Lately, granny squares have been popping up in unexpected places.
Remember granny squares? I watched my mother work her crochet hook like a magic wand when I was a little kid in the 70s. The sight of her yarn morphing into squares, which were then stitched together to become handbags and blankets is a core memory for me. So is the click-click of her knitting needles. As well as the whir of her sewing machine. As I grew into a teen, I rejected all these things, because I was determined to be more contemporary, not wanting to continue these “old lady” hobbies.
I knew something was happening a few years ago when I took my children to the local pool. A teenager was working at the counter, checking that we had our pool passes and then waving us in. I remember slowly recognizing what I saw in her hands: a tangle of pink yarn, and the familiar flash of a metal crochet hook as it looped and dipped in and out, making a miraculous lacy design. A teenager? Crocheting? How strange, I thought.
In the years since, more granny squares popped up. A co-worker showed up to work wearing a long, flowing sweater, made of brightly colored granny squares. “I’d never be able to pull off that look,” I thought to myself, even though I admired how summery and chic it looked on her.
Just a few months ago, while I chaperoned a class trip to Colorado with my husband, who is a high school band director, I noticed a student, probably 17 years old, pull a skein of yarn and a crochet hook out of her bag while we traveled on the bus.
Do a quick search for “grandma hobbies,” “grandmacore,” or “granny chic,” and you see mentions of it everywhere: TikTok, The Today Show, articles in home and garden magazines. A segment on NPR about how Gen Z was finding new ways to relax referenced Cassandra Dominick, a therapist from Arkansas who wrote her thesis on “Knitting as a Therapeutic Group Technique with 4th Grade Elementary School Students.”
As the mental health crisis among youth and adults ratchets up in our country, the antidote seems to be startlingly familiar: these slow hobbies, (known previously as “hobbies”) have become innovative just as much as being nostalgic. Things like bird-watching, embroidery, knitting, sewing, gardening, and baking are all the rage, and are no longer seen as bygone pastimes.
My knitting needles are clacking away lately, and as I read more about the benefits of these slow hobbies, I realize that what I’m feeling while I count stitches isn’t just my imagination; it’s science. Making something with my hands is so satisfying, and I’m finding it easier to get in the state of flow, that fabulous feeling of complete focus and immersion in something that feels good. Even making mistakes is somewhat satisfying: I’m more likely to stop, go back, figure out where I made the mistake and either rip out stitches with abandon, or carefully “unknit” until I return to the trouble spot. The satisfaction I feel of smoothing out an uneven or dropped stitch is exhilarating.
My current project, a soft baby blanket, sits in a basket next to my favorite chair, and I look at it fondly throughout the day. I love watching the pattern emerge, I love feeling the soft yarn slip through my fingers, and I think of the sweet baby, not yet born, who will some day be swaddled in this fabric that I created with my own hands.
When I knit, or bake, or garden, I feel connected: connected to my ancestors as well as connected to the earth. I stop feeling fidgety and my mind settles. This trend, or more accurately, this return to something that’s always been available to us, is the thing that could make all the difference. These are activities that can be done all alone, or with others, and the skills transcend time and generations. They are cozy, accessible, and portable. They can be completely analog, or they can come with the added innovations of YouTube tutorials, knitting apps, and online meetups to find others with the same interests.
It turns out the newest version of handheld devices don’t have chargers, don’t need wi-fi, and don’t require a monthly subscription. The newest handheld devices are far more revolutionary: needles, hooks, and garden trowels.
Here’s looking at you, Grandma — you righteous rebel.
