Made in China? Iceland’s sweater-knitters are unhappy
Ryears with the extra cash. With Chinese imports grabbing an estimated two-thirds market share — particularly among tourists — knitting co-ops around the country worry about the future.
“The trade thrives on tourists because most locals already own a sweater and they are very durable,” said Einarsdottir, who founded the Handknitting Association in the 1970s to increase women’s bargaining power against retailer s.
The quality of each garment ultimately
comes down to the skill of the individual knitter, raising the question of what actually makes the sweater “Icelandic.”
“What if the sweater is made by a Polish resident in Iceland?” asked Bjarni Jonsson, owner of Nordic Store, a company that makes roughly 20,000 sweaters a year in China for its local retail business in Iceland. “When does the sweater start — or stop — being I cel an d i c?”
To domestically produce the number of sweaters it produces in China, Nordic Store estimates it would need 200 to 250 people working full-time, in a country of 350,000 people.
“We don’t have that many knitters,” Jonsson sai d.
Locally made sweaters retail for about $200, while the Chinese ones sell for around $170, reflecting the wage gap between the two nat i ons.
Chinese knitters are, according to Nordic Store, paid $3 to $5 per hour, depending on their skill and experience. The number could not be verified and the company declined to identify the location of its operation, beyond that it is in southern China.
In Iceland, competitive pressures have pushed the knitting rate far below the hourly $14.50 minimum wage. Knitters, who are selfemployed and often retired, claim the practice is a lifestyle as much as l abor.
“It gives me something to do while watching television or drinking coffee with friends,” sai d Heiddis Gunnarsdottir, a local knitter. The repetitive practice is taxing on the body, however, often leading sore wrists and shoul der s.
Gunnarsdottir is about to complete a green sweater with a rainbow-colored pattern surrounding the neck opening; the circular yoke is the defining feature of the “lopi” sweater s.
Contrary to popular belief, the sweater is not a tradition, but entirely moder n.
“No one really know where it comes from,” said Vedis Jonsdottir, a clothing designer who writes and edits “Lopi”, a best-selling magazine with wool sweater knitting recipes.
The method spread around knitting groups in the 1960s after the arrival of the circular needle made the defining pattern possible. The design was most likely inspired — or plagiarized — from neighboring Greenland where the female national dress has a beaded collar similar to the “lopi” yoke pattern.
“It is amazing how quickly it began to resemble national pride and unity,” said Jonsdottir. “To us, the sweater is like a flag.”