First Person
Fashion and Handknitting: My Two Worlds
For as long as I can remember, I’ve lived in two parallel knitting universes: one defined by fashion weeks, tech packs, and seamless machines; the other by tangled skeins, YouTube tutorials, and the gentle rhythm of needles clicking in my lap.
My career has swung between the high-paced world of fashion knitwear and the intimate, tactile culture of hand knitting. At first, I treated them like two separate career choices: one for the runway, one for the couch. But over time, I started to notice threads connecting them—and tension in the places they refuse to overlap.
When I graduated from RISD (Rhode Island School of Design) in 2010 I saw two opposite knitting paths before me—fashion and handknitting—without much overlap.
The fashion world was dominated by Lady Gaga and runway show pieces for the Met Gala. The handknitting world couldn’t feel more distant. It was all “rural Irish countryside horse woman.” I certainly did not see myself in that second category so I went toward fashion.
My journey into fashion knitwear began with structured collections, high-pressure deadlines, and the thrill of translating ideas into digital knit programming. Working with industrial machines like Shima Seiki, I learned to think in technically possible solutions—designing silhouettes and stitch patterns that could be sampled and produced at scale.
I worked at DEGEN but also for brands like Ralph Lauren and Converse and it was always about the next season which was typically one or two years away.
It’s a world that runs on speed, precision, and seasonal shifts. You’re always anticipating trends that haven’t happened yet. It’s exciting, but also demanding—leaving little time to dwell in the slowness. Margin concerns dominated conversations, and sometimes it felt like politicking was the real job.
Sometimes, I found myself missing the yarn of it all—the smell of wool, the community of people who make stuff with their own hands, the small magic of shaping something from a string to a thing.
Hand knitting brought me back to myself. It reminded me why I fell in love with textiles in the first place, but also there was still a lot of space for differing views on aesthetics.
While designers like Stephen West introduced more play into the handknitting world, other patterns available seemed to follow trends and therefore were not very different. The early 2010s was about fades, then brioche, etc.
And the designers out there often had one technique that they were known for. Some designers have released a hundred yoke sweater patterns. That was something that did not interest me.
I always want to make different things: things that stretch my skills, feel new, and hopefully are fun to knit.
There’s an intimacy to hand knitting that the fashion world can’t replicate. It’s tactile, emotional, meditative, and punk rock. It’s deeply community driven.
What struck me most was the value system: time, intention, and process matter. Interestingly, there still does exist the similarity in rush to “drop the next thing.”
The designers able to support themselves with their craft often drop 1 or more patterns a month. It’s necessary to keep people purchasing. It’s hard to live off of $5 pattern downloads so designers crank up the marketing, just like in fashion, and instill FOMO to try to sell their patterns.
I often feel like a translator between these two worlds. The fashion industry can look at hand knitting and see it as quaint or unscalable. Meanwhile, hand knitters can look at fashion and see it as impersonal or disconnected from craft.
But both assumptions miss the nuance. Both industries move too fast.
There are moments of synergy: fashion brands collaborating with fiber artists; designers incorporating hand-knit details into machine-knit garments; capsule collections with a handmade ethos. And then there’s the broader shift toward slow fashion and sustainability, where hand knitting has something profound to teach.
Still, they don’t always play nice. Fashion wants efficiency; hand knitting demands patience. Fashion relies on digital tools; hand knitting thrives in analog joy. Bridging them requires more than technical skill—it requires empathy for both timelines and mindsets.
Straddling these two knitting worlds has shaped not only my work but also how I see creativity. From fashion, I’ve learned how to think structurally, conceptually, and commercially. From hand knitting, I’ve learned to value softness—but also autonomy. I can knit whatever I want for myself in whatever color I want to knit it in. If you want it in a different color, I’d love for you to do that with my pattern.
Maybe the real magic happens not when the two worlds perfectly align, but when they rub up against each other—friction creating warmth.
Knitting, whether by machine or by hand, is a language. And I feel lucky to be bilingual.
There are days I crave the adrenaline of a fashion show sample deadline, and days I just want to swatch while watching Dimension 20 (my favorite Dungeons and Dragons show). I no longer see these urges as conflicting—they’re just different expressions of the same instinct: to make, to connect, to find meaning.
Whether I’m drafting a digital jacquard or casting on a shawl with a beloved skein from a yarn I bought at NY Sheep and Wool, I’m still guided by the same idea: I wanna make what I wanna make so I’m gonna.
Come Shop With Us
I love that. Knitting brings us back to self.
So interesting. Yes, I agree that knitting patterns are also mostly trend driven. Personally, I have an overdose of the formula fingering + ksh . My favourite designer ( Susanne Muller) isn’t trend driven and doesn’t rely on that ubiquitous mix. But $5 patterns? Europe, maybe but not always. And a lot of the north American designers charge 10 – 15.
Well said, indeed! But I think it should be pointed out that repetitive yoke and raglan designs are where we knitters are right now. We are busy people . Knitting is already a slow activity. A complex yoke for a few nights of satisfying concentration followed by many hours of multitasking TV knitting is a good bang for our buck these days. Plus there are variations in how those raglans and yokes are created and a lot can still be learned there. Nevertheless the intersection between fashion and home knitting is very interesting and I’ll bet there are a few tips from the fashion knitting world that can be used in handknitting as well.
It seems to me that the “repetitive yoke and raglan designs” are where knitters were yesterday but not today. I am grateful for the more current and interesting designs available. If we stick with traditional designs such as that, we get typecast as fuddy grandmothers knitting in our rockers, for good reason. I want my design sense to be as challenged as my technical abilities are, and grow and change.
Understanding that the difference in the 2 worlds and proprietary nature of designs, would love to see more high fashion patterns ( at any price) available for home knitters. If they’re out there, have not found outside of vintage
I REALLY miss Vogue Knitting Magazine:(
This was a great way for me to find challenging and sometimes edgy patterns but in a reasonable volume to peruse as well as review the pattern itself. Online searching can be a black hole for me.
What a great article! I am 78. I have hand knit since I was 5. I started machine knitting as well in the 80’s. What freedom I have to create!
Great article. I really enjoyed your discussion of the opposite tugs on your creative brain. Resolving those by realizing that they don’t cancel each other, but rather complement took me some time to work out when I was younger. My fiber brain and my physicist brain are sisters now. It’s good.
Yes, my physician brain and fiber brain are also one. I have often said that knitting is very mathematical and the needles keep the stitch size regular…makes my brain happy:)
Love this article, thought provoking!
I loved this essay. I agree about Stephen West and also feel like Catherine Lowe also pushes back hard against the pressure to chase the next new thing, both stylistically and with her couture techniques. I love both of their style ethos in very different ways.
Wow, what a great article! And I love the overlap area of your two lives (and your fashion knitwear is so fun!).
I think it is exciting to see new perspectives in knitting. I have seen some of the DEGEN patterns and think they are so fun. They are patterns I could see myself knitting for my granddaughters.
Analog joy
Love this phrase! Maybe for the new MDK shop?
and Unkempt joy
Because today’s NYT Spelling Bee
Thank you, Lindsay, for bringing so much imagination and humor to the world of knitting! Such a delight after so much sameness!
Next Field Guide?
Hear, hear!
Never having been associated with the fashion world I found your compaisons fascinating. Thank you for the insights.
wonderful essay-I love how you articulated your two worlds and how they synthesized for you.
Also- it’s criminal how low many handknitting patterns are priced. Hot take but true.
DEGEN is one of the most satisfying, validating, design options/sources I have experienced in an age. It’s like a fault line, a scarp – that perfect spot where my love of serious couture meets boho. Thank you so much!
I love your mantra. I hope it is ok that I make it mine. It has governed my big decisions in my life and knitting.
I knit your Hole sweater with modifications- I left off the holes on sleeves. My daughter was surprised I chose to knit it ( because I’m a person old enough to be a grandmother) but then sent me a photo of a poisonous octopus that has cobalt blue circles when provoked and said make it like this octopus! So I did – I just this morning pulled it out and re folded it and thought can / will I ever wear this? YEA I think I will – it was so much fun to make. Thank you!
Such an interesting and well written article. But am I the only knitter who finds the images of seemingly miserable and frighteningly thin models to be sad? For so many years many of us have begged for more realistic bodies projected to us viewers, especially to the millions of girls and young women who form personal goals from this culture, and to the self-esteem of the majority of all ages who do not resemble, even a little, these “ideal” bodies. The answer is often that “thin, grim models sell clothes.” IMHO, it’s an endless, sad circle.
Amen to that
Amen to that
The patterns are charming.