Knitting is no longer just for grandmothers stitching ugly sweaters; instead, the knitter can be an artist, one that creates wild “cozies” for army tanks and parking meters. For many of these young, unconventional knitters, their fiery passion for sticks and strings is fueled by recession.
Juniors Carolyn Minott, 21, a sculpture major, and Marina Rose, 20, a philosophy major, are fiber artists who have traded in a weekly pay check for a pair of knitting needles. With a surplus of yarn and crafting experience, they went into business selling unique hats as “Wicked Sheep.”
“It was an easy legal way to make money. And those are hard to come by at Purchase,” said Minott. She has applied to four different jobs since the start of the semester four weeks ago. Unfortunately, she has had no responses.
Rose has also had difficulty finding a job, but due to her conflicting morals rather than the lack of response. She made a promise to herself that she would not work at an establishment if she would be peddling items that weren’t fair trade or were tested on animals. She had little luck finding a job that met those criteria.
“It’s impossible to find a job based strictly on being a human who has morals,” Rose said. “The more I looked the more I didn’t feel okay doing anything but [selling] something I could make myself,” she said.
Rose and Minott starting selling their wildly colored hats for $15through word of mouth around the Purchase campus. Eventually, they also put ready-made hats up for sale in the Food Co-op. According to them both, they have sold about 30 hats so far, and it’s the most rewarding job they’ve had.
“The period in which I was making things from scratch was more satisfying than any job I ever worked or any salary I’ve been able to acquire.” Rose said.
Both Minott and Rose are also infatuated with “guerilla knitting” or “yarn bombing,” which is when knitters take to the streets and knit cozies for objects in the environment. Groups like “Knitta Please” organize unconventional knitters to warm up parking meters, stop signs, and even army tanks. Originally from Houston, in 2009, the organization took to the streets of New York City to knit cozies for 69 parking meters.
“The simple juxtaposition of this woven material placed within an urban environment has inspired a new generation of knitters who no longer view function as the sole purpose for knitting,” said Magda Sayeg, founder of Knitta Please, on the group’s website.
To Rose, the concept of non-functional knitting has broadened the horizons for many creative individuals interested in the fiber arts.
“What can you knit? Well you can knit a blanket, or you can knit a tank,” she said.
Minott has also adopted this philosophy and used her skills as a fiber artist into her own artwork, like incorporating a knitting element into a new sculpture project of a body. To her, fiber arts are becoming less of a craft and more of a fine art.
Even the visual arts program at Purchase is incorporating fiber arts into its program. A fiber arts colloquium, taught by graduate student Amanda Gale, is teaching Purchase artists knitting, crocheting, and hand sewing. According to Minott, who is taking the class, the 16 spaces for it filled rather quickly, the students are males and females, and their skills vary from never holding a needle to being experienced fiber artists.
“I think fibers are becoming more culturally accessed by everyone. Not just the artist or the grandma. It’s widening,” Minott