When I first picked up knitting, I dove right in—no roadmap, no mentor, just me, my yarn, and a whole lot of trial and error. Looking back now, I realize how much confusion, frustration, and wasted yarn I could have avoided if someone had just shared a few basic truths with me early on.
Three years in, I’m still learning (and probably always will be). Knitting is a beautiful craft—challenging enough to keep things interesting, but forgiving enough to grow with you. Today, I want to share five things I wish I knew when I was just starting out. If you’re new to knitting, I hope this gives you a head start. If you’ve been at it for a while, maybe you’ll see something you wish someone had told you, too.
1. Gauge is (very) important
When I first started knitting, I used to “cheat” on gauge. I’d knit a small swatch, barely a few rows, and then measure it like it was enough. I’ve learned better since then—but I still keep those old pictures as a reminder.
The first item I ever made was a hat. It looked awesome—but it didn’t fit anyone. I thought that if I had the right yarn, the right needles, and followed the pattern exactly, everything would turn out fine. I was wrong.
Finishing that hat did give me two wins:
- I learned I could knit a hat.
- I could finish a knitting project from start to finish.
And for that, I’m proud of it.
Now the downside? The hat didn’t fit—not even the baby it was intended for! To be honest, it wasn’t a great yarn choice for a baby anyway. I used a super chunky yarn (beautiful, but way too thick), and the poor baby would’ve probably sweated through it in five minutes.
Lesson learned: Gauge really matters.
I did try again, this time by adjusting a pattern to fit a doll’s head—which I actually measured beforehand. That project was a small win: the hat came out tight, but hey, the doll didn’t complain. And finally, I got to use some of those math skills I swore I’d never need.
2. The Needles In The Pattern is Only a Suggestion
There. I’ve said it. You can thank me later!
This realization caused me so much frustration, so many tears—and yes, a lot of frogging. I hope this saves you from at least some of that. Here’s the truth: the needle size listed in a pattern is just a starting point. It’s not a rule.
Depending on how you knit—whether you’re tight, loose, or somewhere in between—you might need to go up or down a needle size to match the pattern’s stitch gauge.
But here’s the catch: just hitting gauge isn’t always enough.
Think about how the fabric actually feels once you meet gauge. Maybe you hit gauge perfectly, but when you touch the swatch, it feels stiff or too dense. In that case, you might want to size up your needles to get a softer drape. Or maybe you like it as is—and that’s totally fine too. No judgment here. You do you!
What I like to do after hitting gauge is block the swatch the same way I plan to block the finished project. That helps me get an accurate sense of the fabric’s drape and feel—because unblocked swatches can lie. Treat your swatch the way you’ll treat your garment.
Also, make a larger swatch when you’re trying out a new stitch pattern. You can always reuse the yarn later. I’ve noticed that when I start a project with an unfamiliar stitch, I tend to knit tighter at first. But once I settle in, my tension relaxes. Sound familiar?
That’s why I like to knit with a cup of tea in hand and some calming music in the background. Creating a consistent, relaxed environment helps me keep my gauge steady throughout the project.
3. Substitute Yarn Style–Not Weight
I feel like I’m airing all my past knitting problems here (and honestly, some I still have). But this one’s important.
There have been so many times I’ve seen an amazing pattern, fallen in love with the finished project photo, and thought, “Hey, I’ve got yarn in that weight!” I’d pull out my needles, match gauge, and spend weeks finishing the project—only to realize it didn’t look or feel right.
The problem? I focused on matching the yarn weight, but ignored the yarn style and fiber content.
Sometimes the result was too thin, sometimes too bulky, and sometimes the yarn just wasn’t suited to the project at all. I either had to live with a finished piece I secretly didn’t love—or frog the whole thing and start again.
If you’re going to substitute yarn, don’t just look at the label. Check:
- What type of fiber the original pattern used (wool? cotton? alpaca?),
- The structure of the yarn (smooth? haloed? plied?),
- How your yarn behaves when knit up—its drape, bounce, warmth, etc.
There’s a lot that goes into a good yarn substitution. I wish it were as simple as matching gauge—but it’s not.
In my case, most of the yarn in my stash is acrylic. We have allergies in the house, so I have to avoid certain fibers. And honestly? Acrylic gets a bad rap, but it’s not a bad substitute when used thoughtfully.
Yes, I’ve worked with other fibers—and they’ve been lovely—but at the end of the day, I have to think about who the item is for:
- Can they wear it comfortably?
- Will they be able to care for it?
Picking the right yarn is just as important as knitting the pattern itself.
4. Finishing The Project
The first thing that comes to mind when finishing a project is just blocking. Honestly at first I didn’t see what was the point. It’s going to look the same before and after. After I really focused on finishing the project, my but was duly handed to me.
When I used to hear people talk about “finishing” a knitting project, I thought it just meant casting off. Done and done, right?
Wrong.
Turns out, finishing includes a few crucial steps—like blocking, seaming, and weaving in ends—that can make or break the final look of your project.
Blocking: The Magic Move
At first, I didn’t get the point of blocking. I’d think, “It looks the same before and after, doesn’t it?” So I skipped it. That is, until I blocked my first sweater. And then? Magic.
So, what is blocking?
It’s the process of letting the fibers in your garment relax so they lay better, drape nicely, and take on the final shape they’re meant to have.
Since I mostly use acrylic yarn, I do steam blocking (also known as heat blocking). I pin the fabric into shape—like in the picture above—and use a steamer to gently relax the fibers. Important: I don’t let the steamer touch the fabric directly, because that can ruin it. I just hover the steam over the surface until the fabric settles, then leave it to dry before unpinning.
After blocking, my fabric always feels softer, more relaxed, and better structured.
Seaming and Stitching
Finishing also means making sure your seams are neat and your stitches are clean. If I’m the one wearing it, I want to feel good about the quality. I like knowing that I didn’t just rush through the last step—I actually took the time to make it look right.
A neat seam can take a handmade item from “homemade” to “handcrafted.”
Weaving In Ends
I know, I know—it’s tempting to leave this for later. But to me, weaving in ends is how I officially sign off on a project.
Sure, you can technically wear a sweater with dangling yarn tails, but they’ll always be a nagging reminder that you’re not really done. Weaving them in doesn’t take long, and it’s the finishing touch that makes the whole thing feel complete.
Whether it’s blocking, seaming, or weaving in your ends, finishing should matter just as much as casting on. You’ve put in the time—your work deserves a good final step.
5. Relax
I don’t know what it is, but the moment I start a knitting project, I suddenly feel this weird urgency to finish it immediately. If something takes too long or doesn’t go the way I planned, I get frustrated. Anyone else?
But here’s the thing: knitting is my hobby—not my job, not a race, and definitely not something I have to do. I do it because I want to. And I enjoy it.
Let’s be honest: if we got paid to knit, we’d probably be broke (ha!). But that’s the beauty of it—we choose to do this. We invest our time and end up with something made by hand, with care. And over time, we grow in skill, confidence, and creativity.
What I’ve learned is this: don’t put pressure on yourself to love every minute or meet imaginary deadlines. That pressure can suck the joy right out of it.
If you’re not feeling it—if you’re stuck or just not in the mood—it’s okay to walk away. Do something else. The yarn will still be there when you’re ready. Knitting will wait for you.
At the end of the day, this craft should bring you peace, not stress. So take a breath. Pour some tea. Pick up your project when you’re ready.
So there you have it—five lessons I wish I’d known when I first started fiber crafting. They came from a mix of missteps, experiments, and hard-earned wins, and honestly, I’m still learning more with every project.
If you’re on your own knitting journey, I hope these tips make the road a little smoother for you. And if you’ve picked up a few lessons of your own along the way, I’d love to hear them! Drop a comment below—let’s learn from each other.
Because at the end of the day, the best part of this craft isn’t just what we make with our hands—it’s the community we build as we go.