The emotional gamble of a hand-knitted gift

Cydney Alvarez, a fabric developer from Brooklyn, was packing to visit her family in Dallas for Christmas last year when she realized she had knitted two left-handed mittens for her stepmother. She rushed to replace one: “I was frantically trying to finish it in flight,” she said.

But the challenge is part of why Ms. Alvarez, 29, enjoys knitting gifts. Since 2020, she has knitted a dozen gifts for her family every year during the holidays. This year she made five pairs of mittens, four hats, a stuffed fox in a reindeer dress and a sweater for her father’s large French bulldog. “I’m a little nervous it won’t fit,” she said of the dog sweater, her first. “But I hope for the best.”

The coronavirus pandemic sparked a knitting boom, with people craving new hobbies or calming their nerves during lockdown. And at this time of year, knitting is perfect for gift giving. After all, there are only a limited number of hats you can make for a personal collection.

But when it comes to hand-knitted gifts, some New Yorkers face all kinds of concerns and expectations about the fit, style, pattern and color choice of each item. Will the recipient appreciate the time and attention put into the project? Or do you just put the new scarf or turtleneck in a drawer and never take it out again? For many knitters, the decision of who gets a gift depends on these questions.

And then there’s the curse of the ‘boyfriend sweater’: the looming superstition that if you knit a sweater for your partner, he or she will inevitably break up with you.

“You really have to think about the people you’re giving gifts to,” says Joelle Hoverson, the founder of knitting store Purl Soho and author of “Last-Minute Knitted Gifts.” “Because it’s so charged.”

Maya Gooding, 31, has knitted her father a hat every Christmas for the past six years. As craftsmen would say, Mrs. Gooding’s father is “knit-worthy.”

“He always wears those hats,” said Ms. Gooding, a Westchester knitwear designer who works in the Flatiron district. “My mother will call me: ‘How am I supposed to wash his hat? He wears it all the time.’ When I hear that, no matter the cost or time, I will make him a hat if he wants it.”

For Julie Robinson, 34, someone she has cried for is usually knitting-worthy. “We need a close relationship,” she said.

Ms. Robinson, a knitting teacher and designer in Ridgewood, Queens, typically knits small accessories for other people that can be completed quickly. She has knitted only one sweater, for her mother, when she was in high school in the early 2000s. It was tubular with short sleeves and a ribbon around the neck. Mrs. Robinson chose a yarn that was red – her mother’s favorite color.

“She never wore that sweater,” Mrs. Robinson said. “I’d guess it’s still in their house somewhere, probably because she regrets never wearing it, but it’s really not her style.”

Fortunately, Mrs. Robinson prefers to let go of her gifts once she receives them. “I’m very much in line with Marie Kondo on this,” she said.

A skein of yarn can cost anywhere from a few dollars to thirty dollars, and it can cost two or three dollars to make a scarf long enough to loop several times around an adult’s neck on the coldest days. Ms. Gooding, the knitwear designer, estimated that the cost of hand-knitting a sweater — including tools, yarn and fair hourly wages — could be as much as $2,000. Even for the most experienced knitters, a project can take weeks. The fastest Mrs. Robinson has ever knitted a sweater was within a week.

“And that’s with pretty big needles and thick yarn,” she said.

Several yarn companies, such as Brand Lion And We are knitters, have reported big sales spikes during the pandemic-era boom. Celebrities such as Olympic diver Tom Daley, who I recently knitted a cardigan for Gillian Anderson’s character to wear in ‘Sex Education’, have picked up needles. In New York City, knitting circles have popped up in bars, parks and coffee shops. The trend also coincides with a broader desire for eco-friendly clothing made from natural fibers.

“The fashion world is focusing on garments that are originally more politically correct,” says Olivia Eaton, an adjunct associate professor at the Pratt Institute who teaches hand knitting. “I think sheep’s wool is one of the most sustainable materials you can use.”

That can make knitters feel even better about sharing their craft with others. But it can still sting if the gift doesn’t seem to be appreciated.

Lynda Villa-Fournier, 54, a health care worker and longtime knitter in the Bronx, remembered a gift she made for a friend.

‘I knitted something for her baby, but I never got a picture of the baby wearing it. Nothing,” she said. “So I never knitted anything for her baby again.”

Mrs. Eaton echoed this sentiment. “Honestly, I’m more ready to make something for someone if I’m absolutely sure they’re going to wear it,” she said.

However, Ms Eaton believes that hand-knitted gifts should be donated or passed on as hand-me-downs if the original recipient is not happy with the gift. Years ago, Ms. Eaton was waiting at a subway station in Brooklyn when she saw a young woman wearing a colorful granny-square hooded vest. Mrs. Eaton recognized the garment. She had crocheted it for a friend, who, as it turned out, had given it to her roommate.

“I appreciate the fact that most of my friends are ruthless and not sentimental,” she said.

Austin Rivers, 29, started making just gifts after learning to knit in 2018. An initial project included eight sets of fingerless gloves for his castmates during a musical theater tour in Japan.

In 2020, Mr. Rivers started Knit the Rainbow, a New York-based nonprofit that collects and distributes hand-knitted garments to homeless LGBTQ+ youth. For any knitter worried about choosing the right size or colorway, donating to an unknown recipient can be a way to relieve that stress.

“You can make a size 5 sock or a size 12 sock,” Mr. Rivers said. “And we’ll be able to find someone who needs it.”

Some people find it less daunting to knit for children – or better yet, for babies who can’t talk yet and say they don’t like their new blankets.

Amy Reeder, 43, and her fiancé, Kate Zimmermann, 39, live in Manhattan and have both knitted gifts for children and babies over the years. There was a Cookie Monster vest with cookie buttons, a watermelon hat, and a turtle beret and shark balaclava for Mrs. Reeder’s nieces and nephews.

“I feel like it’s a creative exercise for both of us in different ways,” said Ms. Zimmermann, a book editor. “It’s a body of work – sometimes hilarious, a bit weird.”

But for Ms. Alvarez, the fabric developer, knitting for children can be nerve-wracking. They are often more honest than adults, she said. Last year she made a cuddly toy alpaca for her three-year-old niece. “And as I was wrapping it up,” she said, “I thought, ‘What if she thinks it’s scary or what if she doesn’t like it?'”

Luckily her niece loved it.

“I was so relieved,” Ms. Alvarez said.