two-color rule is mandatory for beginners. If you use two strands of the same blue, you will get lost by the fourth stitch. Guaranteed.
Beyond the Square: Getting Fancy with the Circle Stitch
Once you’ve mastered the square, you’re going to get bored. It happens fast.
The "Circle" or "Spiral" stitch is the natural next step. It’s actually the exact same process as the square stitch, with one tiny tweak: instead of folding your loops straight across, you fold them diagonally.
Instead of the top strand going straight down, you angle it toward the corner. When you tighten it, the layers start to shift slightly. Over ten or twenty stitches, the lacing begins to twist. It creates this DNA-helix look that feels way more "pro" than it actually is.
The Cultural History of the Lanyard
It’s actually kind of fascinating where this stuff came from. The word "boondoggle" actually has a history in the Boy Scouts of America. Back in the late 1920s, a scoutmaster named Robert Link coined the term to describe the braided leather tassels scouts wore.
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During the Great Depression, the term took on a negative political meaning. It became shorthand for "wasteful government projects" because people saw WPA workers making crafts or doing seemingly useless tasks. But in the world of summer camps, the boondoggle remained a badge of honor. It was a way to stay quiet during "rest hour." It was something you traded with friends.
In France, they call it Scoubidou, named after a 1958 song by Sacha Distel. It became a massive craze there in the sixties, decades before it hit the US suburbs in a big way. Different names, same plastic.
Managing Your Ends and Finishing the Project
Eventually, you’re going to run out of lace or decide the keychain is long enough. You can't just leave the ends hanging.
The "Old School" way to finish a boondoggle is to trim the ends to about half an inch and then—with extreme caution—use a lighter to melt the tips. You press the molten plastic down with the flat side of the scissors to "weld" the stitch shut.
Warning: This smells terrible. It’s also definitely releasing some fumes you probably shouldn't be huffing.
If you want a safer, cleaner look, use a "super tuck." You take each of the four ends and weave them back down through the previous two layers of stitches. Use a pair of needle-nose pliers to pull them through if the tension is tight. Once they’re tucked, snip the excess flush with the side of the lanyard. It looks seamless. It won't come undone, even if it’s jingling around in your pocket for the next three years.
Real-World Tips for Mastering the Craft
- Warm your lace: if you're working in a cold room, the plastic gets stiff. Sit on your lace strands for a few minutes or keep them in your pocket. Warm lace is much more pliable and easier to tighten.
- The "Paperclip Hack": If you’re struggling to keep the first stitch in place, use a small binder clip or paperclip to hold the center of the cross against your keychain ring. It acts like a third hand.
- Buy in bulk: Those small 10-yard packs at the store disappear in about two projects. If you're serious, buy the 100-yard spools. It’s much cheaper per foot.
- Watch the twist: If you’re doing a square stitch and it starts to look lopsided, you’ve accidentally started a circle stitch. Check your loop alignment.
Actionable Next Steps
To actually get started today, don't just read about it.
- Order your lace: Get two 100-yard spools of Rexlace in contrasting colors.
- Cut your strands: Start with two 3-foot strands. This is manageable. Anything longer will get tangled while you're learning.
- Find a "starter" hook: Use a standard split-key ring. Loop your strands through the ring before you make that first "plus sign" cross. This ensures your project is actually attached to something useful from the start.
- Commit to ten stitches: The first three will look like garbage. Keep going. By stitch ten, the rhythm will click.
Once you have the square and circle down, look up the "Cobra" weave or the "Maize" stitch. The geometry gets significantly more complex, but the physics of the plastic remains the same. It's all about tension, friction, and way too much neon green.