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Loggers are a creative sort, always looking for new ways to express themselves. From knitting and crocheting to quilting and spinning wool, these alumni, faculty, and staff are taking traditional crafting to new heights, whether it’s making their own clothes or turning a hobby into an unexpected career. We caught up with a few Loggers harnessing their passion for crafting to address waste and unchecked consumerism, improve their mental health, teach the next generation, and make handmade sweaters cool again.

Genevieve Greblo ’20

Fiber artist and social media influencer

Like a lot of people stuck at home during the COVID-19 pandemic, Genevieve Greblo ’20 was looking for a hobby to occupy her free time — preferably one that wouldn’t take up too much space in her small Chicago apartment. So, she picked up a crochet hook and a skein of yarn and taught herself how to make a simple square. Something clicked, and she continued to learn and experiment. Along the way, she documented her journey on social media, where she has since gathered more than 35,000 followers.

“I started my TikTok and Instagram as an outlet to show the things I was making and to connect with other fiber artists,” Greblo says. “My goal with social media has never been to start a business or sell a product, but to encourage people to crochet and just be creative. Building that community has been awesome.”

Greblo has also used social media to plug into a real-life community of artists and hobbyists, including a thriving group of queer crochet artists in Chicago. When her studio apartment started to fill up with projects, she took the leap into selling her work at local makers’ markets.

Her skills have flourished over the last four years. She’s branched into upcycling yarn — thrifting used sweaters with holes in them and unraveling so she can repurpose the yarn for a new project. Her creations change with the seasons, from cozy sweaters and wraps in the winter to mesh dresses and swimsuit cover-ups in the summer.

“It’s such a versatile hobby. I can take my crochet everywhere. I crochet on the bus; I crochet when I’m hanging out with friends,” she says. “I love being able to work on something and then have an end result that I can wear. I think making wearable clothing and wearable art is really cool.”

Tiffany Aldrich MacBain

Professor of English and quilter

This semester, Professor of English Tiffany Aldrich MacBain is taking a novel approach to teaching — by making a quilt with her students. In her first-year Connections course, Social Fabric: Quilting a Community, MacBain is using the process of creating with needle and thread to explore the social functions of quilting throughout American history, from the beautiful quilts made by enslaved women in the nineteenth century and their sewing descendants in the community of Gee’s Bend, Ala., to the AIDS Memorial Quilt, a 54-ton blanket memorializing and celebrating more than 100,000 people who have lost their lives to HIV and AIDS. MacBain is also using the exercise to encourage her students to dive into the deeper questions that only a liberal arts education can ask.

“What we’re doing is contemplating how one can structure and share a life. At school and at home we spend so much time on screens these days, that I’d like to give students the tactile experience of holding fabric and using a needle and thread, even at a basic level, while they’re contemplating different ways knowing,” MacBain says.

MacBain is an avid quilter and enjoys sewing with others and as a contemplative solo activity. She’s made several quilts and usually gives them away as gifts. Last year, she set out to create something for herself by documenting her daily emotional state by quilting one square every day for a year.

“I created a schema assigning colors and patterns to various emotions,” she says. “At the end of each day, I would evaluate how I had felt and then assign the day a piece of fabric. In the end, I had a map of my emotional state for the year. It helped me to embrace the full slate of feelings, not just the ‘good’ ones.”

MacBain hopes the experience of learning to quilt gives her students a chance to slow down in a world that seems to always be speeding up. Taking up an analog hobby in an increasingly digital world is a way to recenter — and it’s something that the current generation of students are hungry for. At the end of the term, the class will donate the finished quilt to a local organization that can put it to good use.

Maya Herran

Career advisor, knitter, and yarn spinner

There’s a shawl on the back of Maya Herran’s chair in her office in Career & Employment Services. Not only did she knit the shawl — she spun the yarn herself. Herran’s grandmother taught her to knit at a very young age, starting with potholders. Since then, she’s leveled up, learning to knit sweaters, blankets, socks, hats, and other accessories. Her passion for making her own clothing stems from wanting to live an environmentally sustainable lifestyle.

“In 2023, I challenged myself to not buy any new clothes, and so I was allowed to make things and I was allowed to thrift things,” Herran says. “If I had to buy something, I had to find something that was sustainably and ethically made.”

The experience taught her a lot of useful skills, like how to alter used clothing to fit better and match her personal style. These days, she spends much of her free time knitting tiny clothes for the baby she’s expecting this autumn. Herran also facilitates a community of crafters on campus consisting of around 30 Puget Sound staff members who meet weekly during the lunch hour to work on their various projects together, from knitting to drawing to diamond painting.

“There are folks from all different corners of the university who come,” Herran says. “It’s fun to have an outlet where we’re able to share what we’re making.”

Herran’s latest obsession is spinning her own yarn from raw fleece. She started doing it three years ago after seeing other knitters on Instagram take up spinning. She’s also participated in an annual online event called Tour de Fleece, where spinners around the world spin a certain yardage of fiber during the similarly named bike race in France.

“Last summer, I got my first raw fleece straight off the sheep. I washed and processed it myself,” Herran says. “Now, I’ve got a spinning wheel and a whole bunch of fleece in my house. I don’t have the sheep yet, but I’ve got pretty much everything else.”

Alicia Matz ’15

Academic, knitter, crocheter, and disability advocate

When Alicia Matz ’15 was deep in the trenches of writing her dissertation, knitting and crochet offered a way to decompress and do something creative when she needed a break. Matz picked up knitting from her cousin while attending Puget Sound, knitting scarves for her friends before working up to more complicated projects like hats, socks, and blankets. Now that she lives in Southern California, she doesn’t make as much thick knitwear, but still enjoys the process.

“I’ve been working on a sweater for months, but I don’t feel a need to rush to finish it,” Matz says. “I get a lot of my best ideas while knitting with the TV on in the background.”

Matz finished her Ph.D. on the goddess Diana in Roman poetry and material culture and now works as a postdoctoral researcher in the Classics & Humanities department at San Diego State University. In addition to teaching courses about how the ancient world is invoked in modern literature, she also serves as the co-chair of Crip Antiquity, an advocacy group that aims to make academia more accessible for those with chronic illnesses and disabilities.

“I’m a Type 1 diabetic, which means I’m a full-time pancreas, a full-time academic, and also a full-time me,” she says. “Right now, we’re advocating for hybrid conferences, which makes it easier for people who are chronically ill or disabled or low-income to attend.”

Between her academic work and running Crip Antiquity, Matz savors the moments when she can pick up her knitting needles or crochet hook and let her mind wander.

“I’m the type of person who, when I’m thinking, I need to have something in my hands,” Matz says. “A lot of my great ideas come from sitting there knitting. Crafting gives my brain a break, and that break allows my academic brain to make those connections.”

Jared Flood ’05

Knitwear designer, photographer, and entrepreneur

Jared Flood ’05 grew up watching his mother make clothes for him and his two older brothers. He took up knitting as a kid but eventually lost interest. It wasn’t until his sophomore year at Puget Sound that he picked up his knitting needles again. A friend made him a scarf and he was inspired to relearn the skill with her help.

“Within a few weeks, I overtook her ability to teach me anything,” he says.

After graduating with his art degree, he moved to New York City and continued to knit as he pursued his MFA in studio art. He became more confident in his skills, selling commissioned pieces and submitting his designs to magazines. He built up enough of a following that he was able to turn his side-hustle into a full-time career, founding with his husband, Luigi.

The company took off, selling detailed patterns for Flood’s designs. In 2010, Brooklyn Tweed began manufacturing its own yarn in the United States — a huge gamble in a market saturated with cheap fiber from overseas. For Flood, the patterns and yarn were a way to push back against fast fashion and the associated environmental and ethical tangles that come with cheap, mass-produced clothing.

“We live in this world where we’re so disconnected from literally everything we purchase,” says Flood. “This was an opportunity for me to explore that world and slow down.”

The company ran into manufacturing challenges during the pandemic, and managing the increasingly complex web of logistics took Flood away from his true passion — knitting and design. So, in June 2025, Brooklyn Tweed announced it would wind down its popular yarn business and go back to its roots as a place to find unique patterns that bring a modern sensibility to a traditional craft.

“Fashion can be this beautiful language of self-expression, but we’re very conformist in how we learn to dress and how we internalize the psychology of clothing and gender presentation,” Flood says. “We need to be empowering people to look the way they want and express themselves in the way they want. It’s a joyful way to be and a joyful way to live.”