Knitch Magazine

You’ve glimpsed them from your car window as you head down the highway, or maybe on a walk near the woods, a flash of color and texture so different from the foliage, you have to take a closer look. What IS it? Can that really be a glittery pink and purple scarf gently waving from a bush about to bud?

Photo left: Coming soon to a post near you.

Or a not-so-itsy-bitsy bright yellow bikini adorning a sturdy tree? How about a striped sleeve covering a light pole, bringing a jot of color to a busy intersection? Whether it’s strands of acrylic wrapped around wintry New Jersey trees, or a pastel Easter surprise in a Milwaukee park, more fiber creations blossom everywhere, bringing smiles and wonderment.

These whimsical knits are usually on display only briefly, occasionally long enough for local media to do a breaking news story about how “Knitting isn’t just for grandma anymore.” (Quick, call CNN!) Often it’s gone long before the headlines hit. “Guerilla knitting,” also called “Yarn graffiti” or “Yarn bombing,” tends to mysteriously appear and vanish almost as quickly---although its disappearing act is usually due to what the agents on TV’s “NCIS” constantly refer to as “local LEOs [law enforcement officers] on the scene.” Their sense of knitting appreciation is overridden by words like “trespassing,” or “defacing public property,” which is why much guerilla knitting is anonymously placed.

Photo right: Yarn-bombing at the British School of Amsterdam where Annie Van Schooneveld teaches children how to knit. She yarn bombs the Lower Junior School trees to entertain the children.

“On vacation last March, I had a layover in the Singapore airport, where I tied a heart I’d knitted to the framework of the bench seating,” says one yarn bomber. “I found out later that I could have been caned for littering.” Most penalties are less brutal, but rather than risk fines or imprisonment (with no access to knitting!), many dedicated yarn bombers prefer to sneak their creations into place, then hope their knitted goodies will stay long enough to be enjoyed.

These random, uncredited creations are different than the knitted artistry actually commissioned or deliberately displayed by companies or groups. The so-called “sweater tree” in front of a Baltimore yarn shop is a conversation starter and landmark, not an impulsive decoration that cropped up overnight.

So what has ignited this craze of knitting for shrubbery and light poles, none of which ever say, “Oh, I’d like that scarf so much better if it was longer/shorter/ lace/cabled/periwinkle instead of purple”? Its beginnings are hazy, possibly rooted in the enthusiasm of some Texas knitters seeking attention for their craft. Two books, Sabrina, Gschwandtner’s “KnitKnit,” and “Yarn Bombing: The Art of Crochet and Knit Graffiti,” by Mandy Moore and Leanne Prain, have inspired other knitters and crocheters to Think Big. The Internet, especially YouTube and the social networks Ravelry and FaceBook, have brought it all home in living, moving color, prompting nameless but eager knitters to map out the ideal location in need of some knitted bling, artfully draped during a secret mission.

“Yarn bombing is a gentle kind of mischief making, and none of us have enough of that in our lives,” said Karen Jelenfy, the only yarn bomber interviewed who permitted her identity to be revealed. Karen, whose shop “Village Books” in Washington, Maine, specializes in fiber-related books, local yarn and roving, said she was inspired both by Gschwandtner’s book and her own irreverent attitude toward life. “Why are we letting the world get so ugly, and how can we wake people up?” she said. “And the sneaking is part of the fun; the mystery of ‘where did this come from and why is it here’ is so entertaining. Plus, those of us making a statement could get into a lot of trouble if we’re trespassing on federal property.”

Photo left: Parking meter "yarn Bomb" captured by Peter Regier in Chinatown in Vancouver, just outside the World's Thinnest Building.

With most knitters already possessing too many projects on their needles, isn’t the idea of knitting one more thing, an item that will not only be deliberately placed outside in the elements, but will be torn down in days, even hours, a tough sell? “My knitting group mostly thinks yarn bombing is an incredible waste of time and won’t team with me, so I’m a solo bomber most of the time,” Karen admitted. But she consistently recruits others, and described her older sister as an active member of the practice. Both sisters were festooning a light pole at their father’s retirement community when two women came by, wondering what they were up to. “When we’d told them, the driver was delighted and asked if we minded if she added to it,” Karen said.”Of course, we were enthusiastic about that.”

Enthusiasm for yarn bombing is sometimes sparked by the idea of making a public statement, but the sentiments can be simple instead of political. One yarn bomber’s favorite event happened last July near Chicago, centering on a tree trunk that had been carved into a likeness of President Barack Obama. “I knitted a scarf for him, and at July 4th party, I asked others to write a wish for our country on felt leaves I’d made to add to the scarf,” she said. Along with her fellow bombers, each with a job to ensure that all went smoothly, she headed out with the scarf.

“The driver slowed as we approached the field where ‘Barack’ stood. Two of us ran over, put the scarf on him and took a photo. I loved that there were teenagers and older adults involved, all of very different political persuasions. I encouraged people to write only positive things, as I hated the idea of a scarf of heaviness.” Those birthday wishes for our nation fluttered in the July night sky, a unique message for all who spotted ‘Barack’ and his handmade neckwear.

Photo right: Knitch Magazine's own Barbara Rottman recently participated in a yarn bomb on State Street in Madison, Wisconsin.

If nothing else, yarn bombing is a stash buster. “I use only cheap yarns I’m never going to knit into something more permanent,” said one longtime ‘yarn artist,’ as she calls herself. “I am still getting enjoyment from my yarn, especially if it’s something I bought so long ago, I no longer remember, or care to make, the sweater or scarf I intended.”

For those who want to try guerilla knitting, Karen Jelenfy suggests taking a look, via books or the Internet, at the work of yarn bombers all over the world. “Then figure out where/if you fit in: are you a statement-maker, a true guerilla, as in pink-covered yarn tanks? Or are you a ‘knitted-flower-placed-in-the-woods,’ or randomly affixed to a stop sign kind of artist? Or both? Then…get started.”