Tying knots transformed my design journey.
If you’re like me, lockdowns the past year have left you scrambling for new hobbies. Restless, anxious energy on top of a constant stream of glass-blowing, rug-tufting, and other niche craft content on TikTok left me looking for anything to occupy my hands and ease my mind. When I took Lisa Marks’ genius elective class on contemporary craft this past fall, I was introduced to the craft of macramé which is — in its essence — the art-science of tying knots. After the whole class had spent weeks learning to knit, we signed up for different groups, each of which would be learning a new, distinct craft. After forgetting to sign up for a slot, I was “stuck” in the macramé group. I can’t lie — I was initially a bit disappointed. My exposure to macramé was limited to boho-Pinterest-y plant swings and wall hangers that all shared a similar aesthetic in my eyes. It all seemed a bit limiting.
But when I sat down to start my first macramé project, I was genuinely blown away by the intricate texture I could create using only a basic square knot. Throughout the class, I learned that was the beauty of so many mediums we studied from crochet to quilting. It was structure and intricacy created by the repetition of a simple action. Lisa, who is an expert in computer-generated knitting, taught us that experimentation with any craft is about understanding the “unit” of that craft and manipulating variables around that unit. The knot was the unit, and I could manipulate all sorts of variables around it: rope size, distance between knots, type of knot, and cord color just to name a few. I came to understand something that Clifford W. Ashley, author of the Ashley book of knots, once expressed so eloquently, “To me, the simple act of tying a knot is an adventure in unlimited space…limited only by the scope of our imaginary and the length of the ropemaker’s coil.”
I actually have a bit of a history with knots. When I was a kid, our family went on a lot of camping trips, and my dad, a proud Eagle Scout, would teach me useful knots whenever he got the opportunity. He showed me how to tie up firewood, how to create an adjustable clothesline with two different sized ropes, and even how to make a big rope swing with the sturdy bowline knot. In the fifth grade, I even made a knot tutorial video for my school’s media festival, plainly titled Knot Tying, in which I explain, over twangy canned music, how to tie many different knots. The video is amusing to look back on now that knots have come to play a huge role in my life thirteen years later!
After I had experimented with cotton macramé cord for a while, I started to wonder if I could make clothes with the techniques I had been learning. I researched macramé clothing and found some vests and small accessories, but I was still caught up on the fact that most of it, with a few exceptions, was made from a similar type of cord, giving a lot of the garments a very specific look and range of colors. I knew that a craft like macramé, with its limitless possibilities, had to be capable of more. I had taken up airbrushing the year before as a means of transforming used clothing and making it new again. I wondered if macramé could be used in the same way. I began to cut up my old t-shirts and thrifted fabrics into long stretchy loops that I then tied into colorful, chaotic creations. I worked at this for months before I had anything that even resembled a workable, wearable garment. I started to think macramé clothing was a bust, but then I had a breakthrough when I started designing lingerie pieces. The supportive structure of knotted cotton fabric, the woven mosaic of colors, and the playful fringe left at the bottom of my projects were all conducive to the lingerie, and the friction created by square knot chains of T-shirt fabric allowed me to incorporate adjustability into my designs.
While I certainly have made huge advances in practicing the craft, I also have a lot to learn and a lot of ideas for new macramé products swimming around in my head. I’m currently reading a book called Year of Knots by Windy Chien, about the author’s year-long journey of learning a new knot every day. It’s amazing to read the writings of an artist who has found her creative voice through knot-tying, and I’m learning new ties that I can’t wait to incorporate into my work. Looking back at my macramé journey reminds me of the incredible inspiration that can come along with adopting new and unexpected mediums. Working with new materials, whether it leaves you feeling frustrated or reinvigorated, will always push your limits as a designer. What new mediums have you tried that rerouted your creative work or helped you along your design journey?
