A Walk in the Woods

J o i n i n gk n i t - i nt h eOOn a January afternoon, a dozen students cluster on thechairs and carpet of Parrish Parlors, chatting quietly whilehunched over their needlework. No, this is not a quiltingbee. They’re knitting.“It’s really relaxing,” says Bianca Passarelli ’01, head of the KnitWits club since 1998, “and it keeps you awake in class.”“Oh yeah,” says Maria Alvarez ’04, looking up from her latestcreation, a pair of fingerless glove/mittens that dangle from a wirering in her lap. “It also makes me feel like I’m being productive,even if I’m just watching TV or sitting on the floor, talking to myfriends.”“It’s a tactile thing. It just feels good,” adds another student,launching an animated discussion of yarns, from ultrasoft “bunnyangora” to spun dog hair—something no one in this group hastried. Yet.Once thought of as the pastime of gray-haired ladies with spareneedles stuck in their buns, knitting has become popular amongyouthful achievers, especially those frequently called on to wait.Julia Roberts is known to knit between takes on the movie set. Yarnis even infiltrating the fine arts. According to Philadelphia’s CityPaper (Jan. 4–11), Sheryl Robin David received a Pew Fellowshipgrant for her crochet art and, at Philadelphia’s Fringe Festival lastfall, a performance artist drew curious onlookers by knitting, unraveling,and reknitting the dress she was wearing.The click of needles can be heard these days in Swarthmore’sclassrooms, dorms, and libraries. Now, in Parrish Parlors, the soundrises to an industriousbuzz, as it doesevery Thursdayafternoon when theKnit Wits gather towork on their latestprojects and tradetechniques, patterns,and stories ofvaliant—but not always victorious—efforts. After an hour, Passarellipauses to update the group on ongoing community programs,such as the donation of knit caps to chemotherapy patientsat the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia.Meanwhile, skilled knitters like Joanna Brown ’02—who workson a pair of gloves from a tricky system of single-pointed needles(most gloves are made on double-ended needles)—give pointers tonewcomers like Kenneth “Ross” Hoffman ’04, whose sister taughthim to knit over Christmas break. Hoffman clicks away at a redwool beret, his second project, pausing to yank the rim onto hishead, demonstrating a perfect fit. “That’s the nice thing about knittingfor yourself,” a woman says, smiling.As dusk falls over the snow-covered lawn outside, Alvarez pullsout a half-finished cable-knit sweater from her bag. “I’m really hopingto finish this before winter ends,” she says. “I’m from California.I’m freezing here!”—Cathleen McCarthyMEGAN CHOY’S [’03] HANDS AREN’T IDLE (TOP). CHOY, URSULA WHITCHER’03 (BOTTOM LEFT), AND CATHY TA ’03 (BOTTOM RIGHT) ARE AMONG ADOZEN “KNIT WITS” WHO MEET WEEKLY TO WORK ON KNITTING PROJECTS.PHOTOS BY ELEFTHERIOS KOSTANSM A R C H 2 0 0 17