Just a quick picture-free post about some musings

Hi All,

I'm just taking a few minutes out of my lunch hour - and my knitting - to post about a couple of things I've been thinking about.

On the Metro this morning, I spoke to a fellow knitter who was making slippers. She said she had not knit in the round yet and would like to try her hand at socks but feared it was difficult. "Puh-shaw!" I said, and pulled out my copy of Cool Socks, Warm Feet. I told her what I tell everyone: if you can knit and purl, you can handle anything. Period. If you're really curious, read Montse Stanley. As a knitter, so far, the hardest thing I've had to learn is Channel Island cast-on. That took some practice. I will also admit to hating anything to do with gauge, which is probably why I have yet to knit a sweater, although that's a challenge for next year. And heck, if I can knit a swatch for socks, I can knit a swatch for a sweater! I must admit to not being so obsessive that I would actually launder the darn thing, but if anyone has horror stories to share about how that might have come back to bite them in the rear end, those would be most welcome.

What really amazed me this morning is that there were not two, but three knitters around where I was sitting. I started on the Baby Bobbi Bear, my fellow knitter was working on slippers, and another woman was working on something green with cables or a very textured stitch. Not only that, but day before yesterday, a woman who got on at Takoma sat down next to me while I was knitting socks, and said she would join me in knitting. She said she was making a vest in bluebell stitch, which I found quite impressive. She was very nice, and it was nice to be able to talk to a fellow knitter without feeling that you were speaking Chinese. Not that there's anything wrong with speaking Chinese.

Knitters seem to be coming out of the woodwork around Christmas, since everyone's on a deadline, but I'm amazed at the number of knitters I've seen on the Metro in recent months. And this got me thinking: what exactly is behind the urge to craft and to make something with our own hands? I think there may be an urge that goes beyond the process itself, although I will admit to being much of a process knitter. I don't mind not hanging on to what I make. I like moving on to the next thing and trying something different. But I also wonder if - and please tell me if I'm being a pompous ass here - it's not a way for humans to seek a form of permanence. What you build, or knit, or make, may well outlive you. We'll all croak eventually, but the sweater, or the toy we make for ourselves or for a relative may well be handed down in the family. Or in the case of that horrendous brown, orange, yellow and green afghan Aunt Trudie made when you were three, it will help warm a homeless person through the winter.

The other thing I was thinking about is trends. I've recently hopped onto the Blythe doll bandwagon - I'm looking to buy two - Star Dancer and Prima Ashlet - and I've been wondering why the heck I'm even considering this. It's a doll. I never played with dolls as a kid. I loved Legos and Playmobils. I had a set of Indian Playmobils when I was little. I think this whole Native American Law thing is really my mother's doing, even though I'm not Native by one iota - though I am one eighth German. But why the heck am I so enthralled by this? My father-in-law once suggested that the only reason we shop at sales is to prevent others from getting our stuff. They are our good deals, not anyone else's. Like a form of territoriality, you could say. So suddenly, Blythe dolls are cool, and I just gotta have one. Why, oh why? I could spend my money much more wisely. But I can't help but like the idea of dressing her up and snapping pictures.

It's a little bit like when the Lomo camera became the hipster thing to have back when I was a student. I found a cheap one in a store in Paris that still had former East German photography equipment it was looking to liquidate. The nice thing about the Lomo is that, although obviously not digital, it has a more than decent lens and is very small, although surprisingly heavy for its size. I took a few decent pics with it. But now, why a Blythe doll? What's the appeal? I think that with knitting, and the Blythe doll too, it's the feeling of belonging to a group of like-minded people who reject mainstream consumerism. But let's be serious here: we are contributing to some form of consumerism. Maybe it's elitist consumerism. When we buy a skein of alpaca hand-dyed yarn in jewel tones, or spend $80 or more on a doll, aren't we somehow convincing ourselves that we're in on something that others aren't in on?

I'm not sure I want to explore that much further. I just want to think I'm hip (even though I know I'm not). But hipness inevitably involves excluding others, so ultimately, hipness ain't pretty.

Finally, the last thing I was thinking about was that I'm much more of a follower than a leader in terms of what's hip and cool. Because as it turns out, being at the cusp of the next big thing requires planning, effort, and somewhat of a Machiavellian perspective, none of which I'm really good at. I guess you probably need a certain sense of self and security in what you're doing, too. Maybe it's because I always hear about this stuff long after everyone else, but to a certain extent, it's kind of nice to be able to buy a sense of belonging. I'm not saying it's good, but it's nice to feel it. Belonging has a price tag, but I don't mind paying. Creating it yourself is just too much darn work.

On that note, I hope I haven't spoiled everyone's gift-giving and receiving this holiday season... Enjoy your presents and forget about what I said!

Happy Holidays,

Knitro