UK Edition
Macramé: it’s knot like the Seventies
For those of a certain age, the word “macramé” might spark painful memories of fringed waistcoats, owl wall-hangings, and rope hammocks.
The craft of knot tying was the fad of the Seventies. You weren’t truly a free spirit unless you could knock out a macramé string purse. That was, until, like platforms and velvet kaftans, it disappeared into a vat of fondue and was gone.
More than forty years on you may feel it’s still too soon for a comeback, but macramé is having something of an extended moment in the sun. Thanks to the houseplant trend, and spearheaded by the likes of Portland-based Emily Katz, an interior designer and artist with a 142,000 Instagram following, the macramé revival is well under way. This time the overly fussy hangings and figurative designs have been ditched in favour of a more organic styling; recycled cotton in neutral tones, bleached driftwood and potted succulents reign.
For crafter Isabella Strambio, macramé is by far the most popular workshop that she organises; not only reflecting the Pinterest generation’s love of shareable interior design but also the accessibility of the craft, which requires few tools besides a pair of scissors and presents no difficult skills to master.
“I think people love the rustic feel to macramé and it’s also so versatile,” she says. “With inexpensive materials you can make a wall hanging, a wreath, bags, key rings – anything you want.”
Not clothes, though. “They’re a bit cheesy,” Strambio says. “My husband had an owl growing up. I think it was a big thing taught at school. It all became quite naff.”
Macramé dates back much further than the Seventies. Many ancient cultures feature knot craft, but macramé weaving has its popular roots in 13th-century Arabic culture. Spreading to Europe via Moorish southern Spain, the Spanish word macramé is derived from the Arabic migramah, believed to mean “striped towel”, “ornamental fringe” or “embroidered veil”. It was all the rage in the Victorian era, too.
Formerly an interior designer, Italian-born Strambio started her blog twome.co.uk in May 2016 as something to do once her children went to bed. Her personal challenge was to learn 12 new crafts in 12 months.
“Macramé was my first craft. And then people started asking me to teach them. A friend said I should be doing a workshop, So I did, and it was fully booked. I just rolled on from that.”
In July 2017, she took the leap and quit her day job. That August, she and her husband, also an interior designer, moved from London to Hampshire. And now, while the girls are at school, she works on her crafts, teaches workshops, and tries to find time to learn more crafts.
“It’s definitely therapeutic, and you can lose yourself. Crafting and making my own designs was so refreshing. Then when I realised I could turn it into a profession, I was like, why not?”
At least once a month she returns to London to teach a macramé workshop at venues like Mercato Metropolitano. A planter workshop takes about an hour and a half, while a hanging is two-and-a-half hours. “They’re really great fun. If it’s a morning session we’ll have breakfast. Or people will have prosecco or a cocktail later in the day.” She sells online as well, and accepts commissions.
“I’m making a big arch for a wedding in August, and the save the dates were mini macramé hangings.”
Today Strambio is going to show me how to make a planter.
Materials used in macramé include cords made of cotton twine, linen, hemp, jute, leather or yarn. We’re using recycled T-shirt yarn, which has more give in it than some of the other strings she has in her workshop. She has done the hardest part for me; measuring out the amount of material needed to make 12 strands and gathering it together with a knot.
Strambio is going to show me the basics: namely, the square knot and the half-hitch. “Ninety-eight per cent of macramé planters use these two,” she says. “The square knot is the one you see everywhere.”
We’re working standing up and using a clothes rail, easier than laying the work on a table. Our 12 lengths of yarn are separated out into three groups of four. For the first knotted rope, I take four strands, two sit in the middle, two on the side, and take the piece from the furthest left and make a number four shape. I then take a piece from the far right, which comes over and then inside and pull through the loop. “You always start from the left,” says Strambio. “To complete the square you do another number four, this time starting from the right.”
After a few knots I repeat the same with another four strands, and then the final four strands to create my three distinct ropes. I then leave a gap and start our second knot; the half-square knot. “This is the spiralling one you might have seen before. To do it, you simply do half a square knot, starting from the left, and then keep repeating from the left.”
The effects are quick and immediate. Strambio says that it takes her less than 30 minutes to complete a hanger. As with knitting, keeping the tension tight but not too tight is key.
I get a nice rhythm going, although Strambio periodically jumps in to tidy up my knots and make sure the three ropes are balanced and symmetrical. A gathering knot then finishes everything off.
While you can make a planter and hanging from just the basic knots Strambio has shown me, there are plenty of others. The vertical, horizontal and diagonal half-hitch make a lovely, smooth continuous loop.
Another, which she calls a popcorn knot, looks wonderful when uniformly repeated. Sharing her skills is what really excites her.
She is also a fan of natural dyes; no avocado skins go in the bin in her house. She shows me twine dyed with hibiscus and pomegranate.
A pot is placed in my planter, but I’m not quite Instagram-ready. Strambio has left the strands for me to embellish as I see fit at home. While the fashion in the 21st century might be minimalist cool, there’s no reason not to go wild and express yourself.
“There are amazing macramé artists who weave fabric and yarns into their macramé to give them texture. You can use beads, crystals, ribbons,” explains Strambio.
The word “crystals” conjures up a hippy nightmare. Back home, I get out a pair of scissors and cut them off to make a neat tassel.
Sometimes it’s necessary to make a clear break with the past.