As I've mentioned a couple of times, I've been attempting a bit of knitting recently. (Sadly, while I wait for Smidgen to shed enough hair for me to start spinning it into yarn, I've been having to make do with the non-animal-hair variety.)
A couple of you have asked what a snood is, which I thought was a bit strange, until I discovered that before the late 80s (when the snood as I know it, a tube-like scarf thing, became all the rage in North Berwick), THIS is what a snood looked like:
Um, no. That is not what I'm knitting for myself. And it is most definitely not what I knitted for Smidgen. I don't even know how that would work. Where would her ears go? What would the other dogs say? What would she wear it with? No. What I knitted for Smidgen was this:
I know. My skill as a knitter is dazzling. Behold the slightly wonky hole for her lead, the "rustic" ribbing, the body language that manages to convey shame and disgust in equal measures. In fairness, it could have been worse.
As for myself, I'm aiming for something like this...
...but I'm not going to get my hopes up too high.
This sudden, fervent obsession with knitting is quite a recent development in Operation Be More Creative. It all started when Zoë of Conversation Pieces and I decided in a moment of crafting madness to sign up to a knitting class. After a difficult and prolonged process involving muddled needles, panicked tweeting and An Unfortunate Incident With The Dog, we finally coaxed into being two perfectly imperfect hats (mine resplendent with an incredibly dense and heavy pompom. It's the pompom equivalent of a black hole).
I have never been so proud:
The hat in action. Isn't she beautiful?
Buoyed by my early success, I decided for my second project to knit the present for my Nosy Bitches gift recipient (who I can finally reveal was the lovely Trisha). Her favourite colour is purple and I think she has kind of an alternative vibe going on (she was a blue-haired bride!), so I picked up some purple yarn and got toknitting swearing unravelling knitting.
Can you guess what it is?
No? How about now?
Really? Still no? Okay, try this on for size:
Ta-da!
What do you mean, "are they legwarmers"? Of course they're not legwarmers! That would be completely ridiculous! Who would want a pair of legwarmers?!
They're handwarmers.
Which is, of course, not remotely ridiculous.
I did kind of write on the card what they were meant to be. Just, you know. In case. Obviously played the Scotland card too, to make them seem a bit more authentic and Celtic-y. As though maybe Trisha might read the card and think, "Oh, that must just be a special Scottish knitting technique. Those holes are probably intentional. Those crazy Scots. Probably drunk*."
I deliberately haven't posted a picture of me modelling them, because they make me look like I've got a broken arm. Or the wrist equivalent of a cankle. But I have seen a picture of Trisha rocking them, and they look ace on her, so that's some comfort.
If you fancy making some for yourself (and let's face it, who wouldn't?) I found the pattern here. I went for the pattern without a thumb-hole, because, well, I don't know how to knit thumb-holes yet. Tube-shaped things and pompoms are the entire extent of my abilities.
Pompom legwarmers, anyone?
Um, no. That is not what I'm knitting for myself. And it is most definitely not what I knitted for Smidgen. I don't even know how that would work. Where would her ears go? What would the other dogs say? What would she wear it with? No. What I knitted for Smidgen was this:
I know. My skill as a knitter is dazzling. Behold the slightly wonky hole for her lead, the "rustic" ribbing, the body language that manages to convey shame and disgust in equal measures. In fairness, it could have been worse.
As for myself, I'm aiming for something like this...
This sudden, fervent obsession with knitting is quite a recent development in Operation Be More Creative. It all started when Zoë of Conversation Pieces and I decided in a moment of crafting madness to sign up to a knitting class. After a difficult and prolonged process involving muddled needles, panicked tweeting and An Unfortunate Incident With The Dog, we finally coaxed into being two perfectly imperfect hats (mine resplendent with an incredibly dense and heavy pompom. It's the pompom equivalent of a black hole).
I have never been so proud:
The hat in action. Isn't she beautiful?
Buoyed by my early success, I decided for my second project to knit the present for my Nosy Bitches gift recipient (who I can finally reveal was the lovely Trisha). Her favourite colour is purple and I think she has kind of an alternative vibe going on (she was a blue-haired bride!), so I picked up some purple yarn and got to
Can you guess what it is?
No? How about now?
Really? Still no? Okay, try this on for size:
Ta-da!
What do you mean, "are they legwarmers"? Of course they're not legwarmers! That would be completely ridiculous! Who would want a pair of legwarmers?!
They're handwarmers.
Which is, of course, not remotely ridiculous.
I did kind of write on the card what they were meant to be. Just, you know. In case. Obviously played the Scotland card too, to make them seem a bit more authentic and Celtic-y. As though maybe Trisha might read the card and think, "Oh, that must just be a special Scottish knitting technique. Those holes are probably intentional. Those crazy Scots. Probably drunk*."
I deliberately haven't posted a picture of me modelling them, because they make me look like I've got a broken arm. Or the wrist equivalent of a cankle. But I have seen a picture of Trisha rocking them, and they look ace on her, so that's some comfort.
If you fancy making some for yourself (and let's face it, who wouldn't?) I found the pattern here. I went for the pattern without a thumb-hole, because, well, I don't know how to knit thumb-holes yet. Tube-shaped things and pompoms are the entire extent of my abilities.
Pompom legwarmers, anyone?
*Possibly true.
{Images: 1. tinpotlil on etsy. Is it wrong that I kind of like that dress?? 2&3. Hairnet-snood things: source unknown. 4. Me. 5. Laark chunky knit snood. 6. Lauren McGlynn 7-10. All me. Obvi.}
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