Bringing Back the Parasol

Summer is on its way, and with it, the inevitable heat and glaring sunlight. I can't begin to tell you how I dread it. I'm a cold weather person. I sunburn with heart-rending ease and my temperament, which is irritable at the best of times, can only be described as borderline postal during heatwaves.

Every summer I vow to singlehandedly bring back the parasol in order to provide myself with some relief from the sun, but every summer I fail to find one that looks anything that I could even pretend to be trendsetting. The only parasols available seem to be the white, frou-frou, lacy kind that are meant to be carried as a bridal accessory, or the paper and bamboo kind you find in Chinatown, and I'm neither a bride nor Asian. The lacy ones, besides being wildly mismatched to my completely non-lacy wardrobe, don't even look like they'd provide much protection from the sun, and with my luck, the Chinese characters on the paper parasols probably read something along the lines of, "This stupid white person doesn't know what her parasol says." The parasol, like any other accessory, does need to bear some relation to the other items one is wearing and carrying, and to one's lifestyle, if it's not to look ridiculous. I need something I can carry when I'm wearing clothes made from jersey, khaki, and denim.





But as always when I can't buy a suitable version of something I want, I start wondering whether I can possibly make it myself. Then I google the matter and find out. I found the beautiful lace parasol above, made by Maiya Mayhem from a heavily modified crochet pattern. It's a wonderful piece of work, but it looks more decorative than functional to me, and it is a little too ornate to go with my casual summer clothes.




Then I found this one, by blogger Mrs. Fife, who has generously shared her project notes on the project's page on Ravelry. Unfortunately, as incredibly impressed as I am with her work, again this parasol won't provide a lot of protection from the sun and is too lacy. And I could post more exquisitely knitted lace parasols, but I'm sure you get the point, and if you are here to look for a knitted lace parasol pattern for your wedding, have probably already found one. I think I'll skip to the one practical parasol pattern I found.





I very much like this parasol, which is a Knitty design from Spring 2007. It should provide decent shade and sunburn protection. It's simple yet polished in style, and, if made in a neutral colour, will complement my clothes and other accessories. Perhaps most importantly, it won't make me feel like some absurdist theatre version of Scarlett O'Hara (it's not like I even get what people admire in the original). I think I shall begin keeping an eye out for a vintage parasol frame that is worthy of this pattern. I am already dreaming of being able to walk outside in July without getting black spots in front of my eyes. And — dare I hope? — of fewer scoldings from my dermatologist. Sad little dreams, I know, but they are mine.

Ready! Steady! Knit!

Check out this video, which gives us a sneak peak into what happens at a training camp for an elite squad of knitting grandmas.

Knitting on the Run

So apparently knitting while walking is a thing. For that matter, it's actually never not been a thing; it's fairly common in the more rural parts of Africa, Asia, and South America. It's rare in Western countries these days, though it used to be a practice in the nineteenth century. The Shetland women in the photo above are knitting and carrying a load of peat on their backs. If you think you should at least be able to do half what they do, About.com offers tips on learning to knit while you're walking and there's even a product called a Go Knit pouch that will aid you in your efforts (and it's also supposed to be a very handy and effective tote for knitting while travelling).

I don't think I'll be trying it myself. While researching this post I read half a dozen blog entries written by knitters who had taken to knitting while walking. All of them reported that they both walked and knitted more slowly when they combined the tasks. It took them something like 25-33% more walking time to go the same distance, and probably a similar extra increment of time to finish their knitting projects. So I don't see it as much of a time saver. And these walker/knitters also joked about bumping into telephone posts and "holding up traffic", which makes me concerned for their safety, and even more for the safety of others around them. Knitting while walking probably works better in a rural setting where there isn't much traffic of any kind — I mean, the Shetland knitters above aren't exactly in danger of getting into the way of the donkey behind them. Preoccupied people walking about in an urban environment can so easily step into the path of a car or cause some other mishap. I get so frustrated as it is by people who go about wired to their iPods and who are consequently clued out to the fact that they're blocking an entryway, that someone is trying to speak to them, or that someone around them might need help, and I should think knitting would be equally self-absorbing. Even pedestrians have a responsibility to be mindful of their surroundings, and pedestrians who are holding two pointed pieces of metal are surely under even greater obligation to be careful. If you decide to knit and walk, please avoid knitting while walking in heavily trafficked areas, or when the ground is icy. Your safety, and the safety of others, is far more important than the production of another pair of cabled socks.

If you're really raring to knit while on the move, you might look to Susie Hewer, "the Extreme Knitting Redhead", for inspiration. Hewer, who will be 56 this June, knits while running marathons to raise money for Alzheimer's research, and has racked up a couple of Guinness World Records in the process. Now that's multi-tasking. Hewer has raised nearly £25,000 during the past seven years, and in 2008 she set a record for knitting the longest scarf while running a marathon (3', if you care to know), and in 2010 she gained the Guinness World Record for stitching the longest crochet chain.

Marathon routes tend to be cordoned off, so that must leave Hewer freer to safely concentrate on her work and her running. And I'm so impressed by her accomplishments that I think I might have to go take a nap.

Flitting into Victorian Times and Knitwear

I can't believe I have somehow gone for more than three years without knowing about the work of Beth Hahn, an artist, writer, and knitwear designer who has written and illustrated in watercolours a series called The Adventures of Miss Flitt, a four-part, steampunk-ish, Victorian mystery novel, each installment of which contains six character-based knitting patterns. I mean, I love mysteries, I love history, I love knitwear design, I especially love knitwear design that references literature and history — how did this happen? However, the situation will soon be remedied. I intend to read the shit out these books as soon as I can get them into my hands, and for those of you who may not be familiar with Hahn's work, I shall try to fill you in.

The narrative follows Emma Flitt into a nineteenth-century New York filled with magicians, clairvoyants, charlatans, and pickpockets, as she unravels the mysterious disappearance of her sister Lucy. Hahn offers patterns for some of the items her characters wear. She has said that she hasn't been strictly historically accurate in her designs so as to keep them wearable for contemporary wear, which just shows good design principles. Let us hope, for instance, that Hahn hasn't offered us an item with pockets that would be easy to pick. But let's have a look at a few of the designs she has proffered in the Miss Flitt books.





This sweater is the Gretel pattern. It's understated and yet with interesting details. The hat is Emma's City Beret.





This is the Séance Shawl. The lacework is lovely and the shawl appears to drape really well.





This is the Nadya Corset and the Nadya Slip. Of course Victorian women would have worn items like these under several more layers of clothing, but you'll be appearing out just like this, like a brazen hussy.

You can read a very good January 2011 interview with Hahn, in which she describes the process of creating the books, on Popshifter, visit the Miss Flitt blog, and Hahn's main web site, and also check out some of her patterns on Ravelry.

The Olympknits

Take a look at this knitted rendering of the Olympics, by Alan Baker and Laura Long. From a Chariots of Fire-esque opening scene to the lofty commentary by "Phil Sportsman" to the streaker, it has all the excitement of the Olympics, if none of the muscle definition.

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.

The Knitting Mania, and Those Who Hate It

It seems that as long as there have been those who are avid knitters, there have been non-knitters who complain about it. One of my exes complained that it made him feel as though "he must not be very important" when I knitted while we watched TV rather than cuddling with him. Sorry, darling. Here's hoping your current partner has two left thumbs. Another pointed out that it was "not cost-efficient" for me to knit when I could earn the money to buy the item in much less time. He also kept quoting Anthony Robbins at me. I'm sure he's still out there somewhere making facile and condescending observations to some woman who, happily, isn't me.

The Hampshire Advertiser & Salisbury Guardian published the poem below on Saturday, December 11, 1847, only a few decades after knitting had become commonplace among English women of all classes. The poet, though he felt he "must speak out his mind", did so anonymously. He was, after all, criticizing an armed camp. I can't help wondering if he got the kind of wife he wanted, one who never did needlework for pleasure but instead was happy to only attend to the necessary sewing and mending and "every duty prize". Because if he did find such a woman, I bet she either developed an addiction to laudanum or decamped with the chimney sweep within a few years.



The Knitting Mania


I really must — it is no use — I must speak out my mind
And wonder how the ladies can delight in knitting find;
Such pointed, pricking, sharp-edged tools, such rolling balls of thread,
Such puzzling over bewildering rules with such bewilder’d head.


My mother and my sisters four are clever in this way,
They knit at morning, noon and night; they knit, in fact, all day;
Their little bags, their pointed pins, are in their fingers ever;
In short, I really do believe, they’ve got the knitting fever.


And, after all, what good results, come from such industry?
It is not comforters, or socks, they ever knit for me;
But pence-jugs, purses, smoking-caps, while over chair and screen
Are knitted clothes of every kind, and newest patterns seen.


We’ve mats for every standing thing, we’ve covers for each dish;
We’ve knitted cloths for bread and cheese, for fruit, and flesh, and fish;
Our rich dessert dish is fill’d up with bobbins starch’d and clean,
We wipe our mouths in d’Oyleys of every pattern seen.


How many a scratch and prick I get! I could not count them all!
How many a time about my feet I get the tangled ball.
And often have I borne away a handsome square of knitting
Which clung unto my buttons from the chair where I’ve been sitting.


Alas! Alas! each stitch of work I now must pay for doing
My sisters they will knit for me, but cannot think of sewing.
No buttons can I get put on; no gloves can I get mended,
All little comforts of my home are now left unattended.


I might get married, certainly — but I’ll not think of this —
I know how much a knitting wife can marr domestic bliss;
There are such things as knitted caps, and robes, and trimmings too,
And many other pretty things the ladies now can do.


No — I shall wait until I find a wife as wives should be —
Who for all taste of fancy work of every kind is free;
One who will gladly make, and mend, and every duty prize,
Which may increase her loveliness in a fond husband’s eyes.