Now that I’ve finally finished my degree in textile arts [I am no longer calling it fibres because no one knows what I’m talking about when I say this. Mostly people think I’ve spent 4 years studying to be a dietitian. At this point, it seems like that would have been the wiser choice.]
I was lucky to have learned how to knit from an instruction manual, because knitting wasn’t taught in the structures programs. Neither was crochet or sewing. But I did learn how to weave cloth and…baskets. And because I wasn’t taught the ‘correct’ way to knit, I have spent the past 8 tender years as a ‘throw’ knitter. For those of you who don’t know what throw knitting is, it is the method of knitting with the yarn held in the right hand, essentially ‘throwing’ the yarn for the new stitch over to the left hand to be knit. It is considered inferior to the continental method, because it is the slightly lower method of knitting. Granted, tension is better controlled through throwing, as both hands are used to control the yarn AND the stitch, instead of one for each. But as far as the debate is concerned – the divisive methods of knitting are about as logical as the Lilliputian war over how one’s eggs are cracked. I know what I like and I am really good at throw knitting. Like the rest of my artistic life, I would rather be awesome at sucking than suck at being awesome.
The problem with knitting is knitters. Popular thought and craft respect is directly related to technical skill. The only good knitters are those who knit well, who knit perfectly. Imagination has little to do with the success of the project. The determining factor is the degree of difficulty related to the project [and for the love of god, don’t even think of passing stockinette off as legitimate] and the final product. You know what my problem with most knitters are? Unless there’s something really progressive about the craft – like costuming or yarnbombing [I’m not just playing favourites, either] – it is so TWEE I want to vomit. There. I said it. The kiss of death. Contrary to popular hipster belief, doing something well isn’t going to make you a good artist, or any kind of artist. Doing something badly isn’t going to make you an artist either [Damien Hirst and Tune Yards or whatever your name is, I’m looking at you]. Knit because you’re cold, or because you love a person and want to give them your heart. Knit because you want your voice to be seen in broad daylight on Lexington Avenue. Knit because you can’t imagine your life not knitting.
Or maybe you’re like me and would rather be crocheting.
