ARNE & CARLOS

Our new sock yarn collection began with an imaginary room shaped by generations of creative lives — worn floorboards, faded linen curtains, books, paintings and changing light. Those fragments slowly became eight colourways. Step inside The Painted Room and discover the story behind them.

Our Christmas knit-along returns — and here are the yarn colours you’ll need.

Two childhoods, an ocean apart, that somehow led to the same grey platform in Norway. This is the story of what came after — the people we met, the friendships we made, and how a garden we never meant to build ended up shaping who we became.

In 1968, my mother bought a Volkswagen Beetle. It became her third — a car that carried her through decades of a job that no longer exists, and years abandoned in a field before it was found again. This is the story of the Bug, and everywhere it’s taken us since.

Ten years of rocks, and we had still never set foot in an English garden. Then a volcano tried to stop us from finally going. This is the story of what happened next.

One February, Arne came home and announced he had bought a train station. This is the story of the grey platform we found, and the ten years of rocks it took to make a garden out of it.

Every year, midsommar coincides with something rather special for us — Arne’s birthday, a raft with a long and undignified history, and a flower from the Himalayas that blooms, briefly, right on cue. This is our version of Sweden’s most theatrical celebration, as seen from a former railway station at 682.5 metres.

I was not born here. And yet every Easter, without fail, I find myself watching this country with the same slightly bewildered affection I had the very first time. This is my outsider’s guide to how Norway does Easter — and it is more complicated than it sounds.