Flawed Shawls - Responses to Knitting as Lifestyle

Thank you so much for all the insightful and thoughtful comments to my piece on why I worry we are slowly killing off the craft revival. I am going to highlight a couple of responses and then, perhaps paradoxically, I am going to respond to my own post. Austen wrote about her own personal and professional experiences in Craft/Life and also linked to this fascinating blog post about similar(?) issues in food blogging (skip halfway down for the good bits). Heather took her cues from one of the many Twitter discussions and examined the representation of the Self in everyday knitting. Finally, Ellen wrote quite a meaty response in which she pondered knitting as a subculture.

I have been mulling over my own response.

I am not sure where knitting is heading as a community but I worry we are starting to talk way too much about ‘personal brands’ and ‘lifestyle’ instead of talking about the actual things we make. I love the act of making something - seeing something come into existence because my brain and hands made that thing happen - and I love seeing what other people make. Making is an act of story-telling and it is a story so much more powerful than any photo of me holding a branded 'limited-edition' purse with needles sticking out. No, the branded purse photo does not exist but it's the sort of thing I worry we will see emerging on social media a year from now.

(You don't see this happening? That's okay. I don't think I would have felt the urge to write all this if we were already in this place. Like most future predictions, this is all about the paths we choose to take right here, right now.)

So, let's talk more about making things. Make things you love, not because you think you should. Choose to make things because they will bring enjoyment to you in your life. Share the things you enjoy making and do so with pride. Making stuff is not a race and not a competition - everybody's life is different and that is fine. Make only that which is beautiful and useful to you at the pace you find most compatible with the rest of your life. And if making something sucks, it's okay to stop making it even if everybody else thinks it's awesome.

(And if you do not agree with me in any of this, that is sort of the point too.)

Yes, part of it also comes down to my personal struggle to think kind thoughts of myself. I have a strong streak of perfectionism in me and I never feel like anything I do has any merit (until six months later when I look back and am surprised by how nice something is). And this makes it tough to accept compliments. Louise once said something to me when I was having a bit of a wobble:

We are [all] like the shawl that gets admired and we cannot help but say - "Oh! but there is a hole here that you can barely see. I am showing you this because I made a mistake. Am I not a less accomplished knitter due to this flaw?"

This struck a chord with me because one of my pet peeves is when somebody comes up to me wearing a beautiful shawl they've knitted and then react to my compliment by pointing out all the places they've deviated from the pattern. I tell them to own the shawl they have made, to celebrate their accomplishments as a knitter and as a maker-of-things, and yet I do this knee-jerk self-effacement myself when people say nice things to me. Working on accepting compliments is on my list.

So, when I receive emails talking about "lifestyle branding strategies" - well, it weirds me out a bit. Partly because I am not sure why anybody would want lifestyle commandments from me and partly because I'm not really sure who I am. Life is an on-going process and we all contain multitudes - so why try to pin things down? Why not just throw ourselves into this wonderful mire we call life and try to muddle our way through? And maybe, just maybe, try to make sense of it all by making stuff (creating order from chaos!) and sharing our making efforts with strangers who may/may not become friends?

We are all in this together, flawed shawls and all.

Where Are We Heading? Knitting as Lifestyle Brand?

Lately I have been thinking a lot about celebrity, privilege, aspiration and the craft world. Could I have picked thornier topics? Probably not. Apologies for the long rant ahead. I had a lot to squeeze in and I could not always go as in-depth as the subject required. Thanks to my job I spend a lot of time on Pinterest and looking at personal craft websites. After a while much of it blurs into one giant peach/mint blob of perfectly-coiffured people showing me how to make organic acai berry mojitos in expensively procured 'authentic' jam jars. It feels like much of the 'making' out there is now designed to get commercial brands interested in working with you rather than about the crafting/making itself. In its own way this reflects the lifestyle websites GOOP and Preserve launched by celebrities like Gwyneth Paltrow and Blake Lively. These are aspirational websites. Websites that  are full of words like 'artisan', 'authenticity', and 'mindfulness' - whilst making you feel you are a bit of a failure for not being tall, skinny, blonde and rich.

This depresses me. The craft revival is precariously close to becoming Gooped and I fear we could be looking at the peach/mint-coloured beginning of the end if we are not careful.

Looking from a knitting industry & community perspective, we are not quite a peach/mint-coloured blob but we are looking awfully white, able-bodied, heterosexual and middle-class. I've thought a lot about the idea of privilege in knitting and I've had very long discussions with myself - from "Ravelry is showing us such a vast cross-section of body types" and "Knitting makes good clothes super-affordable" to the way I present my own identity online. It took me a long time to realise that the majority of popular patterns on Ravelry show a conventionally attractive white woman as their main photo; it took me far less time to notice how much we talk about high-end yarns. For years we have been having conversations about diversity in knitting, and yet I was strangely reluctant to start designing garments because I am plus-sized (I loathe this term, incidentally). Why did I feel so unsure of my body type in an environment that seemed to celebrate diversity? This was my personal light-bulb moment. The knitting world is not Goop or Preserve, but it is a great deal safer, more conventional and much more aspirational than we may like to admit.  I mean, when one of the most controversial topics in recent knitting times was simply that a guy was wearing make-up in photos, it is maybe time to hit pause and reflect a bit. 

So I hit upon a snag when it came to body image, but there is no denying that I am privileged. I am white, I scrub up nicely in photographs, and I can write fully-formed sentences in my second language from my charming kitchen office in adorable Scotland. It's a nice mental image, isn't it? You can almost taste the homemade acai berry mojito, right? I've written about this previously - but the knitting community does not tend to share the complexities of our every day existence (a few people do; most don't). And I am one of the ones who shy away from writing about the darker sides of life. Writing about artisan yarns, authenticity in design, and mindful knitting is a lot nicer - even if it veers awfully close to Goop territory. I wonder if we are seeing a slow slide into lifestyle marketing of knitting? Will the knitting world eventually become a peach/mint-coloured blob as lifestyle becomes more important than what we make? 

In my 2013 post I asked what would happened if we had to be ourselves online rather than a 'carefully pruned, shaped thing that is presented to you [as] truth' (to quote the author Jean Rhys)? The overwhelming response was that people were worried about presenting themselves as failures and that they felt compelled to be positive. I wrote that two years ago and I find it really interesting to compare the discussion to the idea of 'a personal brand' which is really pervasive in the knitting industry now. We have specialised marketeers now that work on defining brand identities, deliver customised social media content, and create marketing strategies for individual designers. I know some of them (all incredibly talented and hard-working people) and I am happy to see them work with some incredible designers that benefit from having a social media presence etc. On the other hand, there has been a real growth in out-of-nowhere 'life coaches' that talk about 'being your Passion', 'finding your personal Joy', spirituality, self-awareness, and so forth. This development confused me at first as I had assumed professional business advice would be flowing into the industry (accountants, graphic designers, admin tools) but I am wondering if it is the first sign that lifestyle branding is taking over? Working in the industry is now a lifestyle that necessitates a life coach, but not an accountant? Really? Will knitters be the next ones to need gentle guidance?

But going back to the idea of 'a personal brand', I have always struggled with this. Like so many other people in this knitting world, I am an introvert. I have a rich inner life; I like spending time on my own; I am quiet; and I like all those stereotypical introvert pursuits like reading a book, writing, and going to the library. Having to talk about myself and my work is really, really hard for me and while I love meeting other knitters, I find crowds quite stressful. Ultimately I rebel against the 'personal brand' tag because my job isn't about me - it is about knitters. I was once asked 'what do you want to be known for?' and my honest answer was this: I don't want to known for anything.' For me, my job is to be a catalyst: Doggerland was about knitting inner landscapes and enjoying soothing, meditative knits as much as it was about making a shawl. It was about the person making the shawl, not about the person who wrote the pattern. It's really, really not about me (even as I'm having this semi-rant).

Finally, a call to arms. Let us focus on the simple things in knitting. Let us make things because they bring us happiness. Let us focus on the knits and the purls. Let us embrace the joy of making something that keeps us warm in the depths of winter or on a cool summer's night. Let us recognise and celebrate that we are all just ourselves. Reject the commodification of 'the knitting lifestyle'. Reject narratives that tell you that you are too old, too young, too fat, too skinny, too anything to wear/make something. Reject narratives that only tall, skinny, blonde and rich actresses are worth our time. Reject notions that you have to knit with super-expensive yarns or circular needles to be a 'real knitter'. Be yourself and enjoy your knitting.

Pass me the authentic superfood jam jar mojito.

Textile Conservation & Further Thoughts

Yesterday I was invited to an event at Glasgow University's Centre for Textile Conservation and Technical Art History. Not only did this mean I got to meet students and see the objects they were working on, but I also learned about the science behind what we see in museums and private collections. Some things were familiar to me (like dye pots!) and then I ran into a Ph.D. student who showed me a fantastically complicated machine that extracted chemical profiles from 17th century China textiles. The Centre had only invited people working with textiles one way or another, and I found it hugely invigorating to see the multiple ways we can approach textiles (it's been a very good week for that!). If I had not been absolutely shattered, I would have stayed much, much longer.

But I have been very shattered this weekend thanks to a very hectic weekend. EYF has rippled into this week with plenty of emails and a lot of follow-ups - I am still trying to get to grips with those, apologies. I have also been curled up in my favourite arm chair thinking about stuff. I spent the past weekend in the company of some rather incredible people. The Edinburgh Yarn Festival was home to a lot of strong, bold and interesting people with Thoughts and Ideas. I came away encouraged by the positivity, the warm support, and the ingenuity of the people I met. I spoke with some very smart people who gave me plenty food for thought. I was surrounded by people who did not fit into society's preconceived ideas of what we should think, believe or do - and I feel so encouraged to see people questioning all the big narratives surrounding gender, fashion, consumerism, and technology.

These past few days I have been thinking a lot about the Thing-ness of Things, too. What materiality means and how the physical nature of Things impact our perception of them. A weighty tome. That yarn has a nice handle. I have a favourite knitting needle that 'sits right' in my hand as I work with it. I will need to think more about these Things and start figuring out what the Thing-ness of Things mean when it comes to my work. Maybe when my brain is back to full speed.

Plans for the rest of the week: tomorrow I'm releasing the very last instalment in the Old Maiden Aunt/Karie Westermann sock club (this last sock pattern happens to be my favourite..) and Saturday I am teaching Continental Knitting at Glasgow's The Queen of Purls, so do pop along to that one!

Caritas: On the Thorny Issue of Charity Knitting

I have been involved with various charity knitting projects in my time. Quite apart from knitting for various projects, I helped out with the Garterstitch100 project which made blankets for women's shelters and I have also been a coordinator for a premature baby knitting project. I have seen both sides of charity knitting and it's been interesting. Recently I came across some thoughtful - and thought-provoking - blog posts on charity knitting. Ben wrote about wanting to know the facts behind the stories in the media. He found out that a popular crafting-for-charity story had a religious agenda. He concluded:

Crafters need to interrogate the traditional “charity” narratives their disciplines are attached to. They need to be honest about the motivations behind their charity-craft, and make sure that the charities they support really align with their values. They also need to accept that charity-craft, as a model, is usually more about the desires of the giver than it is about the needs of the receiver.

Rachel wondered why the knitters keep getting asked:

When was the last time you saw a charity campaign asking people with hobbies such as carpentry, embroidery, sculpting or painting, to create a throwaway object in order to ‘raise awareness’? I doubt that you have and I doubt that you will. So why do knitters get targeted? Do the marketing and PR departments of charities think that knitters have nothing better to do with their skills, time and resources than make small hats for drinks bottles? Why do these campaigns always fall to the knitters and why do we keep entertaining them?

I urge you to read both these blog posts. Not only are they interesting, but they also deal with a complex topic in ways that deserve your attention.

I support charity knitting because I recognise that a) people feel the need to give back and show care for their fellow human beings. b) knitting (and other types of crafting) is a way of showing this care and love, and c) it can genuinely transform some people's lives and show compassion and hope where often there is nothing to be found. Yet - I have mixed emotions about charity knitting and I'll be trying to unpack them below.

Sometimes charity knitting projects live up to their name - caritas means "the love for all" or "to care for your neighbour" - and I have personally heard moving stories of a woman escaping domestic abuse snuggling up with a handmade blanket in a shelter, a guy who taught himself to knit preemie hats because his little daughter was fighting for her life in hospital, and knitters getting together across continents to make a blanket for cancer survivors. Powerful stories where knitting becomes synonymous with care, love, hope and friendship. Powerful stories where a knitter's simple act of caring transformed lives.

Other times I look at a campaign like Innocent Drinks' The Big Knit which has knitters make tiny hats for smoothie bottles. Did you know that each smoothie sold equates to just 25p donated to Age UK? Did you know that Innocent Drinks is 90% owned by Coca-Cola? If you work out the maths of cost of yarn + time spent on knitting = each hat actually generates less money than if you had donated the cost of yarn to the charity - and if you figure the ownership by Coca-Cola into the equation, it becomes clear that this is more a branding exercise than an act of charity. Your time, your money, and your wonderful kindness can be better spent elsewhere - a direct donation to Age UK would be better and you can source a charity local to you who will appreciate your knitting efforts.

When I was co-ordinating and collecting premature baby knitting projects, I was struck by the beautiful things that people made and donated, but we also saw people handing in downright filthy knitted items for the premature baby unit: things that reeked of cigarette smoke or were covered with unexplained stains. We had to throw these items away because we did not have the facilities (or money!) to wash all these clothes before we brought them to the unit. I actually spoke to one "repeat offender" who got very angry when I explained why I could not accept filthy items. "Well, you should be happy for just getting something," she replied when I explained that dirty clothes would make very tiny, very ill human beings even more sick. I think back to what Ben was pointing out: sometimes charity knitting is more about the maker than the receiver. It saddened  and shocked me - but I have since come across that attitude in other charity contexts. "Poor or ill people should be grateful for whatever they get" (not much caritas in that!).

I wish people wanting to knit for charity would spend time researching before making decisions about what to support. Does a heart-warming campaign actually support a charity whose aims are less than heart-warming? Will your time & effort result in changing people's lives or just boost the bottom-line of one of the world's largest companies (and would you be better off  just donating money to the cause)? Is what you are making appropriate for the charity? Does the charity you support actually want hand-knitted items? Are you using appropriate materials or are you "just using up stash"? Do your research and do it carefully and with thought.

I'd love to read your thoughts and comments - I'm particularly interested in hearing about lesser-known charity projects that you are able to recommend to people wanting to make a difference.

Pattern: the Chinese Kites Shawl

Chinese Kites was originally printed in a UK magazine last year. Rights reverted to me around the start of this year and I just added "release CK" to my massive to-do list. You know what those lists are like; they are a big black hole and no matter how many boxes you tick, that list just keeps getting longer.

Then I realised the shawl is perfect for teaching a lot of things.

I use it when I teach beading techniques because it has optional levels of beading, uses one specific technique (the crochet hook method) and there are reasons why you cannot use other methods. I use it when I teach crochet because it has an optional crochet cast (the pattern includes a knitted cast-on too) and people often don't realise how effective an easy crochet cast-off looks when knitting lace. Finally, I use it when I teach lace knitting and lace shawls. I explain the construction and the design decisions involved in the shawl.

Basically, Chinese Kites is a fun shawl to knit - and it is very pretty too. So many students has come up to me and asked where they could buy the pattern, and that's when I decided I needed to move "release CK" to the very top of that big, scary to-do list.

The shawl is inspired by a a photo of competitive kite flying in the Chinese region of Weifang. I saw it at a photo exhibition and the explosion of colours and forms stayed with me. I began thinking about how I could translate this image into knitting and this is the result. There are a lot of triangles in this pattern - that was a big design decision for me. There are five different types of triangles.

1) The shawl is one big triangle

2) and that big triangle consists of two smaller triangles

3) then you have the big triangular 'kites' flying around the border

4) on top of a field of small triangles

5) and, finally, the crochet border blocks into a neat row of small triangles

(that's how my design brain works, folks)

The shawl is knitted in a luscious, luscious BFL 4ply/fingering from Eden Cottage Yarns. I wanted a rich, deep and dramatic jewel colour and Vikki of ECY came up trumps with her Fuchsia colourway. It is an incredible semi-solid - it doesn't look it in the skein, but it shimmers subtly from one shade to another when you knit. I was deeply impressed.

(Psst, you can actually see the shawl 'live' at the ECY stall at the Ally Pally show this week)

The low-down: The Chinese Kites Shawl is now available to download for £3.00 It uses between 400 and 430 yrds of 4ply/fingering yarn (watch your gauge) 4mm needles / 0.75mm crochet hook (for beads) / 4mm crochet hook (for crochet cast-off) You'd need between 0-500 beads depending upon your beading preferences Difficulty level depends upon whether you decide to use beads and/or the crochet cast-off.

I still have a backlog of previously released patterns but I swear I'm working through them as fast as I can (whilst also working on new patterns). Hope you'll enjoy knitting Chinese Kites and that you'll have fun choosing colours.

Knit Works - A Weekend of Creativity & Scandinavian Love

Being of Nordic persuasion, it was perhaps inevitable that I ended up working at Knit Works in Edinburgh this past weekend.

Knit Works was a collaboration between the National Museum of Scotland, The Danish Cultural Institute, Edinburgh Fashion Festival and local yarn shop McAree Brothers with Rowan Yarns donating a sizeable amount of yarn to the event. I helped supervise and cheerlead a staggering amount of knitters as they worked on a collaborative project celebrating Scottish and Nordic knitting culture. Although it was a very busy weekend, Knit Works was also a nice change of pace for me. I had spent the previous weekend working at Unwind Brighton and I could not help but marvel at the differences between the two events.

I think we talk a lot about the knitting community - making it sound as though it is a monolithic, homogeneous entity with similar tastes, attitudes, and interests. I would suggest it is better to talk about the knitting communities as knitters are very diverse with very different approaches to knitting, tastes and lifestyles.

While Unwind was very much about physically consolidating a pre-existing online community, Knit Works felt like giving various communities the chance to meet however briefly. It attracted a lot of knitters who were seasoned knitters-in-public, who wielded charts with ease, and who were comfortable going off script. Being in the middle of the National Museum, it also caught the attention of tourists: people who were unused to following English-languaged instructions, people who knew how to knit a little and people who were just excited to get into crafts for ten minutes. We also got a lot of people who were seasoned knitters but had never knitted in public before, people who discovered the pleasure of meeting other knitters, and people who found it a challenge to talk and knit at the same time. I found it incredibly interesting to watch this merging of communities and seeing people finding common ground through knitting.

(I will never tire of watching knitters' hands work, incidentally.)

Carol Meldrum, Heather Peterson and I worked out a design based upon the squares knitters had handed in on the day. Originally the plan had been to have a giant Norwegian-style snowflake on a neutral background. We received so many colourful, vibrant, and interesting squares that we revised the plan significantly.

Instead we devised a colourwash design (I was briefly accused of having colour OCD, thank you Carol) which allowed a lot of beautiful squares to shine. We also had a pile of swatches donated to us by the machine knitting girls from Brora, pom poms were donated by kids who had been yarn-bombing the museum, and we were given pretty crochet squares from an Arne & Carlos workshop (totally hyggelige guys in that very special Scandinavian way).

Within ten hours of starting we went from a pile of yarn to a big, colourful blanket that will be touring Scotland over the next few months. It helps when you have a lot of happy knitters on hand to help you. I found it really nice to spend time among Scandinavians (we had a good turn-out of those, tak!) and just chill out with knitting for once.

However, after the last two weeks, I am seriously shattered. I'm a textbook introvert and the next few days will be spent recharging my batteries. As much as I love meeting knitters & getting all excited about making other people excited, I'm going to enjoy my own company and some blessed solitude with a dash of knitting. Hopefully it will rain.

Ahhhh...