In October I ordered loads of Henry's Attic yarns through my first-ever yarn coop.
It arrived in February. I'm sure I had plans for this yarn -- I even have some of my scribbled notes -- but for the life of me I can't remember any of it.
So for the moment there's a big box of potential sitting in my yarn closet. I can almost see the moment when there are big hanks of colorful yarn hanging on my clothesline drying, but not quite. For now, I'm just going to wait until it comes into focus.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Monday, April 03, 2006
Everyday knitting
Lena's post has made me think about everyday knitting -- knitting that may well have a short and inglorious future.
I grew up in Illinois, and lived in Vermont, Michigan and Minnesota as an adult. Now we live in Oklahoma, and there is much less call for warm knitted things. I've knitted sweaters for my children, and they wear them, but they don't NEED them.
For the last year, though, my daughter has been wearing wool pants over her (cloth) diapers. The wool doesn't wick moisture, so keeps her clothes dry while letting air through to her bottom.
I've got to tell you, I just love seeing her wear things I made for her as part of her everyday clothes.
I think you can see here that some of these have had some serious wear. The crotch bits are felted, some of the colors are fading. But several times a day my husband and/or I have been dressing her in things made just for her. Two of them (the blue one and the multicolored pink one) are made of handspun.
It has made me look at knitting a little differently. Maybe if I pick just the right yarn and just the right pattern, someone will love what I make enough to wear it out!
The title of this post refers to Annemor Sundbo's book Everyday Knitting: Treasures from a Ragpile. She owns a shoddy mill in Norway, which shreds knitted garments and recycles the fiber. The book shows items she pulled out of the 16 tons of discarded garments that were on site when she bought the factory. Many of them are in serious disrepair -- patched, repaired, and finally worn out. It's a different view of knitting than the one we usually see, but one worth thinking about. Thanks, Lene, for reminding me of it!
I grew up in Illinois, and lived in Vermont, Michigan and Minnesota as an adult. Now we live in Oklahoma, and there is much less call for warm knitted things. I've knitted sweaters for my children, and they wear them, but they don't NEED them.
For the last year, though, my daughter has been wearing wool pants over her (cloth) diapers. The wool doesn't wick moisture, so keeps her clothes dry while letting air through to her bottom.
I've got to tell you, I just love seeing her wear things I made for her as part of her everyday clothes.
I think you can see here that some of these have had some serious wear. The crotch bits are felted, some of the colors are fading. But several times a day my husband and/or I have been dressing her in things made just for her. Two of them (the blue one and the multicolored pink one) are made of handspun.
It has made me look at knitting a little differently. Maybe if I pick just the right yarn and just the right pattern, someone will love what I make enough to wear it out!
The title of this post refers to Annemor Sundbo's book Everyday Knitting: Treasures from a Ragpile. She owns a shoddy mill in Norway, which shreds knitted garments and recycles the fiber. The book shows items she pulled out of the 16 tons of discarded garments that were on site when she bought the factory. Many of them are in serious disrepair -- patched, repaired, and finally worn out. It's a different view of knitting than the one we usually see, but one worth thinking about. Thanks, Lene, for reminding me of it!
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