Knitting Pattern Narratives

Are you familiar with that old English teacher trick of giving their students an intriguing picture to look at, and telling them to write a story based on the picture? I've taken many an English class, and sometimes when I look at pictures of knitted creations, they speak to me and insist on telling me their stories, even when I don't want to hear them. I thought I'd share a collection of such images and their back stories here. A number of these have previously appeared on the Facebook page for this site, but there are some new ones.





"Oh, you mean my new bikini dress? Yes, it knitted up in no time, and then because it needed a little something I added some flowers that I crafted out of white and green garbage bags. Kicky, isn't it? And so versatile. It's just the best thing ever to wear at the beach all day and for the party circuit all night, and it'll see me right through my pregnancy."





"You know when I told you the best thing for us to do to prepare for the apocalypse was to take our stashes and retreat to a remote mountain top? Was I right or was I right?"

"You were right, I must admit. Do you think we should head back now to help rebuild civilization?"

"Let's wait until the dust settles."

"Or at least until we run out of yarn."





Chloe was uncertain if her new dress was a statement on depression, urban decay, or the declining quality of mass-produced clothing, but in any case she was proud of its utilitarian qualities. Not many dresses can make a profound statement about modern life and double as a sleeping bag for sub-zero temperatures.





When his girlfriend Tara presented him with his "new spring coat" that morning, Andreas knew the only thing to do was run far, far, away. To his horror, Tara pursued him. When he got up the courage to look back, he found she was gaining on him, and, worse, that she seemed to be shrieking something about "the matching toeless socks".





Gaia felt the only true form of art and design were those without boundaries or bourgeois rules, and she'd lived by those principles her entire life, throwing a screaming tantrum at six when her mother suggested she colour inside the lines, and threatening to impale herself with her knitting needles at twelve when her home ec teacher commented that she really ought to use a stitch gauge. There weren't many people in the world with such unimpeachable artistic integrity in the world, and Gaia was proud to be one.





Nothing was going to stop Dawn Marie from achieving her dream of going for the gold as an Olympic swimmer, and she would do absolutely anything that might better her time. She was even willing to wear the swimsuit her coach's second cousin, a scientist and crocheter, swore would give her the highest possible level of hydrodynamic advantage. But to be on the safe side, Dawn Marie did resolve to have his science credentials and mental health history discreetly investigated before the qualifying meet.





After Holden put on his birthday present from his girlfriend, he stared into space and wondered if being alone, unloved, and celibate would be such a bad thing after all.





"Hello, I am Zorba. I vill put on zis sexy man from Kazakhstan ivory aran jacket and scarf, and I vill butcher zis chicken and you vill cook it for a romantic dinner for just us two at my home, because Zorba does not cook. And zen after you have done the dishes, because Zorba does not do dishes, zen you vill let me make sweet, vild love to you, yes?"





Amber loved her newly finished crocheted bathing suit so much, she thought she'd make a speedo out of the remaining yarn for her husband. Or maybe, she mused, he'd like a thong better. But the important thing was that the suits matched. Just like their marriage counsellor had said, the two of them needed to develop some shared interests and commonalities in order to save their marriage.





Cosette couldn't understand it. She'd finally overcome the grief of her husband's death to the extent that she could appear at her former mother-in-law's cocktail party in a dress that she considered the perfect sartorial compromise between mourning and moving on, and the next morning the headlines of the newspaper on her doorstep read, "BLACK WIDOW SPIDER DEATH INQUEST TO BEGIN TODAY".





"Oh yes, I made this all by myself! I glue gunned some pieces of fishnet and a couple dozen of the fringed garters I had left over from my days as a chorus girl to this old blanket. Hey, don't hate me because I'm talented. I'll be happy to make you one. For a price."





Cassandra was finding it a challenge to play Shia, a non-verbal character who'd been raised by sheep, spending an entire three-month shoot frolicking about in sheep doo-doo hadn't been fun, and the love scenes had been just plain disgusting, but as her agent kept telling her, her role in Dances With Sheep could be a career-maker.





We the Crochet Posse, yo.
We ain't down with the knitting, no.
Needles and garter stitch, they all just wack.
Hooks and doilies, they where it's at.