having a great life in spite of everything

Seeing as how my blog isn’t particularly large or well-traveled, I’ll assume you are a savvy enough online knitter that you are already familiar with the Ravelry vs. the U.S. Olympic Committee kerfuffle. (Oh, fine, here’s a link.) My first reaction to this story as it broke was, phhbbt, so what. After all, a lot of the patterns being called out were clear copyright violations, and I do get tired of people getting all bitchy when they get called on illegal infringement. And so tone of the letter was insulting, again, so what. I’m used to people not having a freaking clue about knitting. Most people, frankly, aren’t smart enough for it, because it does require the ability to follow instructions at the least, and use math at its highest levels.

I also don’t give a crap about the Olympics in general. I’ve long stopped buying that fake hoopla about the world coming together or any kind of international spirit, blah blah blah. It’s another money-making sports venture. Which is fine with me, I happen to love football. But my point here is, I don’t value the U.S. Olympic Committee’s opinion enough that I would feel insulted by anything they say.

After being unable to avoid it online today, I went back over the original letter again. This is the part that’s really upsetting people:

Well, first, I think it’s arguable that they represent the entirety of our finest athletes, but let’s put that aside for now. It’s the “fails to recognize or appreciate their hard work” part that I’m going to single out. Aw, well wouldn’t that just be a damn shame for someone’s hard work to go unrecognized or unappreciated? I mean, these people spend a lifetime of isolating themselves into a laser focus on one sport so they can be the best at it! They give up everything else including family, friends, normal lives, and in the case of gymnasts, average growth and menstrual cycles! Why aren’t we all just falling at their feet and groveling forgiveness for daring to have some knit-alongs in conjunction their mighty contests?

Color me unimpressed. You want unrecognized and unappreciated? Go find a construction worker. Those guys put themselves at physical risk regularly, they often don’t get paid well, they certainly don’t get respect, and all so you can have a place to live, an office to work in, and a road to drive on. How about garbage collectors? Don’t you enjoy not having to burn your own trash or take it to the dump yourself? I know I do.

And here’s the best part; by the work they do, they are making a real contribution to society. The same claim just can’t be logically made for athletes, at best they provide entertainment. Which, I admit, is awesome. But let’s stop pretending that it’s deeply meaningful and important beyond what the rest of us may do with our lives. And don’t hand me that bullshit about sports teaching morals or teamwork. Those values are taught by people, not activities. They can be learned from any number of non-physical activities as well, and I’ve seen jerk coaches and parents stomp all over those values and ruin the chance for kids to take anything positive away from the event. Sports are only as good as the people in them, just like every other endeavor in life. The Olympics, unfortunately, are absolutely the worst about this whole cult-like atmosphere and sports worship mentality.

I might watch some of the Olympics this year, I sometimes do. It depends on how long I can tolerate the announcers gushing about how wonderful it all is, trying their best to convince us that we should be oh so very impressed and grateful at these god-like beings deigning to allow us into their sheltered little world. It’s the next best thing to the whole world joining hands and singing Kumbaya.

Actually, football won’t be far behind, I might just wait for that instead.

Ah, fall is here (autumn to those of you in the UK). The weather turns cool, the leaves change colors and drop from the trees, and squirrels busy themselves stocking up their winter stores of acorns. As the the temperatures drop and the winter clothes are brought from storage, thoughts of knitting surge within us. Inevitably, some poor soul is suckered in by the allure of it—hey, I know! I could learn to knit! Then I could make my own sweaters, and scarves, and, ooo, Christmas presents! Joy!

So suddenly my email is inundated with requests, questions, and frantic pleas for help, largely from new knitters. Now don’t get me wrong, I want people to ask me for help. Especially if you paid for a pattern (please, god, ask me for help then). I have an Excellent rating from my students at the community college where I teach digital publishing and interactive media, so I like to imagine that I’m a pretty good instructor (I am so, shut up). So now I’m going to tell you the biggest, most important point in learning something new: Don’t. Panic.

It’s okay to struggle. Stop beating yourself up and thinking you’re stupid. We all feel stupid when learning something new. I think this is the single worst thing we do to ourselves when learning—or even worse, we avoid learning new skills at all to head off the Stupid Curve. Just stop it.

Here’s a story to make you feel better. Until a couple weeks ago, I had a “feature” phone (it’s a dumb phone, but it had the coolest keyboard ever, fabulous for texting). Finally did a major upgrade to the new iPhone. I already have an iPad, so the guy at the store says, oh you already know the system, I don’t need to teach you anything! And I happily went on to class and proceeded to show off my new phone to my students. And then, it rang.

Turns out I forgot a crucial point—an iPad is not a phone. Sure, I knew the iOS system, but I didn’t have a clue how to use the phone features. It took me a minute to figure out how to answer the damn thing. So, there I am, in a classroom where I teach technology, asking my students how to use a freaking phone. And let me assure you, they thought it damn funny. But I didn’t panic, or try to hide my idiocy. I unfurled the stupid for all to see and asked them questions, and they reveled in the chance to tell me what to do. And I listened, and didn’t worry about how stupid I looked.

I made a point of studying up on the iPhone system, and by the next class I was showing some of them the triple-finger tap, a hidden iPhone feature for zooming. But that wouldn’t have happened if I was so worried about looking stupid that I tried to hide or avoid it. In fact I wouldn’t be able to teach at all if I didn’t constantly push myself to learn new apps, features, and techniques. I feel stupid a lot, but I think it’s actually good for you.

So, back to you (though I do love talking about me). If you don’t know, ask. And stop feeling bad for asking, or not knowing already. Try to calm your panic when something doesn’t appear to be working. You might be making a mistake, or maybe it’s supposed to be that way and you just need to keep going. Maybe there’s a mistake in the pattern (but don’t jump to that conclusion, it smacks of “I’m new at this, but I think I might know more about it than you do!”). The panic is an indicator that you’re being too hard on yourself. It’s okay to struggle a little. If this was truly easy, everyone would do it and no one would ever be impressed at your work.

Oh, and don’t try to knit Christmas presents. I’ll tell you another story about that some time.

I will be attending Vogue Knitting Live in Los Angeles in September. I’m lucky enough to have a couple of knitter sisters who talked me into it (I know, poor me). But the part that makes me uber lucky is that I get to go to Franklin Habit’s lecture and lace class. That’s right, the Franklin Habit.

If you aren’t familiar, go read this post from his blog. If you don’t love him at least a little after reading that, then I just don’t want to know you.

One of the things I love about his work is his interest in vintage patterns. Here’s an overview of some of his designs on Ravelry.This image cracks me up:

And if the designs aren’t enough for you (well la dee da, don’t you have the high standards), he’s also an illustrator and photographer. There’s just nothing to not love about the guy.

You’ve probably already seen the hideousness that was Cate Blanchett’s granny square dress on the red carpet:

Yeah yeah, it was supposed to be humorous or something. Personally I think it’s only entertaining in a mean holy-shit-that’s-so-awful kind of way. And generally this is what happens when someone tries to turn granny squares into clothing.

Now check this out, from Christopher Kane’s at London Fashion Week:

This just proves a friend of mine’s point that color makes the difference in how good granny squares look. I still don’t love in a I-must-make-this way, but I can appreciate the geometrics and color here.

Of course, the biggest problem with granny squares as clothing is the complete lack of drape that they’re going to have. These dresses are only going to look good on a runway, or on someone who’s so damn hot they could grab a blanket off the couch and wear that. Which is kind of what they did there.

I shouldn’t get uppity about knitting, god knows I’ve crafted plenty of ugly before, and certainly will again. But granny squares are not hip, or cool, or remotely attractive. What they are is easy, and a convenient way to use up scrap yarn, which is the only reason anyone does them. Even our grandmothers knew this and probably many of them resent the hell out of sharing a nickname with granny squares.

So this:

is not a good thing. It’s really hilariously awful.

But wait, there’s more. This pic is for a pattern—a pattern for sale. That’s right, they’re selling this pattern for $5 AUD.

Okay okay, I suppose I can get the appeal, you could use up a bunch of scrap yarn and knock together an essentially free sweater in the time you spend watching TV, and it could be a nice cozy house sweater. But aside from the taste/aesthetic issues, it’s freaking granny squares. Who needs a pattern? And who would expect anyone to pay for that pattern?

The worst part is, they’re probably making a fortune from it.