Three years ago I didn’t have a clue that knitting needles came in different sizes. And materials! And shapes! The knitting world remained a mystery I wasn’t even curious to begin unraveling. Pun intended.
My first week of college, I remember eating sushi and yogurt on the steps of the Met, comparing my favorite brands of jeans with my earliest New York friends—a scene out of Gossip Girl that we so easily made reality. I had no idea where my True Religion Boot Cut dark wash jeans had come from, nor did I even care to question it. Clothes came off a rack and that was that.
While I quickly busied myself by attending galleries, joining various community service clubs, and attempting to learn sign language (thank Marlee Matlin on The L Word for this one), my new best friend Deborah occupied a chunk of her time with needles and yarn. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, Deborah knit mostly in her room, hiding her presumed “dorky” hobby from the masses. It wasn’t until Deborah finished an elaborate lace blanket and was forced to lie it out in her common area to dry that I realized the true art of knitting. I admired and admired it, amazed that a person could make something so complex with only her hands! I began asking her questions about knitting, curious about the craft and amazed at her talents.
And one day, perhaps in an attempt to procrastinate from starting homework, I decided to ask Deborah to teach me to knit. She agreed! Before I could second-guess my latest ambition, I was stocking up on yarn and needles at our local craft store and learning rhymes to help me remember my knit stitches.
I found knitting incredibly satisfying, unlike studying, which required hours of labor for uncertain results, each row I knit signified an accomplishment, I was making something beautiful, creating something out of nothing, putting my efforts into something constructive! I could spend my time in front of the TV actually being productive, have conversations on the subway while whipping up a new hat for myself, or make unique gifts for those I loved that actually felt better to give than anything I could have bought at the store.
I joined Ravelry, AKA the Facebook of the knitting community, where I met more knitters like myself, learned more techniques, and was inspired by patterns for lifelike turkey hats and glamorous ball gowns completely made by hand. This whole world I never knew existed was suddenly wide open for me to explore. It was like discovering Platform 9 ¾ for the first time!
And while the craft was certainly satisfying, I found the community the most exciting part about being a knitter.
Knitters love knitters. Knitters love knitting. Knitters love knitting with knitters, talking about knitting with knitters, knitting for knitters, meeting new knitters etc etc. Knitters love sheep and fiber and lamb burgers and everything in between. Knitters are those quirky, eccentric people you honestly can’t resist.
And naturally, once you know about the clique, you want in. Both my New York friends and my Chicago friends wanted knitting lessons. They too wanted to be able to create gorgeous knitwear and impress their friends! Those friends taught other friends and I found myself sharing patterns with people I’d assume would more likely play tackle football than knit a scarf.
Knitting was one of the few aspects of my life that was completely non-competitive- everyone is so supportive and encouraging and always willing to offer advice and help on any challenges that may arise. I’ve found myself at home among strangers in various NYC knitting shops, bonded together through our stitches, promising to friend each other on Ravelry after we’ve shared a few minutes browsing yarn together or after hours of chatting and crafting..
While I’ve attempted to write this post numerous times throughout the past few years, it never seemed appropriate until I finished my very first project, which I cast on (knitting jargon for “began”) in Spring 2010. Though I’d never knit more than a few stitches, I ambitiously decided to make a blanket similar to the ones that had decorated my couches at home growing up. My mother had crocheted them throughout college and I aspired to do the same. How cool would it be to have something I made myself?
The blanket was frustrating. A huge project for a beginner. “Why don’t you start with a hat?” my friends suggested. “Then you can finish something and be proud, this will take you forever.”
Perhaps the longest I’ve ever worked on anything (this blog not included), I impressed myself and denied the doubters any pride, creating a warm, comfy, and of course beautiful blanket that brings a smile to my face every time I use the very item I made!
And of course, while creating my blanket, I took weeks or months off to create a slew of other fantastic projects—scarves, hats, ties, cowls, mittens, bags—and I’m still going!
Now that I’ve done the impossible, the knitting world is my oyster—anything is possible! I’ve ditched Frat Party Thursdays for Knit Night in a coffee shop, some of my clothing budget is now redirected towards alpaca and wool, and I’m constantly collecting new patterns to create more and more of my own unique wardrobe. I have two pieces on knitting pending review at The New Yorker (keep your fingers crossed!) In short, I cannot imagine the past few years of my life without knitting. It’s become so ingrained in me, something that makes me happy everyday, and something I look forward to make others happy with as well!
|My illustrious blanket!|