this ad was in my free weekly paper. for those of you who are not familiar with south philly, or with philly at all, believe me, this is funny. check out thursday and friday nights.
that's a big step for south philly. the knitting thing has reached saturation for sure when it's being advertised as a happening in a bar on east passyunk ave. i like the dyke night thing too -- not that south philly has been without them ever, but it's new to see it flaunted in the paper. and i promise you, they are not pottery barn lesbians. not in this neck of the woods.
i got some thoughtful and inspiring replies to that last post. that's nice; i always prepare myself against an onslaught of dippyness and zealotry, bracing for a bunch of comments like "is it really fair to say this?" or "isn't this all more of a personal opinion?" i know these people are out there, racing to get to the button, people for whom the pedantic and "fair" expression of anemic, passionless, objectivity is a real virtue. and for any writing that fails to do it -- even blog writing -- they are there with the red pencil. it's the equivalent of shrieking "mom says you HAVE to let me play with you!" and it's boring, but again, i'm not seeing any of it in my inbox.
if you read the previous post -- and not even between-the-lines reading, just read it -- it addresses that i am intentionally travelling a narrow path with this line of thinking. it also expresses acknowledgement of the knitting "revolution" not only in that it exists, but that it brings pleasure to those experiencing it. that type of pleasure -- the newness, the giddiness -- is the stuff of life, the fountain of youth. the price at which it sometimes comes is, well, seeming green. being late to the party. i know this from blackwork -- not that anyone has outright scoffed at my wiggly sampler (in fact, embroidery bloggers are a far nicer bunch of people than knitting bloggers are), but i myself often check myself from "asking something dumb" or getting overly excited about my sapling abilities. then again, i am having a fantastic time. soon, i will want to move on to harder things.
i have heard it said from more than one knitter that the problem they have with the "hip to knit" revolution is that many of these new knitters seem to have no desire to move onto harder things. it will continue to be big fat needles, and novelty yarns, and "patterns" for scarves and wrist warmers (what is a wrist warmer? like tennis players wore in the seventies?) and beer cozies, for their entire body of work.
the only new knitters i know are starved to move on, and have moved on, faster than i can even keep up with. knitting itself is keeping their wrists warm.
not wanting to learn is not a very cool thing. and in every revolution, i suppose, there is an element that pushes forward into the new territory, and also an element that attempts to hold it there as long as possible.
one difference, it appears, between the perception of "revolution" and "counterrevolution" is in -- surprise! -- a certain individuality. remember what my non-knitting pal said in the last post: "If I was going to buy that many clothes, at that price, I'd hire knitters and sewers and designers to make everything specifically for and fitted to me."
true dat! and, if she were a knitter, she'd knit for -- and thereby be addressing and catering to -- a very exclusive clientele. i have no doubt of it. that would be fabulousness at work.
another, more experienced knitter, in e-mail, fantasized that the counterrevolution would be marked by the fact that"knitters would no more consider having a knit-a-something-along than stylin' ladies would want to wear the same dress as someone else to a party." she did amend, though, that it was not the construct of the knitalong itself, but the reliance on it, that was at fault; and also, that whether knitalong or knit alone, there should always be room and respect for the garter stitch scarf of the brand new knitter. to frighten fledglings away from a new discipline out of scorn for their newness -- or out of fear of the directions in which they take this discipline -- is pussy.
back to the one-of-a-kind issue. the revolution appears to be marked by a lack of possessiveness. knitters come up with "original" stuff -- and "publish" it as a "pattern" just as fast as the garment has come into existence. is it more important to be the “designer” who wrote and “published” the “pattern” (which will then be used countless times by others) than it is to be the only person who made – and owns – and wears -- an guardedly original and unduplicatable piece?
counterrevolutionary would be, then, blogs full of original items made to showcase the endowments of their makers and their makers alone (or the endowments of the makers' carefully chosen select clientele.) that would be something to see, wouldn't it? something a little more than looking at the progress of whatever cloned cardigan is being created by the twenty other knitalongers with which the soldier of the revolution allies herself (or himself). to be "fair", i have to guess that the reason these knitalongs are happening is because so many people want to knit this same item, and believe it will be complimentary to them when worn. to be fair, i will suggest that it is so. and to be totally unfair, i will say that i suspect that it is not. why then does all this petri-dish knitting produce a bunch of knitted items that, if they had voices, would all talk like meg ryan? sometimes, when i see a list of knitalongers and their little report cards of progress on their identical thingies, i get a mental picture of twenty women in big cardboard meg ryan masks.
so. to be different. different different different. groan. you're just doing that to be different, whine the stormtroopers. okay. don't do anything just to be different. not everybody wants to wave their freak flag. not everybody has a freak flag to wave. that's okay. faking it is not necessary. but there's no harm in being exposed to a new opinion. i mean; i've looked at all those knitalong "buttons" for long enough, and now, this is mine.
how about a knitalong where:
-- everybody who joins knits an item that can in no way be mistaken for any other item in the knitalong
-- everybody knits an item that at least deviates in some significant way from the pattern being used, or is an entirely original pattern
-- contains an element of interest, whether in a stitch, a certain shaping, or otherwise, that the knitter is loathe to share -- out of monumental, possessive and consuming love for what he/she has created
-- everybody either completely fails to address that the item is "part" of a "knitalong", or makes their own button for it (which they may share if that's how they're feeling, or if they're really clever with buttons, but frankly it's more fun to think of multiple different kinds of buttons and some "participants" with no button at all nor even a hint that they are "participating").
what do you think? do you think some of the knitting will be interesting? do you think it will be "edgy"? i'm getting worried about that word now. we've all seen the little-knitted-penises and big-knitted-spliff and cross-stitch-sampler-with-naughty-words and porno-latch-hook and ha ha ha, how very edgy, how not-your-grandmother's, and i wonder if this "edginess" goes beyond the sight gag. isn't there more?
beyond the finished product, is there counterrevolutionary knitting behavior? i do not know for sure. i knit last night while seeing the magnificent le cabaret mélange perform a tribute to kurt weill. no one else was knitting, and in the darkened room, i tried to amplify the light of my votive candle by putting a full waterglass in front of it. revolutionary or counterrevolutionary, or neither? it should be revealed that i asked jeffrey, having run into him in whole foods, if he wouldn't mind me knitting at his shows, and he said he wouldn't. (i had the honor of working alongside jeffrey at the worst job in the world, so how could he let a fellow survivor down?) maybe that takes away from the revolutionary or counterrevolutionary element of it, asking permission. i read once that hometown boy todd rundgren (a wizard, a true star) used to knit in the back of the classroom in high school here in philly. counterrevolutionary knitting. definitely.
but then again, some people were just born to be excellent stormtroopers. i mean, follow your dreams. this way, we're all winning.