The Knitting Fiend

Having read numerous posts on knitting lists and blogs, I have learned the true purpose of Knitting Festivals like Stitches:

To show others knitters inspirational knitwear to photograph, discuss and admire.

Knowing this, here’s what I plan to wear when Stitches Midwest returns to the Chicago Area next August:

Just imagine how I’d be trailed by admiring photographers enraptured by the craftsmanship. In my dreams, I would eagerly listen to their remarks, which would sound like this:

Admiring follower: “How remarkable. Are those dancing ladies intarsia, or fair-isle?”

Flattered by the query, I would answer “How charming of you to ask. I’m glad you like them. The ladies are fair-isle knit from imported Lopi yarn purchased from the immortal Elizabeth Zimmerman.”

Surely, I would detect no raised eyebrows as another of my followers asked, “Is that a blue ribbon attached to that doll’s poncho?”

Graciously laughing, I would respond: “I’m so happy you noticed. Of course, I’m a craftswoman, and I won it at the Iowa State Fair.”

Chuckling, the next follower would ask, “OMG! Is that supposed to be a spider’s web?”

Knowing they were laughing with me and not at me, I would respond, “Oh, dear child. How sharp your eyes are! I attached it using knitting needles. Isn’t that knitterly of me? “

I would continue walking, accumulating more and more followers. Naturally, I would overhear hushed whispers from those hovering near the back of the crowd.

“Have you ever noticed how the knit bloggers like to gush about their own projects? Don’t you really, really want to read more about whatever that thing draped over her arm turns into?”

Though that murmur was not intended for me, I would catch the speaker’s tone perfectly. I would wave, smile and cooh in answer, “Oh. You flatter me. It’s so exciting to hear how you all lap up the endearing stories I post! ”

Yes, it would be fun to use each item of my outfit to inspire the timid beginning knitters.

But you know. I am optimistic. I often think too highly of the kindness of fellow knitters.

When I think more realistically, I remember it is the fate of the talented to be heckled by the envious. Inevitably, somewhere in the back of the crowd one such might emit this snide whisper,

“Hmm… You know…. I don’t like to be negative… but if I were wearing that outfit, I’d wrap a scarf around my face too!”

Sharp eared, I would hear this. I would halt, lay my eyes on the fun fur scarf neck decoration that is the mark of the knitdweeb and cry out defiantly,

“What?! . . . At least my scarf is knit from genuine imported Shetland yarn!”

Unfortunately, the magic word “Shetland” might not be enough to quell the rude interloper. They might retort,

“Ha! Look! That second sock isn’t even finished! I can’t believe your blog lectured us on the beauty of a well turned heel?”

Disturbed, but ever valiant, my acid voice would cut the dweeb with, “What do you care? Both heels are finished, and, let me I assure you, quite well turned!”

That same snide voice might attempt a third volley, “And what’s with the lace? Don’t you think a 46 year old woman ought to wear a slip with a lace skirt?”

Angered I turn, and waving my double pointed needles, I would strike back,

“You beginner; I’ve been knitting since before you were born. Don’t you take that snide tone with me!”

I would then carefully lower my voice, stare her down and inform her,

“I’m wearing this Lopi yoke sweater, a scarf, mittens, wool socks, a jester hat and slippers to educate you. It’s August; I’m hot. The lace is for ventillation! ”

Then, composing myself, I would turn and, dignity intact, walk away.

Surely, my sharp ears would not hear this: