Sometimes the members of the Crazy Cosy Crochet Club liked to appear out in public in their club uniforms.
Sue had spent so much money on her riding lessons that she felt she couldn't afford to buy riding jodhpurs and a riding jacket, so she made them out of the orange shag carpet she'd secretly salvaged in the dead of the night from a house on her street that had been condemned. She was so proud of the outfit she thought she'd also have a go at making her husband's hockey equipment using the old gas pipes and lathe and other things she'd ripped out of that house.
Since discovering she was one-thirty-second Cree, Paula had been one to celebrate her Native American heritage at every available opportunity. Her latest creation was a cloak that doubled as a wigwam that she could sleep in at night.
Blair had grown up watching her mother tuck tissues up the sleeves of her sweaters, and decided to play with that concept. Fashion, after all, was all about ramping up basic notions until they made a bold statement.
Willa also believed in the go bold or go home theory of design, and she decided to play with the concept of cowls. If one was good, eight or nine would be even better right? But she'd make them into skinny cowls to keep the look subtle, and pair them with trousers made out of ruched garbage bags so she didn't look like the kind of designer who relied on a single gimmick.
Karen's latest creation was intended as a costume piece for the host of a new crochet reality show tentatively titled Bobbles Gone Wild.
Chet had had the kind of mother who sent him off to school every morning with the words, "You're better than all those little losers in your class. Go get 'em, tiger!" Now, as a designer, he'd created an outfit that manifested the kind of confidence that had always given him.
Chet had also created an outfit for his fall collection that he considered the perfect around the house outfit for his mother: the sweater was in his mother's favourite hot pink, had one extra long sleeve for dusting and a hat that could double as a floor mop, featured an eye that looked like that of his old one-eyed teddy bear his mother had always said watched him for her whenever she wasn't around, and had camouflage pants in tribute of the day he'd told his mom he wanted to join the army and she'd said he wouldn't last a day of basic training before crying to come back home to her.
Stephen and Sara held each other close for the little time that was theirs, hoping for a day when others would understand their rash-inducing full bodysuit love.
Knit something great, and the world knits with you. Knit something terrifyingly strange, and the world backs away, slowly, and leaves you knitting alone.