A Little Nook, a Little Needle and a Big Idea
By Connie Whitlock
Publishing Editor
Historic downtown Pleasant Hill is taking on a new shape. And part of the shape it taking off at 132 First Street.
There was a time when downtown was simply where you went to buy what you needed. Today, its’ old storefronts are filling with boutiques, services, and small businesses that are giving people new reasons to come downtown. But one of the newer shops on First Street came together a little differently.
More than 20 area makers have their work inside Nook & Needle. Most are from Pleasant Hill. Individually, many probably wouldn’t have enough merchandise or time to run an entire downtown store. Together, they do. And that is really the story of Nook & Needle.
“It’s very much a small-town store,” said Kathy Alexander, one of the people behind the shop. “It’s always going to be a small-town store, but that’s what makes it fun.”
It Started With Some Yarn

Long before there was a storefront, Alexander had a crochet hook. She had always been crafty. Her grandmother did hand cross-stitch, and her mother taught her to knit when she was young. But when Alexander moved to Pleasant Hill about 15 years ago, she was looking for a way to meet people. She found a way and it was at the Pleasant Hill library.
“I could learn how to crochet,” she remembered thinking. So she did. She took a crochet class at the library and it stuck. These days, people who know Alexander are accustomed to seeing her with a yarn bag at football games, volleyball games and other activities involving her children. “I spend 10 to 20 hours a week sitting at kid activities,” she said. “I can bring my yarn bag.” Eventually, some of what came out of that yarn bag made its way to the farmers market.
Last summer, Alexander sold her creations there when she began talking about something bigger: “The dream would be to have something like a brick-and-mortar downtown,” she said. It was a nice idea. But opening an entire store to sell one person’s crochet work didn’t make much sense. Then an opportunity came along that would eventually change the question from How could I open a store? to What if a bunch of us did it together?

A Pop-Up Becomes Something More
Building owner Jennifer Sexton-Rugh was renting the front portion of her First Street building for pop-up shops. Alexander decided to try it. But she didn’t do it alone. She recruited two women she knew through the farmers market: Stephanie Rourke, who makes candles and other scented products, and Andrea Andrews of A Pleasant Bakery, known for her cookies and cinnamon rolls. “And the three of us just went for it,” Alexander said.
They opened a temporary shop during November and December and returned for another pop-up around Valentine’s Day. It worked. Then Sexton-Rugh presented them with a much bigger opportunity. The back portion of the building went unused. Instead of continuing to operate from the small front room, what if they took over the entire space and turned it into a boutique?

It was the kind of opportunity Alexander had dreamed about. There was just one problem. Three makers wouldn’t fill an entire store. And Alexander, Rourke, and the others didn’t have endless time to devote to running one. They had jobs, children, families and responsibilities outside the shop. Taking over the larger space would mean finding more merchandise, more help and more people willing to take a chance on the idea. So they went looking for other makers. And they found them.
Their answer to Sexton-Rugh’s offer eventually came down to a simple question. “Why not?” Walls came down after Easter. Furniture went in. New makers began filling the expanded space. By Mother’s Day, Nook & Needle had grown from a temporary pop-up into something much closer to the dream Alexander had talked about at the farmers market. Except now, it wasn’t just her dream.
One Store, More Than 20 Makers
Walk into Nook & Needle today, and you’ll find the work of more than 20 creators, most of them from Pleasant Hill. But you won’t find 20 individual booths. That is intentional. “We’re not a vendor mart,” Alexander said.
Instead, the merchandise is mixed throughout the store to create one cohesive shop. One maker isn’t confined to a five-foot section with their name above it. Products can move around the store, makers can bring in new creations, and they can take inventory with them to markets and other events. What they make is just as varied.

Some sew, some crochet, some paint and others work with leather, beads or clay. They make candles, soaps, jewelry, food products, coffee, local farm goods, and creations that don’t fit neatly into any particular category. Even the three crocheters represented in the store don’t necessarily make the same things. Alexander pointed to the work of Sarah Davis Henson, who specializes in detailed flower and lace crochet.
KJ and Co. brings clay work, cups and other creations. Local farm businesses, including Redeemed Acres and Hanner House, bring products such as tallow, jams and dry baking goods. The store carries painted pieces and bookmarks by Laura Long, leather goods from Haven Hides, sewn creations, jewelry and bead work, local honey, coffee, candles, soaps, and an assortment that keeps changing as makers come up with something new.
Alexander had once wondered whether they would find enough creators to fill the larger store. That isn’t much of a concern anymore.
Meet the Person Who Made It
Perhaps the best explanation of what Alexander wants Nook & Needle to be is on little signs scattered throughout the store. They’re called “Meet the Maker.” Rather than only telling shoppers how much something costs, the signs introduce them to the person who made it. They tell a little about the maker, what he or she creates, and the connection to Pleasant Hill. “The goal is to spotlight the makers,” Alexander said. “It’s all about the makers and the creations that they make.”

Many of those makers also accept custom orders, so the signs include information about how customers can reach them. It changes the experience of picking something up from a shelf. That crocheted piece didn’t arrive in a warehouse shipment. Neither did the painting, wallet, or candle sitting beside it. Someone made it. And there’s a good chance that someone lives nearby.
Some of the entrepreneurs are especially nearby; they still live with their parents. Alexander’s son, entering fifth grade, runs Chunky Monkey and uses a 3D printer to make his creations. Rourke’s daughter, also entering fifth grade, has her own slime business. Their work sits alongside the adults’. For Alexander, that’s part of the point.

The Makers Also Run the Store
Another piece of the Nook & Needle model is something shoppers might never realize. The makers don’t just supply what’s on the shelves. They help keep the doors open. Because many of them have full-time jobs and families, the makers volunteer to take turns working in the shop. Once again, something that would be difficult for one person becomes possible when the work is shared.
Alexander particularly credits Rourke with helping turn the original idea into a functioning business. “Stephanie is my partner in crime.” The store carries “If it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t be here.” And collaboration doesn’t stop with the Alexander, her husband and children make furniture, build shelving and move everything into the store. “It’s very much a team effort and a family affair,” she said. “I couldn’t do it without my husband, without my kids.” The family atmosphere has found its way into the shop itself.
There is merchandise for children and babies, young makers have a place alongside the adults, and there’s even a small “duck hunt” to occupy children while their parents shop. Nook & Needle is also becoming a place where people can learn to make things themselves. The store hosts monthly maker classes. Previous offerings have included a coffee class and a paint-your-pet event, with candle making and hand-knitted scarves among the classes planned.

Building Something Downtown
After all the work it took to open the doors, Alexander knows another challenge remains: getting people to discover the store. Building a customer base takes time. But she said one surprise of opening downtown has been the support they’ve received from the businesses already there.
Rather than simply viewing a new shop as another competitor, established downtown business owners have offered advice and shared what they’ve learned. “They all want the same thing,” Alexander said. “We all want downtown Pleasant Hill to be successful.” Maybe that is why Nook & Needle fits so naturally into the changing face of downtown Pleasant Hill. Its story is really one of people doing together what would have been difficult to do alone.

A building owner provided an opportunity. Three makers tried a pop-up. When a larger space became available, they found more makers. Families built shelves and moved furniture. Creators filled those shelves and now take turns keeping the store open.
Individually, most of the makers inside Nook & Needle probably wouldn’t have opened a storefront on First Street. Together, they’ve filled one. And for Alexander, what began 15 years ago with a trip to the Pleasant Hill library to learn how to crochet eventually led to a yarn bag, a farmers market table, a pop-up shop and, finally, that downtown storefront she once wondered about. Only it turned out to be bigger than one maker’s dream. It took a whole group of them to make it happen.


















