The Knitting Fiend

A reader wrote me privately. She thanked me me for posting the marvels of the 80’s and expressed disappointment she was not yet born during that decade of knitting nirvana.

Then, I’m sure her eyes widened as, timorously, she typed:

“Did even one published pattern fall short of perfection?”¹

It appears my interlocutor suspected the ’80s was not an era of unstained knitting purity. During her wanderings through knitting blogs she had read rumors of “gawd-awful” knit bikinis and crocheted dresses; these seemed to be associated with something called “Mon Tricot”.

The innocent knitter had not seen photos of these “gawd-awful” items. Having read and seen the wonders of the ’80s at my blog, she was puzzled.

When I read her question, I shook my head, sighed and answered, “My young Padawan, . . . like “The Force”, 80’s knitting had a dark side. Even in that past perfect progressive period, some patterns were putrid. ”

I paused. Then I continued,

“This was the fault of . . .

The French.”

Yes. During the ’80s, French, and even French Canadian, periodicals infiltrated our true blue American magazine stands.

The worst of these periodicals was “Mon Tricot.”

I will elaborate. But first, let me warn you:

To learn the true horrors of the dark side, you must view photos of a knit bikini and a crocheted dress from a summer issue of the ever wretched “Mon Tricot”.

If your stomach is strong, sit down; try not to faint. If your stomach is weak, I beg you, do not glance below the hard rule; close your browser window NOW.
 
 
 

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You’re looking!

Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
 
 
 

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Lucky for us, vigilant American editors recognized no American should be subjected to these things.

In their wisdom, they understood that anyone who knit that bikini would be marred for life. As any knitter grew in wisdom, skill and proficiency, the knitter would would look back and say, “Can you imagine, I spent $5 on cotton, and 20 minutes of my life creating that! And now, it’s so dated!”

(You know. That’s sort of the way I feel about my tatoo. . . Oh, forget about the tatoo. Concentrate on the bikini! )

Yes, our American editors foresaw the humiliation a grandmother would feel when, sometime in the remote future, her 21st century college age granddaughter, (whose figure would bear an unfortunate resemblance to that of Eva Longoria,) might peruse her handy work and say,

“Woah, grandma! You wore that? Can I borrow it?”

(Luckily, I have no children; this wretched fate cannot befall me. )

I think we can all agree good fortune enriched the lives of the current generation of American grandmothers. Like Obi Wan fending off Darth, ’80s knitting editors stood vigilant and fought off the evil threat of French bikinis and crocheted dresses!

Under the valiant editors protection, American intarsia designs thrived, generating unending interest among a generation of young knitters; knitting gained the mature, stolid reputation it enjoyed all through the ’90s.

Unfortunately, the 90’s came to an untimely end. . .

Uppity young Americans,² Palpatine like, began to promote pointless projects tempting youngsters to indulge in perverse pleasures.

To thwart that woman and her ilk, older knitters like myself, drape ourselves in Jedi Warrior garb and take younger knitters under our wings. We promise to teach that neither figure baring bikinis nor figure skimming dresses like those found in French publications are to be indulged.

Ever.

Because, should patterns for bikinis and shapely dresses be presented to young American knitters, we risk the resurgence of past blights.

Like crocheted shawls.

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Footnotes:
1. I made this quote up. I often receive private email, but none quite like this.

2. Of course, I am referring to Debbie Stoller. That wench! Can you imagine, she never even emailed me to warn me she would be printing the address of my dog sweater generator in her book? I’ll get her! I may need to rewrite that in javascript, and word the directions specifically for hand knitting.