MAPLEBROOK — On a drizzly Tuesday evening, the Maplebrook Public Library smelled faintly of cinnamon candles and damp wool. A cluster of teens, retirees, and one golden retriever in a sweater vest shuffled chairs into a circle. Each wore a cardigan—muted beige, neon stripes, sequined hearts—ready for the town’s newest civic pastime: the Taylor Swift Cardigan Club. The club’s motto, hand-lettered on a banner strung between the stacks of biographies, reads: “In sweaters we trust.”

The Idea

The idea sprouted during last winter’s cold snap, when library volunteer Marla Kincaid realized the town’s book clubs had gone dormant. “It was too icy for mystery lovers to meet, and the sci-fi circle kept losing Wi-Fi,” she explained. “But I noticed everyone was still wearing their cardigans—so why not gather around that?”

What started as a playful nod to a certain chart-topping pop star’s knitwear anthem became a standing Tuesday ritual. Members bring yarn, cookies, and anecdotal weather reports. They read aloud Swift lyrics as though they were poetry, then swap knitting tips and soup recipes. An unofficial bylaws document (typed on pink stationery) affirms: “Anyone in a cardigan is automatically in.”

The People

The group’s 18 regulars form a patchwork of Maplebrook itself. High school sophomore Janelle Ng comes for the social break between homework assignments. “I don’t always get the references,” she admitted with a shrug, “but I like the snacks and everybody claps when I finish a row of stitches.”

Meanwhile, retired postman Dennis Weller, 72, arrives each week in the same navy cardigan he’s worn since the Reagan administration. “Apparently I’ve been a Swiftie since before she was born,” he quipped, handing out butterscotch candies. A few younger attendees secretly film his one-liners for TikTok, where clips circulate under the hashtag #CardiganGrandpa.

“The sweaters are just an excuse. Really, we’re here to warm each other up.” — Marla Kincaid, founder

The library itself leans into the fun. The staff installed a “Swift Corner” with gently glowing fairy lights, thrifted knit blankets, and a display of books deemed “cozily adjacent,” ranging from Little Women to an outdated copy of Knitting for Cats.

The Ripple Effects

What began as a humble knitting-and-pop-lyric gathering has rippled outward like stitches in a growing scarf. The local diner now offers a Tuesday-night “Cardigan Combo” (grilled cheese with extra melty cheddar, served on a doily). The high school jazz band has been rehearsing a swing version of “Love Story.” And Mayor Bonnie Fielding signed a proclamation declaring October “Sweater Weather Appreciation Month.”

Even skeptics are softening. Truck mechanic Leo Martinez admitted he only came after losing a bet, but now attends weekly. “Turns out a cardigan makes a good shop rag in a pinch,” he laughed, before quickly adding, “but don’t tell Marla I said that.”

“There’s a hush when everyone’s knitting at once. It feels like the town is breathing together.” — Janelle Ng, student

Not everyone knits, not everyone sings, but everyone sits shoulder to shoulder in rows of comfy wool. And in a world that often feels unraveling, Maplebrook has found a way to stitch a little order—and joy—back in.

How to follow along:
Visit maplebrooklibrary.org/cardiganclub for meeting times, download the “Sweater Weather Zine” at cosyinit.org, or follow #CardiganClub on social media for weekly photo recaps.

As the group packs up for the night, folding chairs and folding sweaters alike, the rain outside finally eases. Maplebrook’s sidewalks glisten. Everyone heads home warmer—not just from the wool, but from the company.

And if the town’s experiment in knitwear democracy proves anything, it’s this: sometimes the smallest stitches hold the whole pattern together.