Tag Archives: knitting

too hard.

photo 1 (26)I make a lot of different stuff. Since I was in my teens, I’ve made clothing, quilts, embroidery and cross stitch projects. There have been forays of varying success in needlepoint, drawing, metalwork and sculpture. Cooking, baking, canning, and various side alleys into fermenting, fizzing, and pickling things. Sometimes I take to these projects and sometimes I don’t – occasionally I stick with them long enough to get good. Except for knitting. I can’t do it. Nothing about it makes sense to me, and everything about it feels uncomfortable to my body. I’ve been taught to knit three times, and each one was more befuddling and less lasting than the time before.

So when I recently needed something to do that would take my mind off a hard situation and keep my hands busy, I thought, “Right, I’ll teach myself to knit once and for all.” I bought a set of bamboo size 8 needles (short ones! that may have made all the difference.), and a skein of generic yarn, and I hit YouTube to figure out how to cast on. I watched a 1 minute and 31 second video approximately 20 times until I kind of thought I had it. Then I pulled all the stitches off my needles and did it again. And again. And again. And then one more time until I felt comfortable attempting the knit stitch. Which I did, by the same process, and knit several rows and then pulled it all out and cast on again just to be sure I remembered how, and knit more rows and pulled it all out again and redid it. At this point, hubris set in. I thought, now I’ll learn to purl! It’ll be fine.

photo 2 (25)

It was not fine. I watched an assortment of six different videos about how to purl and I could not do it. It’s backwards, for pity’s sake. It’s unnatural. I went back to knit stitch and decided I’d just work on perfecting my tension and holding the needles more naturally. Which I did, only by then I’d reached the point in learning something new where you start to be really bad at it, even though it was going ok before. So I may as well learn to purl, dammit, because I’m now dropping stitches after knitting 40-something perfect rows. You don’t have to be an expert at everything. It’s just 20 short hours of commitment to learn something new. I was already about 8 hours in, don’t turn back now. Back to YouTube I went, and three more videos later I finally found one that I could follow.

Knitting is one of those magic alchemy things, like making marshmallows, where the final product is greater and more complex than the sum of its parts. You change one small thing, the direction of the needle encountering the yarn, and it changes everything about what you’re making. I purl now, I know how. These days I’m practicing even turns at the ends of rows, as well as stitch tension and holding my needles properly. My practice piece of knitting looks janky as sin, and I have never been prouder of anything I’ve made. In a couple weeks, I might even try reading a pattern. It’s too hard, but so is all the good stuff.

photo (39)


dressing daisy kutter.

My wonderful friend Dennice makes brilliant, very sexy accessories with the use of yarn and needles. I make very sexy, kind of surprising jewelry with the use of pliers and wire. We share a similar aesthetic and inspirations, and are turned on by classic Hollywood glamour, rusty metal, liquids, Westerns, and accurate spelling. From time to time through our correspondence, our interests come together in a single idea, and we play it out in our two different mediums. Some time ago, we both read Kazu Kibuishi’s graphic novel Daisy Kutter: The Last Train, and were captivated by the stubborn, curly-haired heroine who embraces bad decisions with a whole heart and a loaded weapon. We were also impressed at how well accessorized she is, and that got us started.

Both pieces will be listed today in our respective shops, with more complete descriptions.