I learned to knit from my Greek grandmother, my yiayia. We would go to the “a little of everything” store in the village that sold scratchy wool yarn in a palette of deep nature colors, among the flip flops, underwear and pots and pans. There was no TV, no internet, and a mountain blocked the radio from reaching the house. So we knitted on the front veranda, looking at the sea. She taught me intarsia and double stranded knitting so casually it didn’t occur to me that these were supposed to be advanced techniques.
Growing up in New York City, my mother used to take me to the Yarn Co. on the Upper West Side. I could get lost in that place, wandering around the bright oranges and greens, the deep purples and peacock blues, the feathery eyelash yarns and the early kettle dyed yarns. Patty Lyons took my measurements, did the math and customized the patterns she sold me. She is still my knitting role model.
When I went off to college in Chicago, Ravelry was just getting started, and the internet made it suddenly easy to find patterns and learn new skills. The one thing I couldn’t find was nice yarn. There weren't many yarn stores, and as a broke college student I didn’t have fancy yarn money of my own.
I thought to myself, “If I make my own yarn, and dye it myself, I can have whatever colors I want, and it will be so much cheaper!!” I ended up buying a Kromski spinning wheel and a Hitchhiker portable wheel, and eventually a Lendrum wheel at Rhinebeck, where I met Gord Lendrum and gave him some candid feedback before I realized who he was. So no, spinning and dyeing my own yarn was not, in any way, the cheaper option. But it was worth it.
Years later, back in New York City, I no longer had time for the full sheep-to-yarn process, yet I couldn’t find the colors I really wanted. I wanted neon chartreuse and ultramarine! I wanted hot pink and teal and neon yellow rainbows! I wanted the dazzling colors of New York. Then everything shut down. During the pandemic, what had once seemed too time consuming to do, suddenly I had endless time for. I quickly went down the rabbit hole of dyeing yarn, with new techniques and new colors and new professional grade powdered dyes.
From there, the idea of Big City Sheep was born. A small independent hand-dyed yarn business based in New York City, selling vivid colors inspired by the City that Never Sleeps. My Greek grandmother would have loved it. And I am sure you will too.
<3 Daphne
