Avi Molder worked quickly through the stitches of a shirt at Cleo’s Yarn Shop in Brooklyn. He first learned to knit through his mother, and honed his skills more fully as an adult. At the shop’s monthly men’s night, Molder found a comfortable place to practice — and spend time with the boys.“I definitely wouldn’t hang out with an exclusive group of men and not knit,” Molder, a New York City resident who works in publishing, told The Advocate.Contemporary knitting is borne from household labor historically done by women, and hobbyists say the craft is often still viewed as intrinsically feminine. But across the country, groups of men gather regularly at yarn shops, community centers, and overnight retreats just to knit together. By carving out these spaces, men are using the craft to forge bonds around their masculinity; and, in equal measure, to deconstruct it.For some LGBTQ+ participants, these groups offer something particularly welcome: a place to connect with other men without feeling pressure to perform a certain kind of manhood.The Advocate visited two men’s knitting groups in New York City. They included the monthly gathering at Cleo’s in Bushwick, and another weekly meetup at Knitty City on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, where men have been gathering for 20 years. Brian Cooper works on a Fair Isle sweater, a multicolor garment that originated in Scotland. Jack Walker/The Advocate “It’s a weekly group that my mom first started when she opened up the store,” Zac Chin, manager of Knitty City, told The Advocate. “Knitting itself is a very female-dominated space, so she wanted to make sure that it was very inclusive, and that we had space for men to come without feeling like they were the outsiders.”Men who spoke with The Advocate widely agreed that gender stereotypes around knitting initially kept them from learning to knit or practicing openly. Brian Cooper grew up around women who regularly knitted and crocheted, but didn’t feel c