Less AARP, more MTV
Erika Gadomski gets all sorts of visitors at her store in Lakewood.
Erika Gadomski, owner of River Colors Studio in Lakewood — a newly expanded yarn and knitting boutique full of brightly colored yarns and fabrics — may not have witnessed knitting-related hookups at her store, but she has observed an increased male turnout.
“I would say that it’s definitely developed. It’s become more accepted, and people a lot of times are trying to legitimize it by talking about the fact that originally knitting was done for people in the army,” Gadomski says. “The bottom line is it’s very therapeutic, no matter who does it. There shouldn’t be a gender association.”
Although men still make up a relatively small percentage of her customers, Gadomski says the demand for a store like River Colors was felt immediately when the first one opened in April of 2004. “We were in a much smaller location and outgrew it very quickly,” she says. Her store’s workshops attract clusters of aspiring knitters of all ages and both sexes.
“I’d say we get everyone,” says Gadomski, as two of her patrons discuss which types of knitting needles are allowed on airplanes. “We have a good smattering of ages. We do specialized classes, but we’re teaching a lot of beginners. People just really want to learn the basics.”
A yarn-covered mannequin hangs from the ceiling of the studio.
Cartwright-Jones says a lot of students have enrolled in her class not only to learn the basics of knitting but also because few other classes at Kent State yield tangible and enjoyable results.
“You can make something that is uniquely yours,” she says. “In the fall semester, I think most of the students ended up giving away every project that came out decently as a Christmas gift. Because you can’t just hand somebody your French paper (and say), ‘Look, I got an A on my French vocabulary, isn’t that a nice stocking stuffer?’”
Not only is knitting your own apparel a great way to set yourself apart from the Abercrombie crowd, it’s way cheaper than having someone else do it. “Hand-knitting is not something you can make a living at,” Okey says. “It’s time-consuming, and the whole Wal-Martization of our culture makes people think that $20 is a reasonable price for a sweater when, in fact, it’s somewhere like $3,400 worth of work.” Because people aren’t likely to shell out that much for a sweater, the real money is found in designing patterns and kits.
“I used to knit pattern sweaters,” Cartwright-Jones says. “I enjoyed it. It was a great way to stay at home and keep my kids fed, but somewhere around the 590th sweater, I was just ready to hang it up and move on to other things.”
Knitting vs. crocheting
A patron of the River Colors Studio works on a project.
Although Cartwright-Jones admits she burnt herself out on knitting, she is still encouraging dozens of fashion students to appreciate the joys of machine knitting every semester. And although machine knitting is certainly the more efficient way of making your own product — “Students absolutely could not complete a project in one semester hand-knitting,” she says — knitting and crocheting by hand can help relax you after a stressful day.
“I just like the repetitive movement,” says Bartholet, who wasn’t sure if he was even going to wear the scarf he was currently crocheting. “It’s really relaxing. I’m a spatial learner anyway, so it’s nice just having something to occupy my hands because I’m always fidgeting.”
Speaking of fidgeting, Cartwright-Jones even suggests knitting and needlework as a solution to attention deficit disorder. She taught a child with ADD to cross-stitch, and it helped focus him. “It was amazing,” she says. “The child had driven everyone nuts for years, and all of a sudden with the cross-stitch pattern was an angel to be around because he could just put all that fidget into cross-stitching.”
According to Vogue Knitting’s Scott, the future of knitting lies in the fidgety hands of children just like the boy Cartwright-Jones taught. “Having young people knit is key,” Scott says. “They’re the ones who will be continuing this craft. Hopefully they’ll pass it on to their generation. That’s what we didn’t have back in the ’80s.”
Eight-year-old Jacob Corder of Lakewood knits with his sister and their mother at Gadomski's River Colors Studio.
One surefire way to keep more youth actively involved and interested in knitting is if its public image is less AARP and more MTV. “I have a friend who goes to knitting circles once a month,” says Carol Volpe, a junior fashion design major in Cartwright-Jones’ knitting class. “And you would think it’s a bunch of old ladies getting together, but it’s young people.”
Bartholet, however, is happy to carry his own grandmother’s torch. “My grandma has crocheted and knitted for me all the time I’ve known her, so I have, like, afghans and stuff that she’s made me,” he says. “I actually crocheted with her over (winter) break, and my mom’s like, ‘Stop crocheting with your grandma!’ I guess it’s a sense of accomplishment, kind of, but I don’t know. I just enjoy doing it.”
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