My mum taught me to knit when I was five, along with many other crafts. Like a lot of people, I’ve dipped in and out of different creative hobbies over the years, but knitting has always been the one that stayed with me.
I grew up using steel knitting needles tucked under my arm, just like my mum. I didn’t even realise needles came in other materials when I was younger. Later, I remember spotting fancy bamboo needles in a shop. They seemed expensive, and why would I need them? I already had a huge supply of steel ones. At some point I must have tried a poor-quality wooden pair—the yarn snagged, caught, and irritated me—so I dismissed the entire idea and carried on as usual.
Years later, when I was selling my handmade gloves and hats at craft fairs, I was knitting for hours every day. That’s when the problems started: my hands began to ache, and I had to scale back. I was devastated.
Then, during a brief chat with a woman at one of those fairs (I wish I’d caught her name—I’d love to tell her what a difference she made), she said something that completely changed things for me:
“Every time your metal needles clack together, they send shockwaves through your joints.”
That one small sentence changed everything. I bought a decent pair of bamboo needles—and the difference was immediate.
When I was younger, I worked long restaurant shifts in high stiletto heels on stone floors. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but taking those shoes off at the end of a shift and slipping into soft, flat slippers felt like heaven.
It might sound dramatic, but switching from steel needles to wood felt exactly like that for my hands. No clacking. No jarring. Just softness. The relief was almost instant.
Fast forward to today: I still knit for many hours at a time. I sometimes need to ease off or switch techniques to avoid strain, but I honestly can’t imagine where my hands would be if I’d never switched from metal needles.
I was reminded of this again last year when I needed 2.5 mm short circulars for some sleeves. My local shop only had metal-tipped ones. It didn’t take long before my hands felt the impact. I had to limit how much I did each day because they reminded me—loudly—why I stopped using metal needles.
When I go to wool shows now, it breaks my heart when women look at my work and sadly reminisce about the things they used to make, but can’t anymore because their hands won’t allow it. For some, it’s simply too late. But I always ask: “Do you use metal or wooden needles?”
Most say metal—often inherited from their mums—just as I used to think, I already have plenty, why buy more? But I always encourage them to give wooden needles a try. If they add even a few extra years of comfortable crafting, they’re worth every penny.
I’ll be honest: I haven’t explored every type of needle out there. There are so many, and you can spend a lot if you want to—but you don’t have to.
So I’m curious: What’s your favourite type or brand of needle?
Happy knitting. 🧶💙