A Decade in Yarn: Lessons from knitting the 1980s in temperature data
Knitting the 1980s blanket was the first time I completed a full decade of temperature data. Each row represents one day of average temperature, using one colour to cover three degrees of temperature. I didn’t start this decade expecting big revelations. I was focused on getting through the data, one year at a time. But once the decade was finished and sewn together, it became clear that the 1980s blanket had lessons to offer, not just about climate change, but about scale, patience, and what it means to really sit with long-term data.
Size and Symmetry Matter
Working on the 1980s blanket taught me more than I expected - both in terms of knitting and about communicating climate data. One of the first lessons I noticed was about the width of each year’s section. I realized that the year sections don’t need to be so wide, but they should all be the same size. Narrower sections make the blanket less huge and easier to photograph, while consistent sizing keeps it tidy, symmetrical, and visually satisfying. I learned this the hard way. I accidentally made one year wider and noticed it only partway through. When I started sewing the sections together, the full size and weight of the blanket really hit me. It was heavy, bulky, and definitely not a summer activity.
Patience, Focus, and Anticipation
Beyond the practical considerations, the project taught me a lot about patience, focus, and managing anticipation. There was a level of excitement I didn’t expect. When I finally saw the decade completed, it was overwhelming. Even though there are still (at least) ten more decades to knit, finishing just one has already made a visible impression. I tend to get bored easily, but focusing on one year at a time makes the work manageable and calming. Knitting the 1980s blanket has taught me patience, confidence, and the importance of rest; especially the need to rest my brain.
What People Notice First
People notice different things when they see the blanket. Most often, the first comment is about how long summers are, and they are drawn to the colours. For a quick glance, that’s fine. But I hope that with more time, people understand that each row represents real temperature data. They can see short-term variations, but they also see the long-term trends that show climate change. When I explain this, I point out anomalies or “colours out of place” to highlight that while climate change is long-term, there will still be blips in the weather or temperature we experience. This is different from climate change.
The Power of Physical Interaction
The tactile element of the blanket has been surprising too. People want to touch it, which makes me nervous because it’s delicate work, but it also shows how physical interaction helps people connect with the data. This makes me excited about the idea of showing the blankets in galleries, museums, or talks. A series of blankets could spark meaningful conversations within families, communities, and even with policy-makers.
Lessons for Future Decades
The 1980s blanket also taught me practical lessons. The size and width were bigger than I expected, and I would advise myself to use smaller needle sizes or thinner rows next time, and to document the process more thoroughly. Smaller sections make knitting and photographing the blanket easier, and better documentation will let me see the full progress across decades.
Takeaway for Climate Action
Finally, the biggest takeaway isn’t just about knitting - it’s about climate action. I hope that people who see the blanket take a moment to learn more about climate change in their own area, understand its impact, and start thinking about what they can do to adapt today. The 1980s blanket is one decade, one story, but it shows how even a single completed decade can make a difference in understanding, connecting, and inspiring action.
