Ebony sox stix are fun to burn.

Only if they're broken, obv. And maybe only if you're a pyromaniac. But aren't we all?

Posted by Robynn at 10:43 PM | Permalink | 2 cups of tea on the table | TrackBacks (0)

So I may have been doing a little shopping lately.

Whoops.

It seems someone's been pushing my design button, because that's the reason behind almost all of these. Well, Scarf Style was mostly because I was so impressed with someone's Camelspin scarf (Ravelry link; wow, huh?). The Barbara Walkers and Righetti can be filed under "everybody else has them, why can't I?" (Or even a sort of guilt... like, how can I pretend to be a designer* without these Seminal Texts?) New Pathways was all about wanting to understand alternative constructions; similarly, I'd seen enough of Knitting New Scarves to think there was some very unorthodox fabric construction going on there, and I wanted to explore that, even though I'm really unlikely to actually make many of those as scarves.

And then there's Inspired to Knit. Which was pretty much a whim, as I'd hardly had a chance to peek at the book at all - but I had vaguely heard something about there being stuff about how to write patterns in it, and it looked sort of pretty, and I just *wanted* it, although I really didn't know what to expect.

Wow.

I love it so much, I sort of don't want to put it on the shelf. I want to tuck it inside my bra for safekeeping. I want to sleep with it under my pillow so I can absorb its genius in my sleep. Which is possibly a strange sort of overreaction. I mean, for starters, the design-school stuff is actually not that interesting. (At least, not to me, but to be fair, I've read a lot of design books already; I'm not sure what I might possibly wanting out of any more books, but it's not going to be found in any mostly-patterns book.) And then the designs themselves are not actually groundbreaking. It's not like something from Norah Gaughan, or Cat Bordhi, or indeed Lynne Barr (that New Scarves book), something that makes you go "wow! Who would think of *doing* that?"

It's just really, really, really pretty. Almost everything in it has that WANT! factor. And a lot of it seems like something I might have designed myself (if I were as talented as Michele Rose Orne, that is; that wasn't meant to sound quite so presumptuous!). They're right up my style alley. Look! Victoriana!

I love the concept of this - a lacy scarf attached to a heavier jacket - although I'm a bit bored by the jacket part of it. And I'd change the closure. How about holding it together with a shawl pin? Or even tying it with the scarf collar itself? Or maybe just using a satin ribbon? Hm. I guess I'm not sure exactly why I'm so un-enthused about that knitted tie. I just think it could be prettier. But still - the overall design? Lovely.

There is pretty much nothing at all I'd want to change about this, though.

The book's layout, with a little design sketch included for each pattern, is very appealing. I love fashion drawing. And it's interesting to see how, in some cases, the design seems to have changed a bit from its (presumably) initial conception. A minor example here:

The closure at the neck gives quite a different effect to the zip used in the final version, and I doubt I would have thought of doing that myself if presented with a zip design - but I much prefer it. Incidentally, don't you love how these big cabled cuffs suggest a furry muff?

Totally yummy book. Yum yum yum. It's got lace, cables, colourwork, shaping, beautiful finishing details and carefully worked out construction - everything a knitter who likes her projects to hold her interest could possibly want.

_____
* Which I don't, as it happens, but that's a whole other complicated issue.

Posted by Robynn at 04:06 PM | Permalink | 5 cups of tea on the table

Stand still without falling over.
See straight.
Talk without slurring (at least up till my second or third cocktail).
Walk unassisted.
Expect to live for more than another 7 years.

Turns out, my friend Lucy's father can no longer say the same, thanks to progressive supranuclear palsy. Which is why our team for the British 10k is running in aid of the PSP Association. Lucy says they have been a big help to her family.

I'm not really very comfortable with fundraising, for all sorts of not very good reasons. Usually when I race, I do it for me, and I don't ask for sponsorship. But now I'm asking. I bet you've never heard of PSP before, and I bet you'd be really glad this association existed if someone close to you was diagnosed with it. So this is for Lucy. I would really appreciate it if you would sling a couple of quid into the pot. Thank you.

Posted by Robynn at 02:57 PM | Permalink | 3 cups of tea on the table | TrackBacks (0)

We had a houseguest recently who was quite interested in my knitting, and admired all the gorgeous yarn, and sighed: "I wish I could knit."

Now isn't that a phrase that just makes you burn? I generally assume that it's a polite lie for "I have absolutely no interest in this, but I see that you quite enjoy it, and I wish I had something that I liked to do so much." Because of course, if you take the bait ("You can! It's so easy! I'll show you!") - well, that ends in nervous looks and stutters and a desperate bid for escape. So, as much to remind myself of this as anything else, I generally respond with: "I understand that knitting's not for everyone, don't worry, I don't mind if you're not interested."

But Tongtos insisted: "No, really, I would love to knit! I think it's wonderful! I really wish I could! But I'm terrible at it!"
"Oh," I said. "Well, have you tried much?"
"Yes, back in third grade, we did it in school and I just couldn't pick it up."

Now I ask you. Third grade. Please, when I did it in school I was the worst in the class. Seriously. What an idiotic idea to carry around with you: you couldn't do this when you were eight, so you can't do it ever.

And therefore I tend to revert to my initial interpretation: lack of interest. Because in the intervening 20 years, I'm sure Tongtos could have tried again if she wanted to. But of course this was the absolute worst thing she could have said, in terms of making me itch to convert her. I didn't try - I didn't see enough of her in the two days she was with us, and besides, there's that lack of interest thing. It just got me thinking again about the desire to spread the love of knitting far and wide.

I try to rein myself in, I really do. I absolutely know that not everyone wants to knit, or will like it if they try. I do tend to suspect that if someone says they "tried it, but didn't like it", they might have changed their minds if they just had better yarn, or needles, or a more fun project, or a better teacher... but I accept that very possibly, they Just Don't Like It. Different strokes. Okay. I can understand all that.

But you know what I really, really can't understand? What leaves me completely baffled? Knitters who like to knit, who are happy to occasionally talk about knitting... but who somehow have escaped the complete obsession that seems to take hold of so many of us. Knitters who haven't used their Ravelry account. Knitters who can pass by a yarn shop without even pausing for a moment. Knitters who admire what I'm working on, maybe ask how it's done, but don't actually want me to show them the answer, or to be introduced to the great patterns available online; knitters who you'll never actually see with knitting in their hands. How does that work? Casual knitters. It mystifies me.

Posted by Robynn at 11:21 AM | Permalink | 6 cups of tea on the table