Pavement scarf + camo tote + some cliches

26 Aug

Neither of these projects quite merits its own: I should wait to post the scarf pictures until I have modeled shots, but I was getting impatient. This thing has been on the needles since about March, and I am sick of it. First, the tote. I got this camo fabric with the intention of making C some manly tote bags. He was skeptical, arguing that there’s no such thing as a manly tote. And I’m sorry to say that I now think he’s correct. I went so far as to alter the proportions here so it wouldn’t be quite so long and narrow, but even a squat tote bag still reads as somewhat feminine. Still, more grocery/ library bags are always welcome and C is very secure in his masculinity anyway.

Very roomy and good for hiding!

Yesterday–after a fantastic week that began with the news that I’d been awarded a special surprise fellowship I didn’t even I was up for–I got a fairly devastating reader’s report on an article I’d sent out. Well, rejection is part of the academic process and I’m cool with that in theory, but the reality of reading an anonymous stranger’s undermining of your entire project is still a bit destabilizing.

Holy cat hair!

I had pinned and blocked this scarf (Jared Flood’s Pavement) the night before, and as I tearfully freed it last night while fixating on several choice phrases from that reader’s report, I started thinking about the process of blocking: taking something that looks a hot mess and coaxing it into shape, letting it bloom so you can appreciate all its hard-earned complexities. The metaphorical relationship of text/ textile is fairly well established and frankly a little old-fashioned, but it was still nice to think about, that really there’s not much different between writing an article and knitting a cabled scarf: both are complex, lengthy projects that get quite tedious by the end; both require deft manipulation of the source material; both require extensive post-production processing; and both make my carpal tunnel act up.

A lovely stack of wool. Now if only it would cool off below 90 degrees.

OK, although I can’t really see myself crying over a scarf.


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