All images from Knit the City
We have heard of guerrilla gardeners, planting gardens in public spaces under the cover of night. Now we have guerrilla knitters and bring them on.
They are a clandestine group of "woolly warriors" who decorate London landmarks with their knitted goods. They leave a tag: Knit the City and photos on their blog. Where they will turn up next, no one knows. They live by the rule that "a true yarnstorm comes from within the dark heart of each sneaky stitcher." Watch carefully when you walk.
Knit the City call their "attacks" yarnstorms rather than the American term yarnbomb. They changed the name "as a move away from any terrorist associations, being of a gentler disposition. The Yarn Corps feel a bit sheepish about being labelled as dastardly yarn terrorists. We live in a city where 'bomb' is possibly not the best word to bandy about, even if it is woolly. But everyone likes a storm."
They are witty and clever and sophisticated, but who are they? With names like Deadly Knitshade, Bluestocking Stitcher, and the Purple Purler, Lady Loop and the Knitting Ninja, we will never know their true identity. How to join? They will find you, you will never find them.
Images from Knit the City
Where to find them? All over London. Their Christmas present was a celebration of the Nutcracker Suite. They decorated the ballerina statue in front of Covent Garden Opera House. Creating little soldiers, flower girls and snowflake dancers, with the prince poised on the ballerina's head, a whole world unfolded on the snowy streets.
You can imagine the fun that they had on Hallowe'en night. They focused their efforts on the rust-covered gateway to an abandoned tube station and created their own City of Ghouls.
St. Martins church
In celebration of the olde song "Oranges and Lemons" they set out to decorate all the churches and places mentioned in the song.
"Oranges and lemons," said the bells of St Clements,
"You owe me five farthings," said the bells of St Martins,
"When will you pay me?" said the bells of Old Bailey,
"When I grow rich," said the bells of Shoreditch,
"When will that be?" said the bells of Stepney,
"I do not know," said the great bells of Bow.