Why knitting matters
Whether you knit for joy, for the quiet soothing of stitches, or to forget that the world out there is on fire, it matters. Here's why.
There are so many reasons why we knit, crochet, stitch and sew.
Some of us do it because we love textiles and fiber, and the feeling of yarn running through our fingers is like a deep breath of hope.
Some of us do it because we like making clothes for ourselves, whether it’s a cozy, cabled wool sweater to wear in the winter, or a filmy tank top knit from linen and cotton in the summer.
Some of us knit in the way Michelle Obama knits: to soothe an active brain and come back to a quiet feeling of calm.
And yet others of us knit and crochet because it’s a radical thing, in this world of fast fashion and fast food and low prices and gig work, to say I am going to make this by hand. I am going to make it by hand simply because I can, and I love taking the time to do so. This is a radical, beautiful thing, especially in a world that commodifies our attention.
To use our attention and our hands in a way that brings us joy matters, and it matters deeply.
Even if you don’t know why you knit or crochet or sew or embroider, even if you make things by hand for all of the reasons I mentioned, for none of the reasons I mentioned, or for things I haven’t even thought of … making things by hand is a radical statement.
I was reading, recently, that we are experiencing as much social change, and as rapidly, as people did in the Industrial Revolution when the production of goods moved from homes to factories and which ushered in capitalism the way we currently know it—where capital is concentrated in just a few hands and most of us sell our labor. I learned that we’re currently in the fourth Industrial Revolution where technology, robotics, and artificial intelligence is expanding and growing exponentially, rather than at the linear pace we typically experience change.
The magnitude is dizzying. It took (just) 20 years for telephones to go from those very first clunky land-line cordless phones (do you remember how you couldn’t go too far away from the base or the reception would get spotty?) and long-distance charges (forget international, so expensive), to something that fits in my pocket and where I can call friends in England as easily as I can call the corner deli to order a sandwich.
The pandemic ushered in even faster change—changes I am still adjusting to. Remote work (that thing I insisted was possible, way back in 2004) became not only possible but creates more value, in what felt like overnight in 2020. (Managers and employees have different views on “productivity” and if you’re a business geek like me, this article is a good read.)
I have a feeling that the pace of change is going to keep feeling really, really fast. This is where I think progressives and people on the far right of the political spectrum have something in common: we both feel the accelerating pace of social change and are reacting to it. It’s just that our reactions are very, very different.1
And this is why knitting matters.
It’s not about what we knit, or why we crochet, or whether we are wearing what we’ve made. It matters that we sit and take time—precious, valuable, our one wild and precious life—to slowly and deliberately make something by hand. Something we could buy, or speed through, or otherwise consume. But we don’t. We wind a skein of yarn into a ball. We run the fiber through our fingers, and with needle or hook, we start making stitch after stitch, creating our own fabric. We turn those stitches into something useful or beautiful that can have a good, long life in our wardrobes or our homes.
When you or I knit, crochet, embroider or stitch, we are doing something that is radically counter-culture and deeply nourishing. It’s a statement about what we value. It’s slowing down and knowing that life is right here, now, in these stitches.
The pleasure of tiny stitches in the summer
My usual go-to summer knitting is a sock project. I love how portable socks are, especially during summers when my boy was smaller and we were often on-the-go with playdates, time spent at swimming pools, and visits with the grandparents. Since the pandemic and now that my boy is a teen (and oh, the particular loneliness of having a teenager!), I am not out-and-about as often, and I find myself wanting to make summer knitwear: cotton or linen tops, summer-weight tanks.
For the second summer in a row, I am knitting with a few summer yarn blends: a linen-silk, a wool and cotton, and an alpaca-linen-silk. I’m learning how to increase colorfastness on blended plant and animal fibers, making my own garments to test how they wash and wear, and just generally swatching to see how I like things.
How about you: Are you interested to explore knitting with summer-weight fibers?
Studio goings on
For the last few months, I’ve been experimenting with sending a separate Friday newsletter that shares only what’s in my shop (and I’ve been doing a shop update in tandem with this).
Welp, as it turns out, I actually prefer sharing various parts of my life all together: my writing, the things I make for myself, and the yarn and kits that you can buy.
All of my work is connected—and realizing this has been a bit of a surprise to me. I thought my business road was leading toward a clearer, crisper marketing voice. But, it turns out I’m actually inviting you into a bigger story.
I am dyeing yarn and making kits, but not just to dye yarn. I am inviting you to live in your progressive values along with me. I am inviting you to make something beautiful, by hand, simply because we enjoy doing so. This is a revolutionary act in a world that doesn’t value our time, and especially seeks to extract the time and labor of people it pushes to the margins.
I never thought of myself as a community person. I’m the one who likes to sit at the edge of the group, observing. But, increasingly, I realize there’s all of you here.
It feels really good when you find your people, and I’m pretty excited, behind-the-scenes, thinking about how I can connect you with the other people here. Because we have a lot in common, and it’s pretty darn wonderful when we don’t have to tip-toe around values, or code switch, or being anything less than our full selves.
So, I’m back to one newsletter a week, at least for now, combining all the elements of my work: writing, thinking, dyeing yarn, and making kits.
In the shop, this week, I have a beautiful array of Harvest Sport yarn for you to consider adding to your stash or to your needles or hook.
This yarn is part of a larger story, too. Designers like Jacqueline Cieslak and Tina Tse have created sweater patterns especially for my yarn, Ainur Berkimbayeva has created a hat pattern for it, Hunter Hammersen has licensed a hat pattern for me to give away free with any purchase of Harvest Sport, and I have created a bundle of my top 30 patterns for Harvest Sport (CW: most links to go to Ravelry.)
I want you to try a single skein of Harvest Sport and knit yourself a beautiful hat. I’d love for you to pick out two skeins and knit yourself a beautiful shawl. I’d love to dye a sweater’s worth of yarn for you in any of my Wardrobe Essential colorways and for you to knit the earth-friendly, values-filled, sweater of your dreams.
A well wish for today
No matter how your Sunday (and week) unfolds, I hope you have some quiet moments to think about how the world is changing and how you are holding fast to the things that matter. Quiet stitches, a deep breath, a moment seeing something beautiful in nature, a precious handmade thing that you use every day. Your knitting, crocheting, and stitching matter.
This is a great time to remind you that, although I am a white woman and white woman are notoriously unreliable (and sometimes downright awful) when it comes to being in solidarity with other marginalized folks, you should know that this is a firmly and joyfully liberal, progressive, intersectional space. Which means it is also a no-Trump area. If you find yourself wondering why?, I’m not your people. 🔵 If you find yourself breathing a sigh of relief at this, and like being in spaces where we say the quiet thing out loud, welcome. You’re going to like it here.
What a treat to see that you linked to a piece I wrote while I was working at Interweave about Michelle Obama's book and her knitting! Thanks for the flashback, and for your thoughtful writing.
i’ve gone back to crocheting again and even though i’ve been a beginner for ages, this time i’m determined to stick with it and improve. It’s been so relaxing to get away from my phone and finishing a project gives me a sense of pride i couldn’t get without putting in hard work. you’re so right!! it’s so important that we value craftsmanship and slowing down. i really enjoyed reading this <33