Our Grandfathers’ Knitting Needles

The Navajo, or Diné, as we call ourselves, are world-renowned for mastering the art of textile weaving. But little does that same world know that we have also been knitters. Knitting is known to us as Yistłeh Yistłoh, yistłeh referring to a knee-length leg wrapping and yistłoh to the art of weaving, fiber art, or in this case, knitting. In preparation to write this piece, I’ve reached out to two fellow Diné fiber artists, R.G. Sherman of Navajo Mountain, Utah, and Ron Garnanez of Oak Spring, Arizona. R.G. is known for weaving large textiles in natural colors, enhanced with red and blue details. Ron Garnanez is also a weaver, known for his chief-style blankets and use of mohair. Both weavers are also shepherds who also happen to have a knack for knitting.

Ceremonial Knits, Traditional Knitting

Growing up, my father and eldest brother took part in winter ceremonies, and it was my job to shine their silver conchos, dust off their moccasins, and make sure their knitted leggings made it into their packs. As a weaver, I was always so curious about their bulky knitted leggings. My brother’s pair are solid black tubes. [PAYWALL] However, my father’s pair starts solid black at the base, and just before the leggings were cast off the needles, the knitter incorporated red, white, and green. The pattern that looks like what we call jaad neezí, or small woven belts that help keep the leggings secure just below the knee. Many pairs of leggings have a stirrup-like strap that helps keep the lower part of the leggings secured to the wearer’s feet.

The red, white, and green stripes at the top of these leggings resemble small woven belts that hold leggings just below the knee. Photo by Nikyle Begay

When I spoke to R.G. about knitting within Diné culture, they confirmed something that my father had told me when I was younger: that knitting was done primarily by Diné men. I can only speculate as to why Diné men took on this form of fiber art, which is that it stems from a traditional teaching that ceremonial regalia is not to be fashioned nor touched by women. Because when the regalia is used, it invokes spiritual energy that could potentially harm a woman’s ability to bear children or affect an unborn child. We also have a belief that women who are pregnant should refrain from tying knots, as tying knots causes complications during birth. These are superstitions that carried a lot of weight in the old days, so I’m sure it’s what drove the art of knitting to become known as “men’s work” within our culture.

Earlier this summer, I visited Ron at his sheep camp, which is nestled almost at the base of Shiprock Pinnacle. I had hoped to easily get his take on knitting within our culture, but instead I was put to work! We sat on the cool dirt floor of his two-sided shelter; we sought refuge beneath its tin roof from the heat as we sheared his angora goats. Ron began to tell me that the art of using natural fibers—those harvested from soft barks, yucca, dogs, and fibers left on rocks where wild animals would scratch—to create woven and knitted wears, has always been a part of our stories in the Southwest. The Ancestral Pueblo used twining, looping, and even språng-like techniques to create wearable fabrics fashioned into shirts, leggings, and socks. He said through interactions with the ancestors, we learned to fashion pieces of wood, sometimes bone, into double-pointed needles to knit in the round.

Knitting Techniques and Embellishments

My father recalls his grandfather, who also participated in winter ceremonies, wrapping a piece of baling wire around his ankle and cutting it to size. My great-grandfather explained that it was easier to add “loops” to a small piece of wire, controlling the size of the knitted leggings, than it was to knit a fitted set on a longer piece. R.G. was most fortunate to inherit their grandfather’s set of needles, which are made of repurposed, dismantled umbrella ribs. They explained that the hinge edges and tips were filed down until smooth and rounded off. One umbrella would make plenty of double pointed needles for knitting in the round.

Unlike fragments found at Ancestral Pueblo sites, which often were more like lace knits or netting, pieces made by Diné men were tightly knit out of bulky yarn. “These gaiter-type stockings were knitted in garter stitch, and the part that came up to knee often times had a decorative border added in stockinette stitch; this made a low-relief raised stitching,” described R.G. “This decorative part was similar to traditional pottery, having a decorative rope-like appearance on its edge, with a break in the design to emulate a way out—a spirit line.” The long tail that is left over from the initial cast-on would be chain-plied and tied to the opposite end of the leg wrapping to create a sort of a stirrup that held the leggings in place.

The yarns of the decorative stripes on these leggings are twisted together to create fringe. Photo by Nikyle Begay

Throughout time, Diné knits were embellished with pieces of turquoise or small silver buttons and sometimes coins. The knitter and/or wearer would make their pieces unique to their liking. Fragments of knitted fabrics from ancestral Diné burials have been found to use multiple colors of yarn, dyed with ochre and other plant dyes, to create vertical and horizontal stripes. In recent years, with the affordability of synthetic yarns, a variety of colors have been used to knit traditional wears. From the mid-1960’s to the early 1980s, blue acrylic yarn replaced black wherever it was traditionally used. The edging went from raised decorative stitching to knitting a traditional “sash belt” design around the edge of the leggings, even fashioning twisted tassels like a woven counterpart.

Unfortunately, with the slow erosion of traditional culture due to colonialism, knitting became almost a lost art within our culture. But there are a few young Diné men and non-binary Diné persons, who participate in winter ceremonies, who are reviving the art of knitting within Diné culture.

Nikyle Begay (they/them) is a Diné shepherd, fiber artist, and teacher based in Ganado, Arizona, on the Navajo Nation. Nikyle is the Director of Rainbow Fiber Co-Op and brings a wealth of knowledge and expertise to the project. Nikyle has experience working in technology and the nonprofit sector, as well as an extensive background in sheep flock management, wool production, traditional wool processing, and the weaving arts. You can find them on Instagram @navajoshepherd.