Stitches West

Posted on February 27, 2013 by housewifery.org

It finally arrived – the trip we had been planning for over a year – a journey to Santa Clara, California. It was the year of Noelle’s 50th birthday and her wish was for us all in the knitting group to go to Stitches West (there is a Stitches Midwest in Schaumburg, but apparently Stitches West is the mecca of knitters). Unfortunately it didn’t work out for all of us – but 4 of us set out on a cold Thursday in February (as a snowstorm was rolling in).

The flight was extremely crowded because the entire UIC Flames baseball team was also traveling to Santa Clara (too cold to play in the Midwest in February). The boys were so cute and polite. We kept mentioning that we had daughters their age that they should meet. I’m sure they thought we were all just creepy.

We finally arrived at the Santa Clara convention center and hotel.

We quickly unpacked and then went outside to get a little sun. It was only 55 degrees, but felt so wonderful.

After a quick drink we headed to “The Market”. Thursday night was reserved for conference participants and we were to get a special preview.

I have been to one previous market, so I knew a little about what to expect. This market, however, was enormous. I could not even take it all in. We started in the back and started walking up and down the rows. All the yarn looked so beautiful. Everyone was touching yarn and oohing and ahhing.

Our first serious stop was in this booth:

This was hand dyed and so soft. I did not come prepared. I had no idea what I wanted to buy or make. I just selected two colors I loved and bought them. Then the knitters pointed out that I bought lace weight (needs small needles). I waited in line again and swapped for thicker yarn. I plan to make a cowl.

One reason the market is visually overwhelming is that the yarns, the sample garments, the shoppers and the vendors are all swathed in rainbows.

It all becomes a bit of sensory overload. I think this woman’s hair was even made of yarn:

There was a man dressed as wizard (could have been a woman) but I was not able to get a good pic.

Friday:

The classes started on Friday. Noelle and I set off to an all-day weaving class. Tracy took Latvian stitches and Mary Ellen took something with granny squares and crocheting (she was up late Thursday doing her homework).

I was excited about weaving. As I have a bit of arthritis in my hands I don’t think I’ll be knitting into my old age, but I can see myself weaving.

The class was set up with about 25 small looms. We were going to make a scarf using different types and colors of yarn. We spent the morning picking out our yarns. The teacher walked around and inspected all the yarn we had brought. She quickly rejected all the inappropriate yarns we had and helped us with color and texture. My yarns were pretty boring (gray and purple) so she gave me some bright green and blue to add in.

We threaded our looms.

After lunch we actually did the weaving. I have to say that moving that shuttle back and forth was making me a bit dizzy and was not as relaxing as I thought it would be. I was very clutsy and kept dropping things on the floor. Noelle had to reprimand me for shaking the whole table every time I bent over to retrieve something (pulling my entire loom with me). Noelle is concentrating quite hard on her scarf.

As my woven scarf came off the loom, I quickly realized it was going to be hideous. I walked around and looked at everyone’s scarves. They had some beautiful jewel tones and mine was so dull (what I should have expected with a gray “weft” yarn). I decided to switch to a purple weft yarn. I anticipated a beautiful plaid pattern emerging, and I was sure the teacher would compliment me on my vision. Sadly, it just looked like a mistake. The teacher held it up and said “Hmm, you changed your weft yarn?” “Yes,” I said. “Next time, try not to beat it so hard.” She dropped it on the table and moved on. Beating is how tight you pack the yarn in when you weave. I guess that’s why it is so stiff and wavy instead of soft and drapey. It is not at all what I imagined making. I texted a photo to Husband and he immediately became concerned that I would be returning with an industrial loom.

What I was most surprised about in the class is that knitters are not very friendly or helpful. They are all trying to show off their skills and knowledge and were not too interested in small talk.

Classes ended at 5:00. We hurried back to get ready for the evening activities – the fashion show and banquet. We had a drink in the bar and headed over around 6:15 for a 6:30 show. We were amazed to learn that women had been waiting in line since 4:30. They had dragged chairs over from the classrooms and sat and knit, waiting for the doors to open.

We were obviously then at the back of the line, so we sat in the back of the auditorium.

It was a full house. These women never stop knitting.

We chose drinking over knitting IMG_0107_2

I must say the fashion show was great. There were about 5 beautiful, tall, thin models who made even the dorkiest hand-knit garments look like high fashion. It was much more interesting than looking at samples on hangers.

After the show we transferred to a banquet room for dinner. Again, we ended up in the back. That was fine. We met some nice librarian knitters at our table. After the meal the emcees began giving out prizes. All of the vendors and yarn companies had donated great door prizes. A long line of “runners” lined up. As each name was called and an excited winner screamed, the runners ran to deliver their prize. About 40 people won prizes and it was getting quite irritating. We got nothing, but still had fun.

Saturday:

Another day of classes. Mary Ellen and I went to learn Scandinavian stitches. Noelle and Tracy went to a lining class (where they were subjected to a shoosher for 3 hours).

This class was great because no one knew what they were doing, so I wasn’t too far behind. We learned how to wind yarn like an old Scandinavian woman and then knit with these twisted stitches, carrying three balls of different colored yarn. We were to knit in the round on a pair of circular needles. Now, I knit in the round all the time – but with a single pair of circular needles. I can never figure out how to do it on two. Somehow, one needle always ends up flying off my work. To make things worse, for some reason I kept knitting but it was not turning out round. I finally had the nerve to show the teacher. She quickly fixed it for me and soon I had an adorable little Scandinavian finger warmer.

At lunch we ran back to the market. We bought some gifts for Sally and Tracey back at home. After the fashion show I had a better idea of what projects I would like to tackle. I bought a kit to make a cardigan with stainless steel blend yarn and some ribbon yarn for a sleeveless sweater. Some samples, however, just looked overwhelming and a little too Maude for me.

My afternoon class was skirt design for all shapes and sizes. They weren’t kidding. This class was chock full of full figures. I have never felt so young and thin in my entire life.

The class was fun. We learned how to design a skirt pattern to fit us perfectly. I do have yarn for this project. We’ll see how this goes.

Mary Ellen took a cable class. I lost track of the others.

That night was the student fashion show. This was absolutely the most bizarre thing I have ever seen in my life. Basically, anyone can participate in this show – you simply fill out a slip with info on your garment and then you walk the runway in your knitwear.

Once again we were in the back. Once again that was a good decision – we had a lovely group of librarians (I sensed a theme here). Here are a few samples of the models and their garments. There was amazing workmanship in many of these.

This was my favorite – the Lord of the Rings shawl. Apparently there is an entire series of these shawls that you can make.

During dinner, the woman across the table asked us to blow out our candle because the scent was bothering her. Now, this was a tiny, little candle inside a glass globe that had no discernible scent to the rest of us, but we complied. After dinner the door prizes started again. They gave away even more than the previous night. The woman at our table with the sensitive nose won something. They gave away $250 knitting bags and beautiful kits. Finally, at the second to the last prize they called my name. I won a kit to make cotton dishrags! It was a crochet kit. I don’t crochet. I tried to give it to Mary Ellen, but she had no interest.

We were thrilled to see a giant bag of door prizes get dropped off at each table. Tracy was put in charge and instructed on how to pass them out. Noelle was given a beautiful set of circular needles embellished with Swarovski crystals. I thought they were cool, but she was unimpressed. Mary Ellen was presented with a giant roll of Lion brand Zpagetti yarn in a kit to make a bowl. Tracy got a kit with a very hairy yarn that made a scarf by simply knotting the yarn! I got a skein of green cotton yarn with an unattractive pattern. Hey – at least we got something. I am looking forward to seeing the knotted scarf. They let Mary Ellen swap for something a bit better.

We were feeling a bit dejected as we headed to the elevators. We knew from experience that these elevators could take forever and knitters do not know how to queue. All weekend we had women shove past us to get on the opening elevators. We elbowed our way to the front and jumped on the first one. As the doors were closing a woman ran up and said, “Is there room for two more.” Noelle said, “That depends.” I waited for her to finish that thought, but she didn’t.

Sunday

We did not sign up for classes on Sunday. We had by now settled into a routine. Tracy slept in. Noelle, Mary Ellen and I worked out in the gym and then gorged on the giant breakfast buffet. We decided that if we carried out a muffin from the buffet we could even skip lunch. I ate a few bites of the muffin at the table so it looked like I was just trying not to waste food by taking it with me, Mary Ellen decided to just blatantly snatch the muffin on the way out.

Noelle spent the day with her sister, and the 3 of us went back to the market. I swore I wasn’t going to buy any more. I then found this adorable project bag in Star Wars fabric and a handblown glass button. Now I need a project to go under the button.

Sunday was the day that they drew the grand prize winner. We each had a few entries so we decided to stay and see if we won $1000. We planned to split the prize and buy 4 kits to make mink sweaters. The man with the box of entries walked through the market leading a pack of knitters like the Pied Piper:

A woman in a neck brace won 3rd prize. We could not begrudge her. Then two other women won the remaining prizes.

Dejected once more, we made on last lap around the market. The people watching never got old.

I went back to the room to add up the damages

Sunday night was Oscar night. Noelle and her sister went to Trader Joes, bought cheese and crackers and hummus, and we had a party in their room. Mary Ellen started winding a ball of yarn that strangely took her until Best Picture to finish

Monday:

The market was closed and the classes were ending. The hotel clientele changed from chubby middle aged women to business men. We stayed on to visit some wineries.

I have never done the wine tasting thing. We picked out three wineries. Each one had a $5 tasting where they poured us 5-6 one ounce samples. Here we are just starting out:

After the first winery I could tell I had enough. At the 2nd place I tried to just take small sips. By the 3rd I was dumping most of my glass into the spit bucket. I was regretting the platform sandals I was wearing. Fortunately we had hired a limo to drive the tipsy housewives around.

By the time we got back to the hotel we were starving. We found a nearby restaurant and feasted on french fries and Reubens for a late lunch. We had to walk through a strange industrial area and traverse a field of feral cats to get home.

We met up in Noelle’s room again to watch The Bachelor. Tracy summed up the day, “I have been drunk, hungover and recovered, all before dinner.” She was also regretting her excessive wine purchases. I don’t watch The Bachelor, but I guess I must tune in next week to see who he chooses.

Tuesday

Tuesday we checked out. Winter storm, Rocky, was blowing across the Midwest. We packed our bags. I don’t know how yarn can weigh so much – but our bags were heavy and bursting.

It was sad leaving, but I was ready to go home. I couldn’t look at one more variegated shawl.

Tracy was stressing about her suitcase possibly being over the 50 pound limit. She was also stressing about the probable flight delays. I, being the only empty nester, was completely unconcerned about returning to the cold. All the baggage worry was for naught. My bags came in at 49.5 pounds (10 pounds more than what I came with) and Tracy’s at 49.

We got to the airport and learned there was about an hour delay. Southwest was doing their best to scare away passengers. They said that due to weather they might not be able to land in Chicago, and we were on our own for lodging at any place we landed. I suggested trying to just get to Vegas for a few days.

We decided to eat lunch. Mary Ellen was not sure this was necessary. Traveling with Mary Ellen is like having our mom with us. When I had a coughing attack during the fashion show, she whipped out a cough drop. She always had an endless supply of Kleenex. Mary Ellen had apparently packed up the leftover hummus and cheese and crackers from the Oscar party and kept pushing it on us. We decided on sourdough sandwiches instead.

We then spread out with our laptops and knitting at the gate anticipating a long delay. it was not to be. They suddenly started boarding the plane. We scooped everything up and ran onto the plane. There were only a handful of passengers left. We each got our own row.

This was the best flight ever. We had room. The flight attendants gave us armfuls of snacks.

It was a peaceful, but long flight. Mary Ellen perused the Skymall magazine and we discussed the pros and cons of buying the mole remover system for our age spots. We then switched to knitting. Mary Ellen was making a headband with our Scandinavian stitches. She had a ball of red yarn dangling. A young man ran to the bathroom, caught his foot on her yarn and dragged it all the way down the aisle. I thought that was pretty funny until we landed and my ball of yarn flew off my seat and rolled under the seats in front of me.

We landed, quickly got off the plane and then were told there were no taxis. I don’t know what all the fuss was about. There was very little snow on the ground from this “Rocky.”

We finally got a cab and Mary Ellen sweet-talked him into dropping us all off at our respective houses. It was a great trip, but I have purchased enough yarn to last me a decade. Our next trip I think should be a pilgrimage to Downton Abbey.

Vogue Knitting

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Posted on November 14, 2012 by housewifery.org

Passing Fancy – the Pop Up Store

Posted on July 3, 2012 by housewifery.org

The “LilyPad Knits” etsy store was not a success. We were not willing to work for 50 cents an hour, and no one was willing to pay any more. You had to actually see our creations in person, we reasoned, to appreciate the fine craftsmanship. We needed a bricks and mortar store. However, rents were thousands of dollars a month (that’s a lot of scarves) and we would have to sacrifice all of our precious free time. Tracy, the most entrepreneurial of the knitters, was on a mission to find us a home. She had experience running home shows and selling through boutiques. She was ready to be her own boss.

Someone proposed starting with a craft fair. Sally and I tried a craft fair once. We constructed wooden displays from dowels to showcase our scarves (displays that fell apart within five minutes). We looked quite the amateurs in the church hall as the other vendors backed up vans of multi-tiered displays. We sat there all day watching crocheted toilet paper covers selling like hotcakes while our scarves lingered on their dowels. A friend once told me that “crap sells”. Did you know you can still buy these classics at your local craft fair?

I also tried a craft fair with my mother. She convinced me that people would buy my paintings and her silk flower arrangements. She spent weeks hunting down eclectic containers and stuffing them with fake greenery. I hauled a tent, weights, tables, chairs and a car-ful of art and sat on a blacktop with heat radiating through my flip flops. Nothing sold.

Tracy finally found a brilliant solution to our problem – the Pop Up Store. We would sublet retail space for one month around Christmas. We would have parties. We would sell everything in a few weeks and then pack up and leave.

Tracy negotiated a four week deal with a new art coop in our town. The owner, Mark, had painting classes in the back and hung some local art on the walls in the front. We would bring in our wares and man the store for one month. We would give him a percent of our sales. I accompanied Tracy to discuss some of the details with Mark. When I met him, it was clear he had no great interest in this venture. This was his business and he did not want partners. As he really wasn’t using the retail space, and because Tracy wore him down, he agreed to let us try.

We were so excited. We knit like crazy and pulled all the old projects we had out of storage. Of course, we had the felted wreaths that we hung in the shop window.

We borrowed displays and set up the store:

Tracy politely explained that she did not think the name LilyPad Knits made any sense and renamed us Passing Fancy. We put together a Kaper Chart and and we opened for business on a Tuesday.

This “store” was, until a month earlier, a dentist’s office and not really conducive to retail. It had what looked like a bulletproof window in the center surrounding an interior office. It looked a little unfriendly sitting behind the glass, so we sat in front of it (in the “waiting room”). It was a little crowded in the corner of the retail space. If we all came at the same time we filled up the entire store.

Within two hours of my first shift I remembered from my youth that retail is a very lonely, boring business. You sit there most of the time with no customers (especially in this location, we discovered). When the rare customer pops in, you have to walk the fine line between letting them have their space and letting them off the hook. I recalled some advice I received from another artist. He instructed me to greet the customer with an open ended response – “Let me know if I can help.” Don’t ever say, “Can I help you?” Now the difference may seem subtle, but apparently if they decline your help they may never buy anything as they have already decided they don’t need your help. Once you leave them to roam with your friendly, reversible greeting you wait for them to make the next move. If they compliment your work (which they will ultimately feel compelled to do), don’t ever, under any circumstances, say “Thank you”. That let’s them off the hook. They feel like paying you a compliment is just as good as paying you real money. You are supposed to respond, “I’m glad you like it. Let me tell you about it …” I am a terrible salesperson. I merely pretended to straighten up the opposite side of the store while they browsed.

Drop-in traffic was about two people per day. Most (OK, all) of the paying customers were either friends or family who felt obligated to come in and buy something from us. They spent inordinate amounts of time trying to find the lowest priced item in the store. As we had all been to their numerous shop-at-home parties, they at least owed us a small purchase.

I started studying what was selling and why. We had lots of hats, but few sales.

Then Tracey found a pattern for the “Brangelina” – a hat similar to one Angelina Jolie wore somewhere. I’m not sure why it’s called the Brangelina and not just the Angelina. Anyway, we knit a prototype and made a little copy of Angie’s photo wearing the hat.

We sold the hat. We made more hats and sold more hats. This was the key – celebrity knitwear! We envisioned an entire line of celeb hats – the chunky white one from The Way We Were and the red one from Love Story for the baby boomers; Twilight hats for the younger crowd.

Display was also critical. Tracy made these cute gauntlets but no one knew what they were. We cut out a hand and placed them on and – voila! I still don’t think they sold, but they got a lot more attention.

Noelle’s wig form was renamed the “Magic Head”. Everything we put on that head sold.

I reasoned that it was hard to envision knitwear, so perhaps any little display photo would help. I photographed myself wearing a scarf – no good.

When Mary Ellen and I were working, a young mom stopped in and hunted through our knitwear. “You know what you should make?” she said. “Baby legs. They are so expensive.” After a few minutes of discussion we ascertained that these were basically leg warmers for babies.

I ran down to the yarn shop and bought some sock yarn and tiny needles. I whipped up a pair of baby legs and a matching hat. It was adorable and only cost me about $20 and 20 hours of work. She wanted to buy them for $8. I still own them.

I did hit on one item that sold – the needle felted dogs. Be careful what you wish for. Everyone wanted a custom dog. I ended up making these little dogs every waking hour of the day for three weeks.

I also tried other felted holiday items.

One woman loved the dogs, but really wanted a felted squirrel. I made two. She bought one and now I am waiting for another squirrel lover.

I had a crazy idea to make a felted nativity scene. I labored over this thing for hours. I brought it to the shop on the night of our big party. Just as I was setting it out, a woman walked in and wanted to buy it. She could tell I wasn’t ready to part with it. I finally decided that was ridiculous and sold it to her. Then she ordered a custom dog.

We had one big party at Passing Fancy. We invited all of our friends and neighbors over for free food and lots of alcohol to induce shopping. We sold like crazy that night.

Overall, the pop up store was profitable. The problem was that we sold to everyone we knew in that one month. When we tried it again in the spring we added some new merchandise for the grad and dad crowd.

Sales were lower. Tracy tried one more time. Like most housewife endeavors – you can’t rely on your friends to support you forever. While we all keep trying – you just can’t build a local economy of housewives buying stuff from each other.

Retail is a tough business. Profits are low and the work is long and lonely. I think this was the tipping point that convinced several of us to go out and get real jobs.

LilyPad Knits

Posted on June 3, 2012 by housewifery.org

With the company of assorted fellow housewives, I have tried many ways to make money from home. I had an eBay store. I sold used books on half.com. I submitted my short stories for publication. I entered novels into Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel Award competition. I pitched screenplays over Skype to Hollywood producers. My total income over the last twenty years from these ventures is approaching the staggering sum of $3000.

The greatest share of this money was for co-writing a story with John Updike. (No one ever believes me when I say that). I did actually win $1000 in 1997 for writing about 500 words of a story (I will never see that kind of money again). The contest was sponsored by amazon.com and called Murder Makes the Magazine. John Updike wrote the first paragraph and then there was a daily contest to write the next paragraph. There would be 44 winners and Updike would finish the story. I was determined to win this contest. I studied the winning entries every morning to see what they were looking for — over-the-top flowery language and a cliff hanger. I could do that. Every night I entered, lost, studied the winning entry and fine-tuned my next submission. I knew I was getting so close. Finally on or about Day 35 I saw my name as the winning entry.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?ie=UTF8&docId=1000335091

Here are my paragraphs:

I later learned that they received as many as 20,000 entries per day. I am slightly psychic (no one ever believes this either) and I knew that I would write one of the winning paragraphs. This was years before I read The Secret – I guess if I had then I would have understood the power of positive thinking and would have just written myself that check for $1000.

Many years later I met John Updike at a booksigning. The line was long and people were lugging stacks of their Rabbit books for him to sign. I chatted him up for about 4 seconds and mentioned that he went to high school with my father-in-law before the attendant (bodyguard?) moved me along. As I walked away I was kicking myself for forgetting to introduce myself as one of his Murder co-writers. I turned around to go back, but my husband steered me away. “I’m sure he’s tired of people asking them to launch their careers.”

While I have not sold anything recently, I continue to collect royalties from amazon of about 50 cents/day on other stories I wrote. Add that to the corporate pension I receive of $112/month and I can justify eating lunch out about twice a month. I could effectively double that if I merely cleaned my own house (perish the thought ).

So, writing was not generating any income. It was time to try something else. When etsy was developed I thought this was the creative outlet I was waiting for. Every week at our knitting meetings, the knitters would discuss potential jobs and say “I wish someone would just pay me to knit.” Here was that someone. (etsy, for the uninformed, is like an eBay for handmade goods.) We each had a pile of finished projects that none of our family wanted. We could turn that yarn into gold.

I have been surprised to hear that many people think that you can save money by knitting your own clothes. While I suppose that is a logical conclusion, it’s a little like thinking you can save money on groceries by buying a boat and fishing every weekend. It is a hobby, a craft, not a household chore left over from pioneer days. Handknit items are expensive. However, certainly people would pay for our unique output. Who would want a machine-made sweater from Macy’s when you buy a bespoke number from us for triple the price?

Setting up an etsy store appeared quite easy. We just needed a name. I started gathering inventory to see what I could sell as I pondered the store name. Then it came to me in a dream. It was so clear. We were to open a very successful etsy store and it was to be called Lilypad Knits. I woke up with inspiration and ran down to set up the shop before the details of my dream slipped away. Selling the rest of the knitters on the name was tricky. In the light of day it seemed just downright ridiculous. My friends did not believe that I was psychic and that I had foreseen our success with this name. However, as no one else had the energy or desire to set up the store they humored me. Tracey’s dog is named Lilly – so we used her picture in the banner.

We had our recycled sweater felted wreaths:

We had scarves:

I had felted bowls (you knit these and then boil them to turn them into rock hard wool). Notice how artfully I display them in the photo to create ambiance.

I had art:

I had assorted things that we tried to sell at the antique mall

and the felted dogs – which I had finally perfected and in a flash of inspiration threaded a gold cord through their backs and called then Christmas ornaments (if I were really psychic I never would have made these dogs as they would turn out to be very successful. but not that profitable).

In the first (and only) year I sold a total of 3 pieces of part (for about $40 each), two felted bowls and 11 dog ornaments. Absolutely nothing knitted sold.

Curious about our lack of knitted sales, I did a little market research. An etsy search for handmade/knitted/scarves returns 14,827 items. Then there are 27,708 “vintage” scarves. How does one even sort through all of these? I select a random scarf – an ivory long cabled scarf. It is made of wool and has 3 rows of cables. This would take (me) at least 10 hours to make. Misslovestoknit is asking $20. Assuming she got the yarn on sale and knits quickly – this is about $1.50/hour for her labor. I enter her store. She has loads of lovely winter scarves – all $20 each. She has a total of 1 sale and no admirers (I somehow have 8 admirers and I have no inventory?) This seller was not even the cheapest. I found scarves listed for $4. Why?

The dog ornaments sold quickly. However, everyone wanted a custom ornament that looked like their dog. No problem – I just asked them to email me a photo. They were only willing to pay about $25 for these dogs that took me up to five hours to make. They then complained about the spots being in the wrong spot or the hair not being curly enough. My strangest order was for a beagle with a large “organ”. I stopped listing the ornaments when a woman asked for a dachshund and then refused to buy it because it was generic looking and not “special looking” like hers.

Come on – he looks special!

One woman wanted a discount if she bought two golden retrievers. I thought I might change our store logo to Hey this isn’t Oriental Trading Company!

So basically, etsy is a sweatshop for housewives. I really should just stick to shopping there. You never know what you will find. For $4.99 I can buy this cute cat cowl with vintage buttons.

http://www.etsy.com/listing/95955206/cute-cat-cowl

Anyway, we pretty much abandoned etsy. There is still the shell of a store there:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/LilyPadKnits

What we needed, we agreed, was a real store …

International Knitting

Posted on May 21, 2012 by housewifery.org

I always wanted to be one of those people who creates beautiful objets d’art. I have tried painting, quilting, photography, knitting, and most recently collage. I can see the end products so clearly in my mind, but something always goes awry in the execution. It is probably because I do everything the same way — a quick first draft and then edit,edit, edit. That works OK with writing and even oil painting, but not much else. My watercolors are often disastrous. My oils are better, but I know I will never be a great painter. I thought I stood a chance with knitting. All you have to do is follow a pattern. So, I bought a book and taught myself to knit. That first year I went crazy and made sweaters for everyone. This was about 25 years ago. I was young and naive and knew nothing about the world of fiber. I knit most everything out of synthetic yarn.

In my 20′s I stayed up late one Christmas Eve finishing an ambitious cabled number for my dad.

In hindsight, I’m pretty impressed with the fit and I may have actually used cotton here. In my next knitting phase I fixated on cats (this theme was also quite prevalent in my early decorating attempts). This sweater was for my little cousin. She agreed to wear it at least this once.

Kind of cute, for a five year old. You can see the sleeves are a bit baggy. I was encouraged and set out to create my masterpiece – a giant cat faced sweater that I made for myself. I splurged on some tweed (but still synthetic) yarn. I have one major problem with knitting – everything I make comes out too short and too wide. I am what they call a loose knitter. This particular cat sweater turned out so wide that it was a perfect maternity sweater. Years later, my teenaged son discovered it in my closet and thought it was so hilarious he wore it for ugly sweater day. Here he is wearing it as a joke to a recent family party.

After making everyone a Christmas gift, I didn’t pick up a knitting needle for over a decade (I think my brother was relieved that I quit before I got to him). Suddenly, a few years ago, everyone around me spontaneously started knitting. They were mostly making scarves – but the yarns were beautiful. I was inspired and ready to start up again.

Out of the blue we were then transferred to London. Desperate to make friends, I joined an international women’s group and their Stitch and Bitch knitting group. I had skills, I reasoned. They would never suspect I hadn’t knit in ages. I emailed the leader and took a bus to her large home in Maida Vale. The group turned out to be mostly American moms of senior girls at the American High School.

For my first project I brought a solid scarf that I was knitting in what I assumed to be a complex stitch (it was a simple seed stitch, they told me). I quickly realized that I was out of my league. They were all piecing together mohair cardigans or 12 row lace pattern pashminas.

I also soon learned that I had stumbled into an enclave of the super wealthy. A friend told us before we moved that we, the corporate expats, would be the poor people at the American School. I couldn’t believe it, but we were. These knitters were all married to hedge fund types. These were mostly east coast prep school grads. Their husbands were Ivy Leaguers. The host was a lovely woman, named Gillian. Gillian owned an old home in Maida Vale just a few doors down from Jude Law. (Try as I did, I never got a glimpse of Jude. I did see a sports car occasionally parked behind the iron gate.)

Gillian was always very nice to me. The other ladies said hello but no one had much interest in me. I must have been giving off middle class vibes or something. I tried to toss in a few relevant tidbits into their conversation, but eventually just stuck to listening. My knitting was subpar and I was never accepted as an equal in this group, but I could not tear myself away from their conversations. These conversations were limited to three topics – college selection, school fundraising and travel.

College selection conversations usually took up an hour of every meeting. As I only had a freshman, I was interested but not obsessed. Laura was a blonde woman from the Boston area. Her husband did something in banking (of course). She went to Harvard, a fact she managed to squeeze into every conversation. Currently she was busy traveling the world and getting her academically mediocre son into a top college. They were exploring these small east coast liberal arts schools that I never heard of. Tragically, she was not able to get him into an Ivy or little Ivy in spite of his promise in crew. As we Midwesterners tend to go Big 10, I foolishly asked why they never looked at state schools.

“Our kids don’t go to public school.”

I didn’t know quite how to react to that. Laura and I actually both had engineering degrees. Laura saw the look of horror on my face at her public school comment and was compelled to explain that, as they were expats, they did not qualify for in-state tuition, so really what was the point of a state school?

As the American School had roughly one counselor per two students, these kids all got into amazing east coast schools that midwestern kids can only dream of.

Another endless topic was fundraising for the High School. As we all paid a fortune for tuition I could not quite understand why they needed more money, but I had learned not to ask stupid questions. There was an annual auction to raise funds. This year the elementary school kids made a quilt and one of the parents bought it, for $50,000.

“$50,000?” I choked on my Earl Grey.

Laura looked at me in disgust. “It was exquisite.“

I’m sure it was. I learned it was bought by a parent who also made annual donations in excess of $1 million.

The third topic of conversation was travel. These women had seen it all. Western Europe had been exhausted ages ago. Eastern Europe was old news. They had moved on to Africa, India and the Middle East. They flew to Dubai to buy jewelry. They did the type of safaris you imagine Prince William and Kate doing. Most of them had been expats for over a decade and had no intention of going back to America. They were so frustrated by their stateside relatives. They hated even going home for the holidays. These relatives just didn’t want to hear any more about all the good lives they were leading, and (as I knew) it was very hard for them to find anything else to talk about. As I was still excited by taking the train to Paris, I didn’t not share my adventures with them.

I moved back to the States after a year and found a lovely new knitting group – one with people who had normal incomes and kids who went to public school. One thing hasn’t changed — I am still the worst knitter in the group. Here is what the rest of the group produced:

Here is an ensemble I created for me and my dog. I don’t think Chelsea loves hers.

I am actually happy with these. Most of my items, however, look more Ray Rayner than Martha Stewart. I once splurged on about 30 skeins of blue yarn with the intention of making an afghan (why are they called that?). I hated the afghan and ripped it out. I have tried to rework the yarn into many things. I finally decided to make a simple shawl with the last bits. Sadly, I ran out of the blue yarn before I hit the ruffle. I decided to just tack on some black. Bad idea:

I don’t have the energy to rip this out again. This yarn is cursed. On to my next project – a striped sweater. Perhaps in the next year or two I will actually finish and post the results.

Housewifery

A shared journey through the perils of housewifery

Category Archives: Knitting