Welcome to my little blogging space!
I love birds, rain clouds, flowers, baroque music, and eating dinner by candlelight.
I casually but enthusiastically study textile and fashion history. I find it endlessly fascinating how hand knitting has appeared upon the fashion stage to woo and wow western civilization with its beauty. Be it silk stockings that won over Queen Elizabeth of England, or the fair isle jumpers that cheered up a war tattered generation following WWII, or the Bohus yoked sweaters that were sold as premier luxury sweaters in department stores, created on a small island during a hard time by intensely creative and innovative knitters.
Even though innovations in hand knitting occur often out of deeply familial reasons, they eventually cross over into the mainstream public aesthetic. To look beautiful and timeless is to wear a fisherman sweater, a fair isle jumper, a Norwegian ski sweater, or an Icelandic plotolupi sweater. All were designed by ordinary people wanting to cloth their family members with practical quality and beauty.
This unique thread of history has been recorded and expressed in the vast collections of garments and written patterns. The best knitting techniques like cables, lace, and fair isle are there for anyone to learn. Knitting is never boring.
One of my favorite things about being a knitter is the diversity of fibers that are available. Silk and its strength, drape and shimmer, Icelandic wool and it’s vigor and waterproof and wind-resilient nature, merino wool and the blank canvas it offers for creative dying methods, provides yet another fascinating dimension to knitting. Yarns are one of a kind fibers that reflect the vast diversity of one of a kind animals & plants from around the world.
I love the slow process of knitting and the soothing and creative satisfying stages of bringing garments to life. I love making special things for my family to wear and enjoy. Many men and women before me have shown that love and knitting go hand in hand just as much as the yarn and needles. While I sit and perch and knit in my fourth floor urban apartment, read patterns off of an electric device, or open a mail package with yarn from across the ocean, my life looks very modern, I don’t feel too far away from the people that have gone before me.