Connect with us

Lifestyle

The designer who turned her pain into a colorful crochet brand (spotted on Kendrick Lamar)

Published

on

The designer who turned her pain into a colorful crochet brand (spotted on Kendrick Lamar)

Krysta Grasso, 27, is the owner of the crochet brand Unlikely Fox.

Surrounded by a sea of colorful yarn, 27-year-old Krysta Grasso lounged on her bed in her West Adams apartment as she crocheted a custom order.

With the yarn in one hand and a crochet hook in the other, she intricately worked in more of the neon pink, highlighter yellow and tortoise blue that she’d hand-dyed in her kitchen. When she was finished, she held up her creation: a fox-ear hat, one of her signature pieces.

Grasso’s crochet brand, Unlikely Fox, is having a shining moment — her designs have been spotted on several musicians, including Grammy award-winning rapper Kendrick Lamar, Malaya (who wore a hat during an NPR Tiny Desk performance) and Amindi.

Advertisement

Still, despite the recent fanfare, Grasso’s days haven’t changed much. This peaceful afternoon looks a lot like the ones she used to spend with her mother, Dunia, who taught her how to crochet when she was about 5. Together, they’d sit on the couch, watching cartoons and romantic comedies for hours as they crocheted everything from scarves to granny squares, which they sometimes turned into blankets.

Grasso enjoyed crocheting simply because “my mom did it,” she said of Dunia, whose signature is tattooed in red on her left forearm. “I just always wanted to be like her. Most of the things she did, I just wanted to do naturally.”

For many years, crocheting was just a hobby for Grasso, who goes by the nickname Fox. She comes from three generations of seamstresses in her Caribbean family — her grandmother owned a sewing boutique in the Chicago area, where Grasso grew up. As a teen, she would sell DIY clothes on Etsy. But it wasn’t until her mother suddenly died in June 2018 from cardiac arrest, just days after having a stroke, that Grasso started crocheting with a new vigor.

At first, it was her way of grieving, an attempt to find bits of joy within each day. And then it became something even more.

A photograph of Krysta Grasso and her late mother, Dunia, is displayed in Grasso’s bedroom and crochet studio.

Advertisement

Krysta Grasso, who is owner of Unlikely Fox, likes to keep the strings loose on her crochet products to showcase the amount of colors and textures she uses.

“After she passed, I realized how deeply connected my crocheting was to her,” Grasso said of her mom, who raised three kids on her own. “I was really motivated to start doing it for a living.”

As she crocheted, Grasso would listen to the Spotify playlists her mom made, which were filled with reggaeton, R&B and soul tracks, and watch their favorite Christmas films. Grasso made vibrant colored hats, swimwear and sweaters. She also started designing crochet sleeves and front hoodie pockets, which she added to vintage T-shirts. “When I’m sad, I tend to gravitate to bright colors,” she said.

Advertisement

While Grasso looked for a job in L.A., she began selling her products at the popular Melrose Trading Post. At the time, she was one of a few crochet artists there. She didn’t make much money in the beginning, but she always received the same compliment from patrons. “People would say, ‘I’ve never seen anything like this before,’” she said, adding that they were intrigued by her use of color.

She eventually found a job as a server at a restaurant but was laid off when the pandemic hit. With more free time, she began experimenting with color and hand-dying her own yarn for her crochet work. The hours-long process goes like this: She soaks yarn in citric acid, then places it in a pan on the stove that’s filled with a mix of hot water and dye and lets it sit for a set amount of time to absorb the color. This can take anywhere from 30 minutes to two hours. Afterward, she takes the pan off the heat to let the yarn cool off, then washes it and lets it dry.

“Color is the thing that I love most about the entire craft,” she said, adding that she’s also intrigued by various textures. In one piece, for example, the fox-ear hat, Grasso may use up to 25 combinations of different colors. She likes to keep the strings loose on her pieces — a distinct style choice — to show how many colors and fibers she uses in her products. No two items are ever the same.

Grasso may use up to 25 combinations of colors for her most vibrant crochet projects.

Advertisement

A tattoo of Grasso’s mother’s name, Dunia. Grasso uses a mix of fibers — mohair, merino wool, cotton, silk, recycled fibers and dead stock acrylic. (Zay Monae/For The Times)

Grasso typically uses a mixture of fibers — mohair, merino wool, cotton, silk, recycled fibers and dead stock acrylic — to avoid buying too much acrylic yarn, which often ends up in landfills because it is produced in abundance and isn’t used quickly enough, she said. The higher-priced fibers are the reason her hats sell for $190 and clothing pieces cost $300 to $1,500.

Advertisement

In early 2021, Grasso started selling skeins of her hand-dyed yarn online, which were a hit. When she released a collection called the “Steven Universe” Yarn Club, based on the Cartoon Network animated series, she made nearly $10,000 in two days off the yarn, which was about $25 to $30 per skein.

“I was incredibly surprised. I’d never had a drop that big. Things definitely changed,” she said. She was working at a bookstore at the time, but this made her realize that she could potentially make Unlikely Fox her main source of income.

Soon after, she quit her job and continued doing monthly yarn drops, which were all inspired by animated shows, video games and movies she liked, including “Chowder,” “Animal Crossing,” “Rick and Morty” and “The Princess and the Frog.”

By that fall, Grasso was selling at the Black Market Flea, a monthly flea market that is brimming with clothing brands and handmade goods, all designed and crafted by Black artisans. Before long, her Unlikely Fox products were selling out, and she was able to make half her income from the market and the other half from her monthly yarn drops.

“I think the Black Market Flea was my target audience,” she said. “Those are my peers, and I think it was much easier to communicate what I was doing to people who looked like me, rather than being a small group of people of color and Black people in such a huge white space.”

Advertisement

Krysta Grasso said each item she crochets is personal and feels like “a piece of me.”

There aren’t many times that you’ll see Grasso without a crochet hook and yarn in her hands.

Stephanie Smith first met Grasso when she was crocheting outside a coffee shop in Leimert Park a couple years ago.

“She was so zoned in and just doing it with ease, and I just thought that was so cool,” said Smith, a photographer, returning customer and now close friend of Grasso. “It was refreshing to see a younger woman crocheting.”

Advertisement

Smith owns about 10 of Grasso’s pieces, including a matching set — a wrap skirt and a bustier-style top with removable sleeves — that she customized for her 26th birthday. “I’ve bought other crochet items [from other designers], but her’s are woven way tighter, and her colors really stand out to me.” Each time Smith wears an Unlikely Fox piece, people flag her down to ask where she got it, she said.

Smith said she appreciates Grasso’s pieces even more because of how personal they are to her.

“I won’t ever get rid of these pieces ever because I feel like it’s a part of my friend and it’s also a part of her mother,” she said.

If you follow Grasso on social media, you know who her mother is. Dunia’s face, which is almost identical to Grasso‘s, is plastered across Grasso’s Instagram feed, and Grasso’s bio says simply “Dunia’s daughter.” Grasso has locs similar to those worn by her mom; she got hers shortly after her mom died. She is also candid online about days when her grief strikes even harder, and she shares the activities she does to help boost her mood, like crocheting and running.

Krysta Grasso with a picture of her late mother, Dunia, who taught her how to crochet when she was 5.

Advertisement

For Grasso, talking about her mom and her grieving process is a necessity. “I think I just have to,” she said. “When I don’t, I feel awful.”

Grasso opens up about her experience online not only because it helps her “but I also want to encourage people to grieve more outwardly. I think just the act of speaking about something, whether it’s painful or not, is really powerful.”

At times, it can feel conflicting for Grasso to sell her crochet work because it’s “a piece of me,” she said. For this reason, she recently shifted from doing flea markets regularly to focusing more on making commission-based pieces and selling limited drops online. That way, she doesn’t have to persuade anyone to buy her work, she said.

She isn’t focusing on Unlikely Fox full time anymore because it was getting “intense.” This has given her the freedom to expand her business slowly and intentionally.

Advertisement

A crocheted sweater from Unlikely Fox’s collection.

She didn’t grow up with a lot of money, she said, “so I know that I will be OK with less.”

In the fall, Grasso will be moving to Portland, Ore., to pursue a bachelor’s degree in graphic design, which she’s been passionate about for years. She plans to continue selling her crochet pieces and doing monthly drops on the Unlikely Fox website. Her long-term goal is to become a full-time knitwear designer and further her career in fashion.

When Grasso reflects on the brand she’s built in her mother’s memory, she says Dunia would think “it’s really cool.”

Advertisement

“I visualize the version of us that could’ve got to live longer together, and I think the two of us would’ve become even cooler people together,” Grasso said, as she stood in her bedroom and studio, which is filled with photos of her mom. “I think she’s proud. I think she just wants me to find my own [way] and not be influenced by the things that are around me and the people around me.”

She smiled and added, “I think she just wants me to keep going.”

Advertisement

Lifestyle

Mundane, magic, maybe both — a new book explores ‘The Writer’s Room’

Published

on

Mundane, magic, maybe both — a new book explores ‘The Writer’s Room’

There’s a three-story house in Baltimore that looks a bit imposing. You walk up the stone steps before even getting up to the porch, and then you enter the door and you’re greeted with a glass case of literary awards. It’s The Clifton House, formerly home of Lucille Clifton.

The National Book Award-winning poet lived there with her husband, Fred, starting in 1967 until the bank foreclosed on the house in 1980. Clifton’s daughter, Sidney Clifton, has since revived the house and turned it into a cultural hub, hosting artists, readings, workshops and more. But even during a February visit, in the mid-afternoon with no organized events on, the house feels full.

The corner of Lucille Clifton's bedroom, where she would wake up and write in the mornings

The corner of Lucille Clifton’s bedroom, where she would wake up and write in the mornings

Andrew Limbong/NPR


hide caption

Advertisement

toggle caption

Andrew Limbong/NPR

“There’s a presence here,” Clifton House Executive Director Joël Díaz told me. “There’s a presence here that sits at attention.”

Advertisement

Sometimes, rooms where famous writers worked can be places of ineffable magic. Other times, they can just be rooms.

The Writer’s Room: The Hidden Worlds That Shape the Books We Love

Princeton University Press

Katie da Cunha Lewin is the author of the new book, The Writer’s Room: The Hidden Worlds That Shape the Books We Love, which explores the appeal of these rooms. Lewin is a big Virginia Woolf fan, and the very first place Lewin visited working on the book was Monk’s House — Woolf’s summer home in Sussex, England. On the way there, there were dreams of seeing Woolf’s desk, of retracing Woolf’s steps and imagining what her creative process would feel like. It turned out to be a bit of a disappointment for Lewin — everything interesting was behind glass, she said. Still, in the book Lewin writes about how she took a picture of the room and saved it on her phone, going back to check it and re-check it, “in the hope it would allow me some of its magic.”

Let’s be real, writing is a little boring. Unlike a band on fire in the recording studio, or a painter possessed in their studio, the visual image of a writer sitting at a desk click-clacking away at a keyboard or scribbling on a piece of paper isn’t particularly exciting. And yet, the myth of the writer’s room continues to enrapture us. You can head to Massachusetts to see where Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women. Or go down to Florida to visit the home of Zora Neale Hurston. Or book a stay at the Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald Museum in Alabama, where the famous couple lived for a time. But what, exactly, is the draw?

Advertisement

Lewin said in an interview that whenever she was at a book event or an author reading, an audience question about the writer’s writing space came up. And yes, some of this is basic fan-driven curiosity. But also “it started to occur to me that it was a central mystery about writing, as if writing is a magic thing that just happens rather than actually labor,” she said.

In a lot of ways, the book is a debunking of the myths we’re presented about writers in their rooms. She writes about the types of writers who couldn’t lock themselves in an office for hours on end, and instead had to find moments in-between to work on their art. She covers the writers who make a big show of their rooms, as a way to seem more writerly. She writes about writers who have had their homes and rooms preserved, versus the ones whose rooms have been lost to time and new real estate developments. The central argument of the book is that there is no magic formula to writing — that there is no daily to-do list to follow, no just-right office chair to buy in order to become a writer. You just have to write.

Continue Reading

Lifestyle

Bruce Johnston Retiring From The Beach Boys After 61 Years

Published

on

Bruce Johnston Retiring From The Beach Boys After 61 Years

Bruce Johnston
I’m Riding My Last Wave With The Beach Boys

Published

Advertisement

Advertisement

Advertisement

Advertisement

Continue Reading

Lifestyle

On the brink of death, a woman is saved by a stranger and his family

Published

on

On the brink of death, a woman is saved by a stranger and his family

In 1982, Jean Muenchrath was injured in a mountaineering accident and on the brink of death when a stranger and his family went out of their way to save her life.

Jean Muenchrath


hide caption

toggle caption

Advertisement

Jean Muenchrath

In early May 1982, Jean Muenchrath and her boyfriend set out on a mountaineering trip in the Sierra Nevada, a mountain range in California. They had done many backcountry trips in the area before, so the terrain was somewhat familiar to both of them. But after they reached one of the summits, a violent storm swept in. It began to snow heavily, and soon the pair was engulfed in a blizzard, with thunder and lightning reverberating around them.

“Getting struck and killed by lightning was a real possibility since we were the highest thing around for miles and lightning was striking all around us,” Muenchrath said.

To reach safer ground, they decided to abandon their plan of taking a trail back. Instead, using their ice axes, they climbed down the face of the mountain through steep and icy snow chutes.

Advertisement

They were both skilled at this type of descent, but at one particularly difficult part of the route, Muenchrath slipped and tumbled over 100 feet down the rocky mountain face. She barely survived the fall and suffered life-threatening injuries.

This was before cellular or satellite phones, so calling for help wasn’t an option. The couple was forced to hike through deep snow back to the trailhead. Once they arrived, Muenchrath collapsed in the parking lot. It had been five days since she’d fallen.

 ”My clothes were bloody. I had multiple fractures in my spine and pelvis, a head injury and gangrene from a deep wound,” Muenchrath said.

Not long after they reached the trailhead parking lot, a car pulled in. A man was driving, with his wife in the passenger seat and their baby in the back. As soon as the man saw Muenchrath’s condition, he ran over to help.

 ”He gently stroked my head, and he held my face [and] reassured me by saying something like, ‘You’re going to be OK now. I’ll be right back to get you,’” Muenchrath remembered.

Advertisement

For the first time in days, her panic began to lift.

“My unsung hero gave me hope that I’d reach a hospital and I’d survive. He took away my fears.”

Within a few minutes, the man had unpacked his car. His wife agreed to stay back in the parking lot with their baby in order to make room for Muenchrath, her boyfriend and their backpacks.

The man drove them to a nearby town so that the couple could get medical treatment.

“I remember looking into the eyes of my unsung hero as he carried me into the emergency room in Lone Pine, California. I was so weak, I couldn’t find the words to express the gratitude I felt in my heart.”

Advertisement

The gratitude she felt that day only grew. Now, nearly 45 years later, she still thinks about the man and his family.

 ”He gave me the gift of allowing me to live my life and my dreams,” Muenchrath said.

At some point along the way, the man gave Muenchrath his contact information. But in the chaos of the day, she lost it and has never been able to find him.

 ”If I knew where my unsung hero was today, I would fly across the country to meet him again. I’d hug him, buy him a meal and tell him how much he continues to mean to me by saving my life. Wherever you are, I say thank you from the depths of my being.”

My Unsung Hero is also a podcast — new episodes are released every Tuesday. To share the story of your unsung hero with the Hidden Brain team, record a voice memo on your phone and send it to myunsunghero@hiddenbrain.org.

Advertisement
Continue Reading

Trending