Lewis Kenny is young and handsome, with a hipster beard and a strong Dublin accent, so it’s hard to imagine him sitting quietly with a ball of yarn, gently guiding a pair of knitting needles. Yet his deep, smokey voice and thoughtful answers reveal a reflective character with a quiet, slightly self-deprecating confidence.
And he is always looking for something new.
“I’ve always been a curious person,” says the 32-year-old. “Every year, I’ll try to learn a new skill. When I left school, I went and did electrical engineering in IADT. There was a woman in the college that I fancied, and she was the head of the knitting society. They used to run it on Wednesdays. They had free tea and biscuits, too, so that was part of it, but it was mainly to chat with her. She showed me the very basics of knitting and I thought it was great.”
Lewis and his muse ended up dating, and though their passion for each other lasted only three months, the Cabra native’s passion for knitting endured.
He wasn’t to know it would reach something of a pinnacle when he created the first of many balaclavas for Kneecap rapper DJ Provaí, aka JJ Ó Dochartaigh.
Lewis first met the Belfast trio outside the Bang Bang Café in Dublin, which is owned by the band’s manager, Daniel Lambert. His friendship with Daniel goes back a long way and is rooted in their mutual love of music, arts, and Bohemians Football Club, where Lewis was, believe it or not, the poet in residence.
‘At one point, I offered to make JJ (DJ Provaí) a balaclava’
“They were on their way down to a festival,” says Lewis. “They were sat in the back of a car, waiting to go, and I just got chatting to them. I seem to remember sending them on their way with a bottle of poitín and 50g of Amber Leaf tobacco. I didn’t see them for a while.
“Then, when I was on a cycling trip around the country, I popped into a charity concert for Palestine at the ACLAÍ gym in Cork. Moglai Bap’s brother used to run it and I knew him through Daniel. It was 2018 and they weren’t that big yet. They were playing to about 200 people. After the gig, I got talking to them anyway, and, at one point, I offered to make JJ (DJ Provaí) a balaclava.”
JJ was still working as a teacher. Due to the sometimes controversial topics in Kneecap’s songs, he covered his face, so as not to reveal his identity and risk losing his job.
JJ liked the initial idea, but came back with a specific request: That the balaclava be made to look like an Irish tricolour.
“I told him I didn’t know how to do it, but I’d give it a bash,” says Lewis.
Lewis Kenny with some of the balaclavas he has made. Picture: Gareth Chaney
“That first iteration was very, very bad. Awful. But he loved it and he wore it. Then, someone ripped it off his head at a gig and he came back to me looking for another one.
“I went back to the drawing board, because they were getting bigger and I wanted to get it right. So, I took a bit of time to work on the design, and the second one turned out very well, and that became the quintessential balaclava.”
Since then, Lewis has knitted several tricolour balaclavas for the star and says that JJ will usually get in touch when he knows he’s about to set out on tour and might need to keep two or three handy.
“JJ has been a big supporter of mine,” says Lewis. “He’s a top guy. To be honest, they’re all lovely lads.”
What started as something of a madcap suggestion has now turned in to a business that employs four people on and off.
“I was getting requests all the time, and I still do,” says Lewis. “I’m working on a Celtic nations series at the moment; balaclavas with flags from Wales, Scotland, Cornwall, Isle of Man, Brittany, Galicia, and they do sell.
“We have Palestinian balaclavas, as well, and the funds for that go to a gym in the West Bank. I had someone yesterday looking for a Dublin GAA balaclava and that’s kind of cool.”
Lewis Kenny: ‘I was getting requests all the time, and I still do.’ Picture: Gareth Chaney
Lewis always does his research on any requests and won’t take on a commission that doesn’t align with his values.
“Sometimes, I get people asking for a custom balaclava and they’ll send me an image of a flag or something,” he says. “I have to have a screening process. I had a fella from Turkey send me this flag that I’d never seen before and when I looked in to it further it turned out to be a new neo-Nazi symbol coming out of Turkey. There was no way I was doing that. So you have to be careful.”
For now, custom requests and the new Celtic series are enough to keep everyone happy and, at the same time, allow Lewis to feed his endless curiosity.
He has recently completed a four-year degree in horticulture, and, as we speak, is preparing slides for a presentation on ‘Why Should You Study Horticulture?’ at that week’s Bloom Festival in the Phoenix Park.
“Knitting the balaclavas is a business, yes, but it’s not substantial,” says Lewis. “I don’t make as many balaclavas myself as I used to. I work on the design elements. Then, I have some family members and a wonderful woman down in Waterford who works with me.
“They work on rotation, so when the requests come in, I can call on them to help me. I’m not saying I’m an NGO or anything, but the people making the balaclavas get most of the money for the labour and that’s only right.”
And very much in keeping with Lewis Kenny’s interesting and ever-evolving life philosophy.
