One Hook, No Pattern

There's no sewing machine involved in a baby blanket. No cutting table, no pattern pinned to the wall. Just a hook, a lap, and however many evenings it takes.

Right now there's a soft orange and cream one sitting in the shop, 38 by 27 inches, made with a worsted weight yarn and a 5mm hook. I don't count stitches as I go, not exactly, but I know the shape by feel after this many blankets. When a row comes out short I can tell before I even measure it, and I pull it back rather than let it slide into the next row crooked.

Each one takes a few evenings, usually three or four, depending on how often I get pulled away mid-row to pack an order or answer a message about sizing. I don't mind that part. Crochet is one of the only pieces of this shop that doesn't need to be rushed. A coat I find secondhand already exists. I just have to clean it and photograph it well. A blanket like this one didn't exist yet, and I made the whole thing, loop by loop. That's a different kind of work than almost anything else I sell.

People ask sometimes if I follow a pattern, and the honest answer is not really, not anymore. I know how a corner should lie flat, and how many rows it takes before something crib-sized starts looking right. Even so, every one still comes out a little different. The orange one in the shop right now isn't identical to the last orange blanket I made, and it won't be identical to the next one either, if I make another in that color. Nobody can order the same blanket twice. That's just true of handmade things.

I price these at $24. Some days that feels low for the hours sitting inside one. Some days it feels exactly right, because this is the part of the shop that doesn't pay the bills, and I'd probably still make them even if nobody bought one.

I think that's close to what I believe about most of what ends up here, handmade or not. Something made with real attention, by real hands, holds a kind of worth a factory line can't quite copy. Call it old-fashioned. I'll keep making them anyway, one hook at a time, for whoever ends up wrapping a baby in it.

Choose to be kind. Choose to be grateful. Choose to be happy.

— Nina of GiaNina Collective