Come closer, mortals, we wish to tell you a tale of tube-flavoured terror… Knit the City have a special love for underground London. In our formative days each of us were beckoned into shady underground doorways by our mysterious hooded mentor. There we were relentlessly trained in ways of the yarnstorm while we spent our days and nights in Knit the City’s secret underground wool-lined bunker. Pay heed to the woolly warning of the Gate of Ghouls, good people of London. You never know what is looking up when you’re not looking down… For Halloween tales of...Read More
There’s a yarnstorm brewing. If you stick your head out of the window you can smell it in the London air. It’s reaching its woolly fingers out of the shadows and feelings its way towards its target. The countdown is on. In the run up to the whirlwind of woolly wrongdoing we’re taking the opportunity to help you get to know the Knit the City Yarn Corps a little better. First out of the secret wool-lined bunker are the sweary butterfly-surrounded Bluestocking Stitcher and the sheepdip-sniffing Shorn-a the Dead. The Bluestocking Stitcher What is your theme tune?...Read More
Once in a lifetime a film comes along that will touch your heart, make you laugh till tea comes out of your nose, make you cry till you get a dehydration headache, and make you wish that you could live you life again and do it alllllll so differently that world peace ensued and all famine was wiped out.
This is not that film.
But it is pretty freaking cool.Read More
Once upon a time there were six lonely, grey and stony churches dotted around a giant city of concrete and commuters. These churches had history, they had lived in the city for many years, and long ago someone had thought so much of them they had written them into a nursery rhyme and made their singing bells the stars.Read More
Knit the City’s six-hour yarnstorm to the tune of one of London’s oldest nursery rhymes. Grab your citrus fruit and join us!Read More
Like all good Knit the City Yarnstorms the idea for the Web of Woe was hatched after too much pear cider one Knit the City night in the secret Yarn Corps wool-lined bunker. Plans were drawn, more cider was drunk, the space was measured, visions of half-eaten bugs began to crawl and scuttle through our minds.Read More