I’ve taken up crochet lately and have predictably gone all a bit obsessive-compulsive about it (I’m in my wholesome era, just in a very Daniel Day Lewis sort of way). But as a thing to do with my hands to stop them from scrolling (and thus my mind from spiralling), as a meditative anxiety alleviator, as a mental distraction that takes up just enough space in my monkey mind so that politics and work and an endless to-do list can’t hog all the real estate, let me tell you this: crochet is considerably better than ketamine.

I never imagined myself to be a crafter. I’ve always been very busy, and also not in my 60s. But suddenly, I’ve had enough of the noise; I need to be quiet – and my obsession with crochet is giving me an excuse to sit down and zone out. It’s not just me, either; I’m seeing it everywhere. There’s the It-girl makeup artist who now channels all her party energy into a tiny, colourful garden. Young families eschewing flashy overseas trips for holiday houses down the coast. So many cool, artsy, DINK couples moving to postcodes previously associated with Lions Clubs and middle age. I recently heard a story about an events producer in London who packed in a big life of flying around the world, throwing spectacular parties for brands and celebrities, to buy a couple of laundromats in Barcelona. Once upon a time I might have thought he was crazy – who gives up exciting, creative work to wash other people’s smalls? – but, now, I get it. His life is no longer as big, his work is no longer as glamorous, but he works less, gets to care less and now he lives in Barcelona. It makes all the sense.

For many of us, the idea of paring back, of pulling back, of simplifying, has never been more of a draw. Experts are linking it to the Great Exhaustion that we all thought we were experiencing immediately post-pandemic (in fact, we ran Bluey’s mum Chilli Heeler on a digital cover back in January 2023 in recognition of it), but that apparently has only really kicked into gear now. It’s seeing more and more of us rebelling against the relentlessness of hustle culture, the exhaustion of our own ambition, the never-ending gnaw to want and get and do more, more, more. Outside of work, people are prioritising personal time and cultivating smaller and more intimate friend groups. ‘Conserving my energy’ is suddenly seen as a perfectly valid excuse to skip a social event. Cold weather holidays have started taking off because instead of exploring and basking in the sun, people are feeling the urge to go inward and bunker down in an effort to make their downtime really feel like downtime. And it’s not just that we’re physically busy; inboxes heaving, we’re all crushing under the weight of our individual digital loads, too. Burnout is as much a topic of conversation as the outfits in Emily in Paris, and everyone – everyone – is so, so tired.