Hot girls have hobbies

Last year my friend Alice invited me to come hang out with her in York. She'd been knitting for a couple of years by that point and was making the coolest things - she's honestly one of the most creative people I know, always doing something just because she's curious about it, not because it's going anywhere. My ex had actually gotten me a knitting kit at some point, so I packed it and went, and Alice said she'd show me the basics.

My grandma had taught me a bit when I was younger. She even got me my own little set of needles, which apparently my mum had kept all this time without me knowing.

I'd been wanting to pick a hobby back up for a while. I was working, and every spare minute I had was spent jumping from TikTok to Instagram and back, and I felt like shit about it. My work requires me to be on screen constantly, so I knew I needed something that pulled me off it completely, something with my hands, slow, with nowhere to be. Knitting always struck me as the most soothing thing for that. I remember watching my grandma knit while barely glancing at her hands, half watching TV, completely fluent in it.

When you pick up something new there's a lot of mental gymnastics that happens, especially if you're a recovering perfectionist (I see you, perfectionist queen). Not being good at it straight away. Knowing you're about to make a lot of mistakes and have to start over more than once. Reading knitting patterns was exactly that for me - I'd never been more grateful for ChatGPT explaining what half the abbreviations meant. I vaguely remembered some of it from my grandma, but I still unraveled things constantly, restarted rows, watched the same YouTube tutorial four times.

I've made three pieces so far. The most recent one took about six months, mostly because I put it down completely for a couple of months after a breakup (I honestly didn't have the will to do much of anything creative during that stretch).

I'm still very much a beginner. I'm okay with that.

Hobbies matter more than we give them credit for.

I remember being asked once, "what do you do in your free time?" And I remember thinking very clearly that I never wanted my answer to that question to be "nothing." Having hobbies is genuinely cool. It makes you more interesting to talk to, more interesting to be around, and honestly more interesting to yourself. Some of my favourite conversations come from asking friends what they're into outside of work like Alice and her knitting, someone else's pottery, someone else's slightly chaotic relationship with houseplants. I love learning what people do purely because they enjoy it, with no other agenda attached.

There's actually real research behind why this stuff works too, beyond just being a nice idea. Hobbies are associated with fewer depressive symptoms and better self-reported health, and that pattern holds up across very different countries and cultures. Creative activities specifically, like painting, knitting, writing, anything with your hands, have been shown to ease stress, anxiety, and low mood. One study even found that making art lowered cortisol in the vast majority of participants who tried it.

None of that surprises me. What I find more interesting is why it works, underneath the biology. A hobby is one of the only spaces left in modern life where you're allowed to be unproductive on purpose. No metric, no audience, no outcome required. Just you, slowly getting better at something nobody asked you to do.

When you're someone who's even a little bit creative or capable, there's a trap that can show up: everything eventually becomes a potential offer. The painting could be sold. The cooking could be content. The walk could be a podcast topic. You get so used to extracting value out of everything you do that doing something purely for yourself starts to feel like it needs justifying.

It doesn't. A creative practice that exists completely outside your business isn't wasted time, it's part of what makes everything else sustainable. You need at least one place in your life where you're not performing, producing, or optimising anything. Where you're just a person, doing a thing, because it feels good.

What to look for if you're picking something up.

I wanted something I could do anywhere, such as sitting in a café, on a flight, slouched on the sofa with a film on. Easy to pick up, easy to put down. Knitting fit that perfectly, with one very specific exception: not every country is thrilled about needles in your carry-on. Most places I've travelled were completely fine with it. India was not one of them, they confiscated my needles at a transit flight and I was genuinely fuming about it. Worth checking before you fly somewhere unfamiliar with yours.

Reading is another one I'd put in this category. I've also picked painting back up recently, for the same reason, no plan, no outcome, just enjoying it.

If you don't know where to start, here are some that fit the brief: knitting or crochet, painting or drawing, pottery, baking, gardening, learning an instrument (even badly), puzzles, embroidery, swimming for the pleasure of it rather than the workout, journaling that nobody else ever reads, collecting something completely impractical.

The only real requirement is this: it's something you do for yourself, with zero need to turn it into a business. Low pressure. Genuinely enjoyable, even when the learning curve is annoying. Something you're willing to be bad at for a while because getting better at it, slowly, is actually the whole point.

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THE SUNSEEKER STUDIO | The Sunseeker Studio is a creative studio for visionaries, dreamers, and seekers making art out of their lives - where creative work, business, money, and the nervous system are held as one.

The Sunseeker Edit | A newsletter for seekers, creatives, and dreamers who are drawn to light - exploring self-discovery, creativity, and the rhythms of a deeply intentional life.

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