Curious About Reactions to Public Knitting and Crocheting

[evilawyer]

Cross-posting this to knitting and crocheting.

I take my knitting and/or crocheting with me when I take public transportation, and I can no longer tell myself "Your imagining it," particularly when I ride BART in the SF Bay area:

People tend to back away and put space between me and my knitting. They don't do it so much when I sitting there with my crocheting, but I get more open staring at what I'm doing with crochet.

I don't think I swing my needles around like those ninja sticks, so I can't be putting people in fear of putting their eyes out. The crochet, I think, is just that it's not as familiar to lots of people as knitting is, so they're probably wondering how where my other needle is. But still, the "let me slide on down a little further away from her on this bench on the platform until I almost fall off" (which a woman in a shockingly pink coat did this morning) is a bit puzzling to me. It's almost like they think I'm going to go ballistic, which is particularly funny since I actually knit and crochet for the associated stress-reduction benefits as well as the good feeling that comes from making something with your hands.

Oh, and just to be clear, I don't get the same reaction when I'm talking on the phone or reading a book or simply sitting there. Needles and hooks are seemingly necessary components.

Does anyone else get this?

Comments

[glinda]

I used to commute and knitting on the commute (with the headphones in) was an excellent way to get the seat to myself. People tended not to sit next to me but they didn't give me a wide berth either. I didn't tend to get stared at, only occasionally and generally I'd see the starer with their own craft project at a later date so I always figured they were admiring/curious about the wool and debating whether it would be rude to interrupt me to ask about it.

Outside commuting times small children are generally the big starers and want to touch the knitting...Though train guards often used to start conversations with me about cross-stich when I did that on the train...

[evilawyer]

People tended not to sit next to me...

To be fair to my fellow passengers, this is pretty much what I've noticed in the past, and it's totally understandable. I tend not to sit next to people doing various thing that look like they may take up space, either. But every once in a while, it's like people get scared off -- get up and move after they've sat down, etc., and I'm always very careful to not knit or crochet if I'm going to be jamming people with my elbows or needles. Today's woman sliding on down the bench was just, to me, more noticeable than most because I started with this flashy hot pink coat (put me in mind of the first Sherlock BBC episode --- it was that shade of pink) sitting down next to me then inching further and further away.

Now I think about it, I should be pleased. More space to create!

[glinda]

I must admit the sidling away is a bit odd. Although admittedly there is no way to be subtle when wearing a hot pink coat (I must confess I was mentally imagining the outfit from that episode when I saw your post) but still.

My oddest one was sitting knitting on a half-empty train when a bloke sat down next to me and gradually took up more and more space until I ended up turning round in my seat so my back was to the window, just so I didn't poke him in the arm every stitch. And then me preceded to sigh pointedly and huffily at me every time I started a new row. Thankfully he got off at the next stop and I wasn't forced to employ sarcasm regarding the 'fullness' of the carriage but the whole situation was bizarre.

[evilawyer]

...admittedly there is no way to be subtle when wearing a hot pink coat...

Hah! So very, very true!

Definitely an odd one you ran into on that train ride. Almost like he was trying to antagonize you into saying something snide so he could then start complaining about how you were persecuting him by insisting on knitting even though he was on the train. He'd benefit significantly from the soothing and self-affirming qualities of knitting, I think.