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Crafting Independence: The Enduring Value of Handmade Skills
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"Knitting taught me more patience, brought me closer to myself, and deepened my appreciation for the beauty of handmade craft."
This winter, I had this deep feeling that I wanted to make something—something with my own two hands. I kept seeing posts about knitted pieces online, and one day, it finally pushed me to walk down to 1001 Fonal, a cozy little yarn shop in Budapest’s 13th district. My English grandma had taught me the basics of knitting when I was little, and I’d tried making a long cardigan once before—but never actually finished anything worth wearing!
When I stepped into the shop, I spotted a sample cardigan hanging there—the longest one they had, of course (!) and fell in love instantly. The shop assistant mentioned they had a knitting club every Wednesday and Friday, so I bought the softest merino wool, gathered all the needles I needed, and signed up.
I had no clue where to even begin with this cardigan, so I showed up at my first class on a Wednesday. It was such a lovely surprise to see a mix of ages, from beginners like me to truly advanced knitters. It warmed my heart to see that people still have this innate desire to create with their hands, that it's not something lost in our fast-paced, digital world.
Spending months working on this piece, pouring hours into each stitch, and finally holding up something I had made—it’s an incomparable feeling. The process itself was incredible; I had to knit the cardigan in three main pieces along with the sleeves and pockets, and at first, I couldn’t quite see how it was all going to come together. But step by step, stitch by stitch, it started to make sense. Watching it take shape before my eyes, seeing my own progress, feeling myself get better as I went along—it was one of the most rewarding experiences I’ve ever had.
Just this morning at the bus stop, I noticed a girl wearing a bright purple crochet hat. I told her how beautiful it was, and she beamed, saying, “I made it.” I could see how proud she was. Isn’t that so much more valuable than picking up something mass-produced, made by unknown hands?
With Kafi Folk evolving this year, this is the direction I want to take—encouraging people to return to the basics, to rediscover skills they never knew they had, to reconnect with themselves through craft. That’s why our first workshop of the year is 'Embroidering Heritage' with Anca Dragoe from Romania. She’ll be flying in on April 12th to host a special embroidery class, where we’ll dive into the tradition of Romanian embroidery, learn how to stitch personal symbols, and embroider them onto a Kafi Folk tunic made from authentic cotton fabric. It will be an intimate gathering at my home, over tea, coffee, and warm conversation, with only seven spots available.
Hundreds of years ago, people embroidered their clothing to tell stories—to mark where they were from, their role in society, their identity. Cotton threads were dyed by hand, fabrics were woven from plants grown in the garden. And yet today, we pour money into brands we barely understand—brands known for being ‘luxurious,’ but what does that even mean? Is it luxury because of the artistry and skill behind it, or simply because of a name associated with wealth? Something to think about.
In the end, I truly believe we need to get closer to working with our hands. Whether it’s knitting a cardigan, growing your own vegetables, cooking from scratch - skills that sustain us. They’re the skills no one can take away from us. Everything else is fleeting, but what we carry in our hands, hearts, and minds is ours forever. So what will you make next?