Six students, one teacher
Every class caps at six. Your teacher watches your tension, your stitches, your shoulder posture — and corrects what needs correcting before it becomes a habit. No-one slips through the back of a crowded room.
In-person knitting classes for every level — from your first stitch to your first sweater.
Most of our students come to us tired — of screens, of fast feedback loops, of finished things appearing in shopping carts. They want to make something slowly, with two sticks and a length of wool. Everything we teach is built for that quiet, productive hour.
Every class caps at six. Your teacher watches your tension, your stitches, your shoulder posture — and corrects what needs correcting before it becomes a habit. No-one slips through the back of a crowded room.
Every yarn we stock and teach with is mulesing-free, traceable, and spun within a day's drive of the studio. No synthetic blends, no acrylic. The work feels different in your hands because the wool is different.
Wooden floors, soft lamps, a teapot on, two cats who supervise from the windowsill. No fluorescent strip lights, no chasing playlist. The space is quiet enough to hear the click of your own needles. That is the point.
All classes are in-person at the studio, two hours each, with a small group of six. Yarn, needles, and a printed pattern are included; you bring only yourself. Tea is on the house.
Eight weeks, one sweater. We pick a top-down raglan pattern together at the first class — fitted, cropped, oversized, your call — and you leave the final session wearing it. The course that has built every regular in the studio.
Three two-hour sessions over a single week. You leave able to cast on, knit, purl, and cast off — the four moves all of knitting rests on. We send you home with a finished washcloth. It is more satisfying than it sounds.
One five-week deep dive into the family of stitches that make Aran sweaters: simple cables, mock cables, ribbed cables, honeycomb. By the end you will be able to read any cable chart and predict what your fabric will look like.
A standing weekly drop-in. Bring a sweater with a hole, a sock that is more darn than sock, a moth-damaged piece you are sentimental about. We will teach you to fix it — visibly, beautifully — in two hours, with tea.
First-time students get the trial First Stitch class for $35 — a chance to try the studio before committing. Five and ten-class packs available; ask at the desk.
All classes are in person at the studio. Bookings open two weeks ahead. Cancel more than 24 hours before and the seat returns to your account as credit.
A small selection from the past year, photographed at the studio with permission. The makers are listed by first name. Every piece is wool, sourced from one of our three regional mills.
We ask new students to give themselves a full eight-week term before deciding whether knitting is for them. Three of those notes from the past year.
I came in genuinely thinking I would be the slowest, most uncoordinated person in the room. By week three I was knitting in the round; by week eight I was wearing a fitted raglan I had made with my own hands. It still does not feel real.
I signed up because my hands needed something to do that was not a phone. I now block out two hours every Saturday for Mending Circle. The studio is small and quiet and the teacher remembers my name, which is genuinely how I judge any studio.
I had been trying to teach myself from YouTube for years. Within one in-person lesson Astrid spotted that I was knitting through the back loop on every stitch — which explained why everything I made looked oddly twisted. Genuinely life-changing two hours.
If something isn't covered, write to us — we read every message and reply within a day, usually less.
Drop a note and we will reply within a day. Or just call — there is usually a person at the desk between classes, knitting and waiting for the kettle.
Thank you. We will be in touch within 24 hours — usually sooner. If you don't hear from us, please call the studio directly; occasionally a message gets caught in a spam filter.