Sometimes, the best things take time. And the Nydia Hat? Oh, it almost didn’t happen.

It all started in 2021, just days after I finished knitting the Nydia pullover. With one last skein of that gorgeous DK-weight yarn in hand, I imagined a matching hat with the same textured stitch and lateral braid detail. I cast on, expecting to finish it by the weekend.

But, as knitters do, I got distracted. Another project called my name—a sweater!—and the hat got set aside. Weeks turned into months, and it quietly waited while I worked on other, ironically larger, projects.

I rediscovered the nearly finished hat in early 2022, picked it up again, but something wasn’t quite right. The crown shaping wasn’t working the way I wanted. So, once more, it was tucked away.

Fast forward to early 2023—testers were finishing up the Nydia Cardigan when a few asked if there would be a matching hat. That sparked something. The excitement came rushing back. I couldn’t find my original project, but I remembered the details well enough. So I cast on again. And this time? Everything clicked. The crown shaping, which had eluded me before, came together in a single day.

Then I knit another. And another. I experimented with different DK weight yarns, adjusted stitch placements, and fine-tuned the details. Before I knew it, the Nydia Hat had evolved into not just one but two variations, graded to fit the whole family.

A dedicated group of knitters joined me for a whirlwind two-week test knit, and many couldn’t stop at just one. I was ready to release the pattern in April, but life got busy—work, schedules, and a few attempted photoshoots (even while on vacation) all delayed things. Before I knew it, summer had arrived and I still hadn’t released the pattern. The hats waited patiently, unfazed, stacked neatly while I tried to find the perfect moment.

And finally, that moment came. The right day, the right light, the right photos—it all clicked into place. And just like that, the Nydia Hat was ready for the world.

Sometimes, the best things take time. And the Nydia Hat? Oh, it almost didn’t happen.

It all started in 2021, just days after I finished knitting the Nydia pullover. With one last skein of that gorgeous DK-weight yarn in hand, I imagined a matching hat with the same textured stitch and lateral braid detail. I cast on, expecting to finish it by the weekend.

But, as knitters do, I got distracted. Another project called my name—a sweater!—and the hat got set aside. Weeks turned into months, and it quietly waited while I worked on other, ironically larger, projects.

I rediscovered the nearly finished hat in early 2022, picked it up again, but something wasn’t quite right. The crown shaping wasn’t working the way I wanted. So, once more, it was tucked away.

Fast forward to early 2023—testers were finishing up the Nydia Cardigan when a few asked if there would be a matching hat. That sparked something. The excitement came rushing back. I couldn’t find my original project, but I remembered the details well enough. So I cast on again. And this time? Everything clicked. The crown shaping, which had eluded me before, came together in a single day.

Then I knit another. And another. I experimented with different DK weight yarns, adjusted stitch placements, and fine-tuned the details. Before I knew it, the Nydia Hat had evolved into not just one but two variations, graded to fit the whole family.

A dedicated group of knitters joined me for a whirlwind two-week test knit, and many couldn’t stop at just one. I was ready to release the pattern in April, but life got busy—work, schedules, and a few attempted photoshoots (even while on vacation) all delayed things. Before I knew it, summer had arrived and I still hadn’t released the pattern. The hats waited patiently, unfazed, stacked neatly while I tried to find the perfect moment.

And finally, that moment came. The right day, the right light, the right photos—it all clicked into place. And just like that, the Nydia Hat was ready for the world.

I put on the TV show Gilmore Girls one afternoon in the summer of 2020 to keep my dog distracted from the sounds of fireworks. I'd never watched it before, and I was just looking for background noise. Instead, I immediately fell in love—with the characters, with the rapid-fire dialogue and the way everyone knew each other. With Stars Hollow.

My husband’s cousin had been obsessed with this show for years, and she talked about it constantly. Now I understood why.

Fast forward to January 2021, shortly after I had finished binge watching all seven seasons, Lady Dye Yarns reached out to ask if I'd be interested in a Gilmore Girls-inspired collaboration. One skein. Something magic. My answer (yes!) came pretty much as fast as anything Lorelai or Rory would have said.

As I was trying to design the pattern, I kept thinking about the hats they wore. I looked through pictures of them online and found inspiration in one of Lorelai’s: a gray, ribbed beanie with a folded brim. I loved the simplicity of it, but I also wanted more. I wanted to capture that magical "I smell snow . . ." feeling and the charm of Stars Hollow itself.

So I added strands between the ribbed columns. And then I added beads. They were the perfect finishing touch to elevate this knit. They catch the light and make it feel like winter magic, not just a winter hat. Like there's something more happening beneath the surface, the way there always is in Stars Hollow.

If you're the kind of person who gets a little thrill hearing the opening notes of that familiar theme song, who believes that coffee is a food group, and who secretly wishes they could move to a quirky Connecticut town, then this pattern was made for you. Maybe it's the project you'll work on the next time you tune into the Knitathon ("Knit, People, Knit!") or listen in on a town meeting. Wherever you knit or wear this hat, I hope it takes you back to when you first experienced the magic of this beloved on-screen town.

It all started during a dream weekend in Victoria, British Columbia—live music, incredible food, and an afternoon spent wandering through Victoria’s oldest yarn store, the Beehive Wool Shop (because obviously). I was there with one of my favorite people in the world—the kind of person who makes every moment brighter, every adventure more fun, and who appreciates handmade gifts like no one else.

That’s when she spotted it: a skein of rich, golden yarn, glowing like the late afternoon sun. She’s not a knitter, but I could see the way her eyes lit up, the way she held onto that skein just a little longer than necessary. That was all I needed. I just had to offer to make her something with it, and she excitedly said she’d love a hat. Something with an all-over, diamond-like stitch.

She also happens to love pineapples, and by pure coincidence the stitch pattern I chose for this hat actually made it look like one. So it was only fitting that this golden, textured beauty became affectionately known as her pineapple hat—a little bold, a little unexpected, and a whole lot of fun to wear.

Even to this day, she tells me when she's worn it and received compliments. People always ask where she got it, and she proudly tells them her cousin made it for her. And now? You can knit it for someone you love (or yourself) too.

In 2019, Lisa at Indie Untangled was putting together the third installment of an annual yarn club. The concept was pairing knitwear designers with indie yarn dyers, and each pair would create something together around a single theme: where we knit.

I was paired with Heather of Earl Grey Fiber Company, a fellow Washingtonian, for the August 2020 collaboration, and we both wanted to capture that end-of-summer feeling—those warm evenings in the Pacific Northwest when you’re outdoors somewhere and in the company of friends and family. I wanted to design something that would actually be worn that way. Something you’d wear around a campfire or that you’d pull on with flannel for a hike or an evening stroll, not something too precious for the outdoors.

Heather and I chose her sport weight base for how it took dye, and we drew inspiration from a photo of a beautiful blue pot warming on a campfire. When the package arrived, I opened it and stopped in my tracks. The color. It was just what we’d imagined, with a depth and richness that represented those evenings exactly: warm, glowing, alive. I showed my husband immediately, and he saw it too. I couldn’t wait to cast on.

I started with a folded brim, something that sits close to the head and keeps the warmth in. And then I wanted the stitch patterns to feel like fire itself: something with flame-like cables that move and dance and lace that catches light like sparks. Wearable, grounded in where I actually knit.

What emerged was Emberly, a hat designed for the moments you actually live in. One that’s been waiting for your adventures all along.