“THE LIFE-CHANGING MAGIC OF BECOMING A MEDIOCRE CRAFTER"

In her new book, The Age of Magical Overthinking, author Amanda Montell explores the state of the modern mind. This exclusive excerpt examines why we're obsessed with things that are handmade.

- Amanda Montell

A therapist in a large beaded necklace once told me over video chat that in order to yank your attention into the present, you’re supposed to do things with your hands. “Watercolors, card tricks, any hands-on hobby,” she said, her kind eyes squinting glitchily over Zoom. I winced at the suggestion, as a sentiment from my hometown hero John Waters leapt to mind: “The only insult I’ve ever received in my adult life was when someone asked me, ‘Do you have a hobby?’ A HOBBY?! DO I LOOK LIKE A FUCKING DABBLER?!” I wanted to sneer, but then I remembered: Nora Ephron loved to cook. Michelle Obama has her knitting. Greta Thunberg allegedly cross-stitches for relaxation between climate justice meetings with presidents. None of it is what they’re known for, but it’s what they love. What they do with their hands. “A hobby,” I told the therapist. “I’ll think on it.”

Unfortunately, I believe I might be the single worst crafter of all time. Since childhood, my instincts as a painter, a French braider, a friendship bracelet maker have been practically non-existent. I recognize that a woman publicly admitting to her lack of domesticity is still taboo, or at least unflattering, like someone confessing they don’t like dogs. For the record, I have made heartfelt attempts at “dabbling.” During the craft boom of the 2020 lockdown, I managed to grow a small forest of basil, though I manslaughtered it within a matter of days.