Postcards from London

I have had an unusual week of interactions with fellow Londoners, mostly in response to my knitting in public. They also all happened to be men. Here are a few accounts.

Out of a window

As I was walking home from my writing class, a man hanging out of a window called out to me. At first I thought he would make some leery remark, however, it seemed he was simply pondering the meaning of his life and wanted input from a passing (okay he did say lovely looking) stranger. I replied to his “What am I to do with my life” with a “Well you gotta figure that out for yourself mate” to which he seemed to have a moment of epiphany. I subsequently took my leave and left him to it.

Bus companion

A young man confessed to be mesmerised by the rhythm of my needles as I was knitting on the 171 bus, Peckham bound. He asked what I was making and then recounted the story of how his mother used to knit. He commented on my cleverness and bade me farewell as he got off at the next stop.

Finsbury Park Caff

As I was waiting for a friend at a cafe just outside Finsbury Park station I was knitting and noticed a man at the table next to me was staring. He unplugged from his phone and said that he knew how to knit and used to do it as a boy. He complimented my skill and asked what I was making. We made other small talk and again he offered a “Goodbye and good luck” when he got up to leave.

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is a weaver of words, storyteller of sustainability and textile traveller extraordinaire. Here you will find stories of textile design, tales of living with a mental health condition and personal travelogues. Enjoy!

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