Recently a dear friend of mine gave me a giant red bag filled with yarn, knitting needles, crochet hooks and other notions. His neighbour’s mother had just passed away and the neighbour didn’t know what to do with it until my friend (lovingly, of course) remembered the blanket I crocheted for him. So he took the red bag and gifted it to me.
The acts of crochet and knitting are called fibre (or textile) arts. The existence of knitted textiles dates back as far as the Crusades. Crochet and knitting are enjoying a renaissance today and many of those contributing to that renaissance may not be whom you would expect.
The Generation Z classification (born between 1997 and 2012) are “the first generation to grow up with the internet as a part of daily life,” according to Good Housekeeping’s essay on generational characteristics. Gen Z lives life “extremely online.”
And believe it or not, my social media feeds are chock-full of Gen Z crochet posts.
Alexandria Masse is a 24-year-old from Windsor, ON with 228,000 followers on Instagram. She creates intricate and beautiful yet unconventional wearable (and mountable) crochet art, some of which has been worn by celebrated rappers and singers such as Melanie Martinez.
Then there’s Calvin Lee, who crochets colourful hexagonol cardigans while riding NYC subways,. And Henri Purnell, a young German lad with over 300,000 YouTube followers. He crochets anything he can think of - a bouquet of flowers, interlocking ring pillows, distressed sweaters, you name them.
I put my knitting needles down the year before COVID, feeling the need to venture into something new after my daughters grew out of cute sweaters with dragon scales.
Since then, I have crocheted blankets, sweaters, F-bombs, and amigurumi - small stuffed crocheted (or knitted) animals and whimsical creatures.
Back to that tote bag. You would think I would be excited to receive a hand-me-down like that from my friend. But I had just divested myself through Facebook’s Buy Nothing of ancient (30 years old) patterns, a copious amount of knitting needles and enough wool to yarn-bomb Brock’s Monument.
However, I started sorting through the red tote and discovered some things about the previous owner, and ultimately, about myself as well.
Okay, the bag is kind of cute. My oldest daughter has been crocheting for a few years and could use the tote to bring her WIP (work in progress) on the bus to while away the time it takes for her to get to her job.
I found a few things to keep for myself - I can always use stitch holders and crochet hooks. The rest I divided into separate crochet and knitting piles and, again, gave away on Buy Nothing.
However, there were some items that I had never seen before - one was longer than the average crochet hook but not as long as a knitting needle, and it had an unusual hooked end. Another had elastic around one end - to help with grip, perhaps?
I belong to social media groups like Stitchers Gone Wild and Not Your Grandma’s Crochet where members often post pictures asking the community to help them identify a certain tool-of-the-trade they got from an estate sale, thrift store or like me, a neighbour's mom.
But in this red bag I discovered more than an unusual hook. I found a pattern titled Red Hat Society Boa-Style Scarf requiring red and purple yarn, of course.
That gave me some insight into the previous owner of this bag. According to their web site, The Red Hat Society encourages women throughout the world to “get the most out of life,” via “fun, friendship, freedom, fitness and the fulfillment of lifelong dreams.”
My neighbour’s mom must have been a fun person.
But then I found a pattern for a lace-edged chemo cap. The creator of said cap had made some notations on the pattern, as one does. I sure hope the wearer of the chemo cap is also sporting a purple and red scarf.
What are people going to think when they look into the detritus of my crochet bins? A lot less to sort through now, though my yarn and notion collection seems to multiply with each trip to Michaels or visit to my shopping cart on ravelry.com.
One thing I keep hanging onto are the arms and legs of a sock monkey. Daughters number one and two each received their completed sock monkeys, knitted over a season of skiing in Ellicottville. But for some reason, the sock monkey intended for daughter number three remains unfinished.
I also have purple mohair that I refuse to part with - but only just used after 25 years to decorate the top of crocheted leg warmers for cold walks in the Commons.
I realize I learned a lot about myself while unpacking the red tote bag and divesting myself of excess yarn.
It’s okay to make mistakes - frogging, the act of unravelling your work to fix a missed stitch - is therapeutic.
But it’s also okay to live with your mistakes. Trust me, a single crochet instead of a half double crochet in the middle of your blanket will be noticed by no-one but you.
Experiment. You never know until you try.
Don’t think you’re capable of crocheting a full length cardi? Find a pattern with an accompanying YouTube video and you’re golden.
Save the good stuff and discard, recycle or donate the rest. That monkey still has a chance.
Finally, it’s never too late to try something new. Join the Get Hooked Crochet Club or Knit-a-bit, both at the Niagara-on-the-Lake Public Library, to learn basic techniques, or to just connect with like-minded yarn-art enthusiasts.
The red tote bag is now with my daughter, the hooks, needles and notions are shared with the Buy Nothing community, and I have to go. My WIP is calling me.