Hats in Kichijoji

No trip to Kichijoji would be complete without a visit to at least one yarn store. Though Sheeps Meadow was closed last Thursday, Avril was not only open but in the midst of an exhibition of hats from the shop's new book. Downstairs, Avril features a wide array of yarns, most sold by the gram and stored on cardboard cones hung from the wall. Just look at all those colors and textures! The pure whites are simply sumptuous. In addition to a good sales tactic, the wall-mounted display is a marvelous decorative element.









Suspended from the ceiling upstairs was an array of caps made from the book. Shaped like a strawberry shortcake or adorned with a wooly sheep, each one was more fanciful than the next.







I particularly liked the chunky, finger knit cap and the nubbly crocheted tam. Too bad I have such an aversion to crochet needles. It is hard for me to imagine wearing some of these outrageous creations but they would probably be pretty fun to make.









Having had our fill of hats, we decided it was time to head home. When we boarded the Shibuya-bound train, we were quite surprised by this young woman with her pink, feathered bonnet. What was she thinking? I believe in a hat with attitude but this one was over the top.

Urchin Pouf

I am really taken with the Urchin Pouf. I know it looks like a giant chrysanthemum but it is actually an ottoman made of wool. Measuring about 2 feet in diameter, it is the product of a Dutch designer. I saw it in a gallery in Ebisu where I was interviewing an architect-turned-clothing designer from Osaka. The knitted exterior consists of very thick, felted strands of Delft blue "yarn." It conceals a slightly flattened orb of a cushion. The proportions, shape, color and, of course, knit surface are all extremely eye-pleasing. It would look great in our living room.

Stonehedge Fiber Mill

As summer slides into fall, I find my thoughts drifting back to those lovely July days. One day, while visiting Abby at Interlochen, I had an unexpected few hours of free time that turned into a wonderful, woolly adventure.

After savoring Abby's morning choir rehearsal, I hopped into my rented roadster and headed towards town -- don't blink or you'll miss it. My first stop was InterQuilten where I was pleasantly surprised to find not just garden variety fabrics but a few skeins of local yarn. My favorite was the hand spun, 100% Coopworth wool in Pink Lemonade, a loose twist of light green and pink plies. Unfortunately there was not enough quantity for even a short scarf. I bought it anyway.

In the hope of finding more, the shop's jovial proprietress got on the horn with Amy, the author of said yarn. Her own stash depleted, Amy kindly steered me towards the Stonehedge Fiber Mill, the best local yarn producer in northern Michigan. I momentarily debated whether to make the pilgrimage to East Jordan 65 miles away. But that hesitation did not last long. Equipped with wanderlust, a full tank of gas and a car-navi, I hit the road.

The drive was lovely. A real slice of Americana. As I got further from Traverse City, fast food joints gave way to farm stands. And the two-lane highway I took north was lined with cherry orchards (about 6 weeks too late), vast fields of sunflowers all gloriously in bloom, and endless rows of corn ready for the picking. Reader, this abundance was a heavenly sight. Eventually I headed eastward, via increasingly smaller roads, until I reached East Jordan, a charming little town with a main street defined by 19th and early 20th century buildings. After a brief pit stop, I headed off to find Stonehedge.




Even the dogs in East Jordan are happy!


This is the wool shop. What an enchanting place! Mostly Stonehedge is a spinnery that turns the boxes and boxes of raw wool that arrive daily from all over the country into yarn of every ply and color imaginable.



But the purpose of my trek was the yarn spun and dyed by the mill owner, Deb. Entering her shop, I felt like a kid in a candy store. While one wall was lined with a rainbow of Deb's worsted weights, the floor was laden with baskets brimming with artisan blends. It was very hard to decide which ones to buy. So I put off the decision and toured the mill first.


Delectable, yes?







Located in an adjacent building, the mill (entrance pictured above) consists of a couple of rooms with various machines that transform the airy fibers into everything from bulky arans to delicate sock yarns. Deb gave me a quick tour and then we went outside where I met some of her animals -- goats, guinea hens, sheep, dogs etc.







Evidently, Deb does not spin her own sheep wool but does harvest and sell yarn from her alpacas. I took a pass on the alpaca but left with plenty of wool to keep me knitting all fall.


Our heroine, Deb, plying her trade.

Arch (itecture) and Craft

What is it about site visits and yarn stores? Clearly they have an affinity for one another. I thought Viale was a real find. But Sheep Meadow is paradise on earth. Located on Kichijoji's tony Taisho Street, this wool emporium is laden with much, much more than three bags full.

The other day I went out to Kichijoji to see a 14-unit housing project recently completed by a well-known architect. It was a special preview for invited guests hosted by the architect before turning the project over to his client who will occupy one apartment and let the others. In anticipation of the area's commercial growth, the units were created expressly for renovation. Thanks to movable panels and other parts that pop out, they can be easily reborn as galleries or small shops when the inevitable spread occurs. What a breath of fresh air! Here in Japan shockingly few buildings are made to last and clients, especially residential ones, would much rather scrap and build than save and restore. Blurring the boundary between art and architecture, this project has a lot of charm and I wish it well. I would post a picture but then I might end up scooping myself.

After touring the site, I did an about face and set off back towards the train station. As I was curious about Kichijoji, I meandered a bit. An energetic and appealing area, it has the flavor of a mini-Shibuya minus the riff-raff. I ducked my head into a few shops and poked around but did not part with money. That is, until I encountered Sheep Meadow.

A few trans-Pacific crossings ago, I cut out an airline magazine article concerning a specialty yarn store in, you guessed it, Kichijoji. I figured that locating this tiny shop among the neighborhood's web of narrow streets would take some sleuthing. But when yarn is involved, I can be quite intrepid. On a lark, I went into a clothing boutique and asked the shopkeeper if she knew where I might find Sheep Meadow. Her response knocked the hand-knitted socks right off my feet! There it was ... directly across the street. I know. This sent chills up my spine too. It was obvious that Sheep Meadow and I were intended to meet. Thank you yarn gods.



Naturally, this serendipitous sequence of events made my find all the sweeter. This adorable shop fronts the street with plate glass windows decorated with a collection of little sheep. The entrance opens onto a petite sales floor with a circular table in the middle ringed with stools straight out of a milking barn. One entire wall holds cubbies filled with a spectrum of house-spun and dyed yarns. Rich reds and oranges, tender pinks and pale yellows, Delft blues and, my personal favorite ... the greens. Forest, lime, hunter and olive -- they are all there. This display was a feast for the eye and a pleasure to touch.



While perusing the offerings, I struck up a conversation with the owner. Apparently she recently switched over to her spring collection -- lots of cotton blends, a smattering of light wools and a few luscious silks -- all only a ply or two thick. Her concept is to pair and knit strands of two complimentary yarns together. Since the yarns knit up beautifully, I might give it a go if I can find a suitable pattern that calls for super skinny needles. The lacy product might be nice for a summer sweater or some such.



Of course I could not come away empty handed so I selected a little mohair and a skein apiece of a light wool and a satiny silk, both pink, that I might turn into a simple hat with a rolled brim. As I anted up, I mentioned that I had recently visited Viale. It turns out that the owner of Viale trained the owner of Sheep Meadow in the craft of spinning and dying. I always like small world stories with happy endings. And, judging from the broad smile on her face, Sheep Meadow's owner does too.

A Tokyo Yarn

A cautionary tale about losing a car and finding a yarn store.



It is not everyday that one has the good fortune to stumble upon a yarn store in Tokyo. But when I do, it is the cause for a minor celebration, or at least lifted spirits and a yarn purchase. A ball of beautiful yarn has so much potential! Just imagine the hat or scarf it could become!

The other day I went to interview an architect. I have visited this fellow several times but, like many young Tokyo designers, he keeps changing offices hermit crab style as his practice grows. The last time we met was the first time I visited him on the top floor of an old warehouse-type building in central Tokyo. On that occasion I elected to drive since his office is not far from my home but the subway route is a bit circuitous. When I found a friendly parking lot that seemed close to his office I ditched the car and decided to hoof it the rest of the way -- parking spaces can be very tight in Tokyo so I have learned to choose carefully.

After a few minutes on foot, I realized that none of the landmarks on the architect's map were anywhere in sight. So I did what any street savvy gaijin would do: hop a cab and let the driver sort it out! As I was more than a few minutes behind schedule, I was a bit agitated and kept looking at my watch instead of watching the route. Much to my chagrin, I was uncharacteristically late for the appointment and learned subsequently that the architect had even tried to locate me through another architect!

Well, the meeting went off without a hitch. After it ended, I went down to the street. And then it dawned on me. I had absolutely no idea where I had stowed my wheels. So I went first in one direction and then in another. And when that did not pan out, I tried a different street altogether. Still no luck and no car.

After more than 30 minutes of unfruitful wandering, I came upon a Jonathan's fast food restaurant. I knew there was another Jonathan's near the parking lot so I went inside and asked the counter lady where I might find it. Usually in Japan explanations can be avoided entirely with tidy catch-all phrases. But this time the waitress's puzzled look indicated I needed to clarify if I was to get the coveted information. I was too embarrassed to admit that I had lost my car so I pretended that I was meeting a friend at the other branch. My explanation led to a consultation in the kitchen followed by further interrogation followed, at last, by a hand drawn map. Sketch in hand, I set out once more. I made a few lefts, a few rights and finally ... Eureka! There was the Harrier, calmly waiting for me as if nothing had happened.

This time I decided not to take any chances and opted for the subway despite multiple line changes. While driving has helped me put the parts of the city together, subway and foot travel allow me to see and enjoy the fine points that I would otherwise miss. Tokyo is so full of nooks and crannies. Under most circumstances I do not mind getting lost -- there is always something interesting to look at. Viale, the yarn store I discovered near the architect's office, was no exception.



There is a lovely intimacy about this shop that begins the moment you come inside and trade your street shoes for their woven slippers. A step up leads you into another world. There Viale's treasure trove of yarn, each skein lovingly dyed and spun by the shop's artisan owner out back, are displayed artfully among looms, spinning wheels and beautifully crafted wood furniture. Made of silk and wool, the yarns are all colored exclusively with natural dyes that come from bugs, bark and other goodies. After much deliberation and banter with the proprietress, I selected three shades of purple wool with the plan of turning it into a hat.