On a bright afternoon in a café tucked away near Camden Market in London, a table is covered in scraps of fabric, clay tools, and half-finished crochet projects. Around it, a group of twenty-somethings chat easily while sipping cappuccinos and nibbling biscuits. Some are learning to knit for the first time; others are trying their hand at jewelry-making. The laughter and conversation carry across the room, creating a warmth that feels as comforting as the crafts themselves.
This is the Creative Hands Collective, founded earlier this year by Sofia, a recent art graduate who struggled with feeling disconnected after her ADHD diagnosis. “We were all dealing with our own challenges,” she says. “So we thought—why not create something positive out of it? Making your own clothes or fixing a bag isn’t just about saving money. It changes how you value things—and yourself.”
What might look like a nostalgic throwback is actually part of a much bigger trend. Across the UK, and increasingly in other parts of Europe, young people are embracing activities once associated with their grandparents—knitting circles, pottery cafés, supper clubs, and even game nights with mahjong or dominoes. Far from being just “retro fun,” these slow hobbies provide something many in Gen Z are craving: community, purpose, and a break from endless scrolling.
A Generation Searching for Connection
The shift comes at a time when studies show British teenagers among the least happy in Europe. The Good Childhood Report from The Children’s Society described the trend as a “happiness recession,” with more than a quarter of 15-year-olds in the UK reporting low life satisfaction—compared to just 7% in the Netherlands.
Add in the rising cost of nights out, the lingering isolation from lockdown years, and the exhaustion of digital burnout, and it’s no wonder many young people are turning to real-world, hands-on hobbies.
“Pottery painting is my escape,” says Luca, 32, a regular at a Hackney pottery café. “It’s calming, creative, and way cheaper than a big night out. You leave with something you made yourself, which feels far more rewarding than just another hangover.”
Affordable, Purposeful, and Creative
The appeal of these hobbies isn’t just the social element. Emma, 24, from Manchester, who attends a local women’s craft circle, says: “It’s partly about connection after the pandemic, but also about affordability. A craft night might cost £10 or be free, while a pub night easily hits £40. It makes sense.”
Purpose matters too. Layla, 25, from Cardiff, who goes to a dog life-drawing club, says the hobby gives her a sense of achievement: “You learn something practical, something real. Plus, dogs as models make everyone smile.”
For Sofia and her Camden-based craft circle, variety keeps people coming back. “One week it’s embroidery, another week candle-making,” she explains. “It helps people discover hidden talents, build confidence, and meet others in a safe, supportive space.”
The Therapeutic Effect of Craft
The mental health benefits of crafting are widely recognized. “Using your hands forces you to slow down,” says Sarah Jenkins, founder of a mindful crafting initiative in Bristol. “Stitch by stitch, you relax, breathe deeply, and get into a flow state. It’s meditative without being forced.”
Researchers back this up. A recent study by Anglia Ruskin University, involving over 7,000 UK adults, found that arts and crafts brought participants greater life satisfaction than their paid jobs. Daisy Fancourt, a professor of psychobiology at UCL, notes that Gen Z’s emphasis on mental health makes them more open to activities that reduce stress and promote calm.
Supper Clubs, Book Rooms, and More
The trend isn’t limited to crafts. In Dublin, Anna Murphy launched “Table for Twelve” in 2022, a supper club designed to bring strangers together over home-cooked meals. Guests pay €50 for a three-course dinner, bring their own drinks, and leave phones tucked away. “People want real connection,” Murphy says. “I’d rather spend that money on a night that feels memorable than a round of cocktails I won’t remember.”
In Liverpool, The Story Room has revived the book club in a new way—by inviting authors to read aloud to audiences of 100 or more. Attendees get a free book, a welcome drink, and a space where conversation flows without the distraction of phones. “You rarely see a room that present anymore,” says Oliver, 29, who attended. “It feels powerful.”
Meanwhile in Sheffield, artist Liah hosts weekly dog life-drawing classes, originally started as alcohol-free student events. For £12 a ticket, participants sketch their canine models while sipping tea. “People come alone and leave with new friends,” Liah says. “It’s both social and therapeutic.”
A New Social Fabric
From ceramics to supper clubs, embroidery to literature, a new kind of social fabric is forming among young people. These activities are more than hobbies—they’re lifelines, offering real-world connection in an era when much of life feels mediated through screens.
“We’ve forgotten the joy of creating,” says Sofia. “But once you make something with your own hands—whether it’s a bag, a mug, or a knitted scarf—you feel a sense of confidence that’s hard to find elsewhere.”
In a fast-paced, digital-first world, Gen Z isn’t just reviving old traditions—they’re reinventing them for the future. And in the hum of craft circles, supper tables, and pottery cafés, they are rediscovering something simple but profound: connection.