No one's reading here yet, anyway. I'm waiting to pimp this out (yo) until I have pictures.
So, my teacher loved my last journal entry, which has encouraged me to assume The Punk Knitter for these journals. I'm not punk. I'm a sissy indie kid (with better beating skills). My music isn't loud and screamy (unless it's ironic) and I don't own a studded belt. But, as far as knitters go, punk works for me. If it doesn't work for you, "Go to hell. We're outa soup" as my favorite co-worker would say. You wouldn't get off so well with me. I'd tell you to "Fuck off and die."
Excited with the prospect of learning to knit socks from the top down (novel concept, really), I set off on an adventure last Tuesday being generally free from classes and other obligations. I spent Monday night pouring over WCKG’s list of yarn shops, putting them all into Google Earth, reading reviews and searching out pricing and selection. Several tempting yarn shops popped up in what I dare say is the no-mans-land of Chicago, if still Chicago at all. I’d say nuclear suburbs. Certainly not reachable by any form of public transit, which is a must for me. A yarn shop that had actual hours was also preferable. So, after hours and hours of fighting with my options, I decided I’d skip on over to Loopy Yarns, which proved to be ridiculously convenient for me, as it’s just off the Red Line. Awesome.
I scampered into the shop and liked that it clearly didn’t take itself too seriously. Good yarn but no antique armoires guarding the yarnish treasures. Nothing snooty. Within moments, I was greeted by the owner, whose name I didn’t catch and wasn’t able to find out online. And she introduced me to Lorna’s Lace. We ping-ponged back and forth between the sock and DK weights and she told me all about these gorgeous yarns. I was sold. I found the perfect color and chatted with this wonderful lady as she rang me up (add in a pair of Brittany #3 dpns. How did I live without Brittany needles?). I signed up for the mailing list (they give out some form of birthday gift. Hooray!) and directly after she told me her total, she laughed and reminded herself that I was a student and gave me a discount.
As she balled my yarn (yarn balling devices fascinate me to no end), I casually asked her if she might be hiring in the near future. Affirmative. She has my name and number. She’ll call me. I will never walk out of there with any money, should I start employment there. She’ll take me with her when she goes to see the Lorna’s Lace dyeing studio. ♥! I told her a bit about the class, and she seem positively pickled with delight and asked me a bit about what we were up to. She then asked me what brought me into the store and seemed to love my answer. “Your shop was the easiest to get to and seemed like the least snooty!” She laughed and we talked about snooty knitters for a bit. Having grown up in Wheaton (putting my in close proximity to Naperville and Geneva), I’ve certainly been into my share of snooty knitting shops where the shopkeeper automatically assumed that I wouldn’t appreciate her wares. Granted, I couldn’t often afford the high-end yarns, but at least I was giving my business to a yarn shop and not a big chain craft store (I’m wont to do this too. Punk Knitter has to eat, drink and be merry in addition to knitting, after all) where 100% wool comes in three colors: cream, “reindeer” and “olive.” Please. It’s not the 30s or 40s!
And so, I made a friend. I’m going to take my socks down there when I hop down there for more yarn and show them off. While they are not shaping up to be the most exemplary of socks, I still taught myself to turn a heel, and that is impressive, if I do say so myself (I just did). My next personal project will be a winter hat that is an adapted children’s pattern . The hat looks like a Russian fur-lined cap with the flaps turned up all around, felted, with a big ol’ button in the front and I-cord trim in white all around. It is absurdly adorable and that is exactly the point. I’m thinking a nice dreamsicle orange or a poppy red. Hooray!
And so, the night after my adventure, while waiting for a boy to go and see a flick, I camped out in Starbucks and had a bad cup of coffee. Anyway, I pulled out my knitting and fell madly in love with Lorna and Brittany. I had, quite possibly, the best knitting experience ever, bad coffee aside. And I started thinking about that foolish, foolish cap I can’t wait to get on the needles.
So, what of knitting and fashion? Reading about accounts of fashion in McDonald got me thinking about fashionable knitting I might pursue. Certainly not an argyle sweater. I will admit that I found page 261’s knit suit to be beyond darling, though I’d raise the hem a bit since I do have the freedom to do so, maybe flare the hem out a bit more near the knees. Of course, a knit suit is probably the least practical thing in the entire world, I realize this, ditto a knit dress (which I’d have to have the figure of a twelve-year-old boy to pull off well, but I’ll not get started on that). I will, however, bring to attention the fact that I certainly wouldn’t mind a knitting (and rather cute, actually) Columbia undergrad to go steady with. And, I want to frame that picture of Katherine Hepburn and put it on my wall.
I would like to get around to designing my own patterns one of these days. I have a few ideas I’m kicking around, but I don’t have the brass to plan out something dramatic, hash it out, get everything cleanly oiled and perfect, nor the time. Maybe winter break shall be devoted to knitting when I’m not working (hooray new job as a barista/general cool lady in a Mediterranean café!). I’ll have the money to support my habit, that habit being yarn, not coke.
I’ve got a nice list of things I want to knit right now: that foolish cap, ribbed arm warmers that go up past my elbows (why not!), a cozy for my laptop, a pair of crazy long socks (like 40 inches, so as to slouch them like mad!), a stripey vertical-knit scarf and gloves for a friend. If I’m either very smart or very crazy, the cap, scarf and arm-warmers will match. That would make them all more wearable, but I might get sick of dreamsicle orange/poppy red and white. Ah well! Knit on!
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