Abstract During the First World War, women in Britain were encouraged to demonstrate their patriotism through knitting and crocheting woollen comforts for servicemen. Scholarship has acknowledged the contribution made by popular domestic magazines to knitting and crochet campaigns, by urging readers to participate and supplying them with patterns. The role of knitting and crochet in magazines has not, however, been examined. This article explores knitting and crochet in three British domestic magazines, My Weekly, Woman’s Weekly, and Woman’s Own, during the First World War. It demonstrates that, while these publications urged their readers to knit and crochet for servicemen, of greater priority was the production of items unrelated to combat. These supported readers’ ongoing domestic responsibilities and, crucially, helped to safeguard the mental health of those who were experiencing anxiety and trauma. Finally, it will make the point that the magazines’ interest in knitting and crochet was motivated by commercial considerations: the need to boost the profits of publishers, advertisers, and the manufacturers of knitting and crochet products. In doing so, they participate in a distinctively modern culture of consumerism that was emerging at the time.

Abstract This research operates at the crossroads of architectural and design history, material culture, and capitalist studies, scrutinizing how consumerism conditions global domestic interiors through the lens of IKEA, the world’s largest furnishing company. Both artistic and scholarly, this article created for “Explorations,” draws attention to “IKEA-Land,” a term coined to denote moments and spaces pervaded by fiction, an enveloping force according to which, through seemingly natural behaviors, users become consumers. The study delves into IKEA’s creation of fictional, immersive atmospheres; the vast corporate structure echoing that of other late-capitalist entities; and the postmodern appropriative behavior of this corporation. Comprising a diary and a visual essay, this interdisciplinary article—the outcome of a larger project, one segment of which was carried out in collaboration with photographer Philipp Schell—aims to immerse the reader-viewer in the manipulative reality of IKEA-designed spaces in a not-too-academic verbal fashion, as experienced firsthand during fieldwork. These components serve as tools to narrate corporate history differently while working with the protocols imposed by multinational companies for access to information and departments. Through disorienting images and diaristic notes, this piece seeks to question the curated narrative of IKEA and acts as a “counter-catalogue” to the otherwise familiar, crafted reality.