How I Went from Serial Online Shopper to Crochet Enthusiast

From a young age, I’ve always held a deep appreciation for well-made things. Both sets of my grandparents were well-travelled and brought back a treasure trove of trinkets from their adventures. From exquisite Swiss music boxes to beautifully-carved fridge magnets, every object was like a little window into another world for my tiny brain. As an adult — with a brain barely bigger and only slightly less full of wonder — this has translated into a borderline obsession with craftsmanship in everything from clothes to kitchen knives, but never into making things myself. I’ve always considered myself quite clumsy, perfectly content to admire the work of others from afar; I’ll quite happily leave the hard stuff to the experts while I load up my online shopping trolley with goodies.
Some yarn, a crochet hook and a crochet work in progress

Goodbye retail therapy — hello calming crochet!

Then — an all-too-familiar refrain incoming — the pandemic hit. While I was using a lot of my spare time indulging in my usual retail therapy, my partner decided they would finally fulfil their childhood desire to learn crochet. Over the last couple of years, I’ve watched with no small sense of awe as they’ve transformed from a complete beginner to a proficient and prolific purveyor of purls. They recently remarked to me that crochet was so simple, that even I could pick it up in a couple of weeks. While I initially dismissed the notion on account of my two left hands, the idea quickly germinated: Yeah! Why shouldn’t I be able to do it? I’ll be my own atelier, slinging cardigans like nobody’s business!

It takes two, baby

If you’ve ever been in a similar boat, you might be aware of the bewildering array of hooks, yarn blends and gauges on offer in even the smallest knitting shop. Having so much choice is brilliant for versatility, but can be a bit overwhelming for beginners — it certainly was for me!

Fortunately, my partner was having none of it, and took the choice out of my hands, selecting a beginner-friendly yarn in my favourite colour for me to get started with. Having someone who knows their stuff on hand is a huge advantage — who’d have thought?

This leads me to my first piece of advice: whether you’re learning from an expert or taking on a new hobby with a friend or partner, having someone to share the journey with is paramount to pushing you out of your comfort zone and helping you get started.

Trust in the process

With a good-quality yarn and hook in hand, it was time to get down to the business of actually doing something. Step one: chaining. The building blocks of any crochet project, chains are usually the first thing any budding crocheter will attempt. Not only are they fundamentally useful, but they’re also brilliant practice to get a feel for the rhythm of hooking and pulling your yarn in and over itself. Naturally, given their level of practice at this point, chains fly out of my partner’s hook as if by magic, transforming raw yarn into the beginnings of a blanket, a jumper, a hat — anything.

Of course, it’s hard to visualise the end result when all you’re holding is a hook and a length of yarn. While my partner was flying through their skein with the practised hands of a master, I was struggling to get my loops to stay where I wanted them while creating their siblings — and why weren’t they all the same size?! This, I’m told, is extremely common for newcomers while you try and find a comfortable cadence and tension, and that it will all come out alright in the end — again, having someone who can help spot these issues when you’re just starting out is a lifesaver that I can’t recommend highly enough.

It’s a rare first-hand glimpse into the amount of work and craft that goes into things we often take for granted. While many pieces of clothing and soft furnishings can be mass-produced, aided by machines and sometimes questionable labour practices, crochet is something that can only be done by hand. It’s a brilliant way to put things into perspective — that every time I’ve spotted a crocheted bag, top or hat out and about, someone, somewhere had used these very same techniques to bring that item into the world.

Practice makes…progress

After squeezing bits and pieces of practice in where I can, I start to get the hang of chaining without really thinking about it — isn’t muscle memory brilliant? As an added bonus, I’ve swapped most of my idle internet browsing time in the evenings for practising crochet (which has left me more than a little smug, I must admit).

But chains alone won’t get me very far — time to start connecting them together! I watch intently as my partner shows me how to link the lovely little loops called double crochets…or, wait…are they singles? Much like the English language, the United States and the United Kingdom have helpfully decided to forge their own terminologies for crochet terms, which different patterns use interchangeably. Whichever set of terms you prefer, it’s a good idea to stick with them — it’s already a lot to learn, so don’t make it harder on yourself!

Fortunately, the pattern I’m attempting — the ever-useful granny square — doesn’t require me to know the intricacies of this language; much like trying to communicate through hand gestures, I can simply get by with my hands. Though it feels like an eternity, I quickly find myself getting into a rhythm once again, my hook and fingers working in tandem to repeat these same little loops over and over. And look! They’re starting to get a bit consistent almost! It’s kind of becoming a square-ish item! I’m a craftsman!

Then I have to change colours, and everything goes out of the window. Shaken from my flow state, I’m back to painstakingly forming each loop, grimacing at their inconsistent sizes. Off we go again.

Accept the imperfections — and learn to love them

To help smooth out the bumps a bit, I’ve found it helpful to remind myself of qualities I admire in the things I like: the patched holes in a favourite pair of jeans; the paint splashes on a well-loved jacket. Wabi-sabi, the Japanese worldview that cherishes simplicity, imperfections and incompleteness, is also a brilliant touchstone. Flaws and blemishes imbue these simple garments with life and personality, so why should I be annoyed with the odd wonky stitch?

It’s also worth remembering that no machine, no matter how advanced, could do what I’m doing right now. Once I accept that my work will never be perfect, it gets a lot easier. My partner was right; even I can do this.

Try it — you might like it!

If your schedule allows it, I definitely recommend trying to fit bits of crocheting into your daily routine: while you’re waiting for dinner to cook, during short breaks at work, or even just while watching TV. You might not make much progress, but it doesn’t matter! It’s fun, and quite relaxing once you’ve got the hang of these simple stitches. I’m only a week or so into my journey, but I can already feel the benefits of crafting on my stress levels and mood — instead of being a passive observer and consumer of things, creating something myself, even something simple, fills me with confidence, pride and a sense of achievement.

I’ve also found myself studying the things I like more closely, trying to decipher how they were made. I’m taken right back to my grandparents’ house, watching the pins on the cylinder of a music box and marvelling at the intricacy and precision of the mechanism. While you may not be an intricate and precise mechanism yourself — I’m certainly anything but — you can still make time to make something that you can be proud of.