Stitches, Spirits & Superstitions
- Tess Crawford
- Jan 6
- 3 min read
The Folklore Origins of Knitting & Crochet Myths (and Why We Still Believe Them)
Knitting and crochet have never been just hobbies. For most of their history, they were survival skills, social currency, and—quietly—acts of magic.
When your hands shape warmth, protection, and clothing from a single thread, it’s only natural that beliefs grew around the process. Some myths were warnings. Others were blessings in disguise. Many were ways to explain why things sometimes… went wrong.
Let’s pull back the curtain on some of the most enduring fiber superstitions—and where they truly came from.
Leave a Mistake, Lest Your Soul Be Trapped
Origin: European & Indigenous weaving traditions

This belief appears in many forms across cultures. The idea is not limited to knitting—it appears in weaving, embroidery, and lace-making.
Historically, textiles were seen as extensions of the maker. The act of creating fabric mirrored the act of creation itself. A perfectly finished piece was thought to trap the maker’s spirit or invite divine jealousy.
In Navajo weaving, a “spirit line” is intentionally woven into the rug to allow the weaver’s soul to exit. In European knitting folklore, the same idea evolved into leaving a tiny mistake.
Modern echo: “It’s handmade—that’s how you know.”
The Sweater Curse (a.k.a. Knitting Your Lover Away)
Origin: Early 20th-century domestic labor dynamics

This superstition surged in popularity alongside the rise of romantic gift-giving and mass-produced clothing. A hand-knit sweater represented hundreds of hours of unpaid labor—a level of commitment often mismatched in early relationships.
The curse wasn’t mystical so much as social:
The maker invests deeply
The recipient feels pressured
The imbalance strains the relationship
Still, countless knitters insist the curse has teeth. The folklore persists because… well, it keeps happening.
Folklore takeaway: Knit socks first. Test the waters.
Cutting Yarn Invites Bad Luck
Origin: Ancient fate mythology

Across Greek, Roman, and Norse mythologies, life itself was a thread. The Fates spun, measured, and cut it. To cut thread carelessly was to tempt the same forces.
Yarn symbolized continuity—of life, lineage, and time. Cutting it without purpose was thought to sever good fortune or invite chaos.
Practical truth hides beneath the myth: yarn was precious. Waste was dangerous.
Dropped Stitches Mean Someone Is Thinking of You
Origin: European folk romance traditions

This charming belief reframed mistakes as messages, especially in eras when loved ones were separated by war, travel, or trade.
Rather than seeing errors as failure, they became signs of connection—someone, somewhere, tugging at your thoughts as you tugged at the yarn.
A myth designed to soften frustration and loneliness.
Don’t Knit During Storms or by Candlelight
Origin: Pre-industrial safety & spiritual beliefs

Storms were believed to stir spirits, and nightfall blurred boundaries between worlds. Fiber work—already associated with fate—was considered risky during these liminal moments.
Also: candlelight + sharp needles + tired eyes = disaster.
Folklore often wraps safety advice in superstition because superstition sticks.
Never Start a Project on a Friday
Origin: Medieval European luck lore

Friday carried religious and cultural weight—associated with endings, trials, and ill fortune. Starting long endeavors on Fridays was discouraged.
Centuries later, we still joke that starting on a Friday guarantees a permanent WIP.
Yarn as Protection & Charm
Origin: Household magic traditions

Small bundles of wool were kept in homes, travel bags, or pockets as protection against illness, hunger, and the evil eye. Wool was warmth, resilience, and survival spun together.
Color mattered too:
Red for protection
Blue for calm and safety
White for mourning or remembrance
Why These Myths Refuse to Die
Because crafting is slow. Intimate. Repetitive. Because mistakes happen. Because meaning helps us forgive ourselves.
And because when your hands make something from nothing, it feels a little magical—even now.
Let’s Stitch This Together
We want to hear from you:
Have you heard other knitting or crochet superstitions?
Were you taught one by a parent, grandparent, or yarn-shop sage?
Do you secretly believe one… just a little?
Comment with: The superstition; Where you heard it; Whether you still follow it
We’re gathering folklore for future journal entries—and the best stories always come from the community.



