Darn it, just who is this secret knitter?

[Evil Eye]

As night falls in the sleepy seaside town of Saltburn-by-the-Sea in North Yorkshire, a lone figure gets to work down by the pier. She moves nimbly along the rickety slats, pausing occasionally to retrieve something from a bulging shoulder bag. Dressed head-to-toe in black, she works in silence, marking the metal railings in her signature way as she moves along the beach. She reaches the end, stops to admire her handiwork – and then, as suddenly as she appeared, the mysterious figure is gone.



They call her the Saltburn Yarnbomber. That is, if “she” even is a she, as most locals assume. But far from vandalising the pier in the dead of night, this shady individual isn’t out to cause damage – she (or he) just loves to knit.



Since October last year, the mystery knitter – one of an army of secretive “guerrilla knitters” who have recently sprung up across Britain – has left woolly creations all over the tiny Teesside town. First it was a set of darned books (The Secret Cardigan and A Ripping Yarn) tied to a railing outside the library. Next, a tray of woollen buns appeared by the cake shop, while a family of teddy bears was spotted eating tiny knitted sandwiches on a picnic table near the promenade.



This week, the Banksy of the knitting world “yarnbombed” her most spectacular creation yet: a huge Olympics-themed scarf, adorned with models of athletes from synchronised swimmers to rowers, weightlifters and footballers. The colourful display, wound around the railings on the pier, stretches for 50 yards and has been lovingly stitched to the finest detail, including shoelaces, ski poles and miniature gold medals. Knitting experts estimate the scarf would have taken up to a year to complete – and most of the night to attach to the pier. But instead of stepping forward to receive his or her plaudits, the Saltburn Yarnbomber has kept everybody guessing.



“It’s a classic whodunit,” says Mike Morgan of the local Evening Gazette, who has launched an appeal to unmask the knitter. “Everyone in the town is talking about the scarf, but we’re stumped about the culprit. Personally, I think it’s a group of people, because one person couldn’t do all that knitting on their own.”



On the streets of Saltburn, theories about the Yarnbomber are rife. A retired craft teacher, perhaps? An underground knitting club? A fisherman with a penchant for wool? To date, there is only one clue: a previous creation bore a handwritten note, signed “The Yarn Junki” – but far from getting answers, locals were left even more confused about the knitter’s identity.



“It’s one of the best mysteries we’ve ever had in Saltburn,” says Tony Lynn, a local historian who has lived in the town for 56 years. “It’s such a fantastic creation – whoever did it should be very proud of themselves.” Surely he must have an inkling about who it is? “We all have our suspicions, but it would spoil the fun if it’s just revealed to be Mrs Jones from round the corner. Long may the mystery last.”



Saltburn’s woolly displays are part of the wider trend of guerrilla knitting, a type of benign vandalism in which enthusiasts leave knitted creations on lampposts, railings and road signs. Started over a decade ago by American shop owner Magda Sayeg, the craze has now reached epic proportions, with groups across Britain knitting tea-cosies, jumpers and scarves for display on the street. The knitters all work under aliases (“Shorn-a of the Dead” and “Deadly Knitshade”, to name two), and put their creations out at night to keep their identities secret.



“Yarnbombers love the element of surprise,” says Magda, 35, whose crochet creations have appeared everywhere from post boxes to door handles, on trees and even covering a bus. “It’s about doing something nice for your neighbourhood, but not detracting from that by drawing attention to yourself. Knitting conjures up lovely images of grandmothers making fuzzy wool jumpers – it creates a real feel-good factor that can cheer people up no end.”



Well, it has certainly worked in Saltburn, where bemused locals have seen tourists flock to the pier in their hundreds this week. The town, which recently celebrated its 150th birthday, is proud of its beloved Yarnbomber – and residents can’t wait to see what will appear next.



And will the Yarnbomber’s knitted Olympics stay on the pier? Mr Lynn certainly hopes so. “It’ll have to blow down before it’s moved,” he says. “It’s brightened our week. Whoever they are, I hope they keep pulling the wool over our eyes for years to come.”

Source: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/new.../Darn-it-just-who-is-this-secret-knitter.html





Well, this is the first I've heard of it. Sounds like an interesting hobby

Notice the pun in the title.

 

[Jazzy]

I read this article and it's very darn cute that whoever is doing this is making people smile. Keep knitting!!!!

 

[DrLeftover]

I can testify that my wife, a known knitter, has never been to... whereverinthehellitis.

 

[Evil Eye]

Does your testimony count, though?

Maybe you're in league with her.