R&B Stitchery

Yeah you can learn Norwegian for 6 weeks on duolingo. You can try out piano for two months. You can try writing the first few chapters of a novel.

(To be put into an elliptic hoop, patch, or framing mat) This was a surprise to both of us because we don’t consider ourselves apolitical, but we do try to find the grey area between making important statement pieces and things that are light and silly for those that need a respite from it all. Regardless we loved the idea, and it’s perfectly timed for our return from Stitchtober into our normal scheduled content.  Because of our standard timeline of releases we’re also attaching the grid view for this one for those that want to knock it out ASAP. Otherwise the regular .pdf will be out on Friday when we normally put such things up. 

flatwork(see above) starts at $30 and i can do beaded pins, patches, earrings, etc. i can do mini flatwork pins(under 1.5 inch diameter) for $15. average price for earrings is $45, $65 for patches or large pins.

Brickstich earrings with and without fringe start at $25, i can do earrings, keychains or anything dangly with brickstitch. average price is $35-45

It’s because after spending serious £££ on materials, and then HUNDREDS OF HOURS OF LABOR on the creation of the item, with every stitch a prayer of totally focused intent, creating a large display of technical skill - it is then gifted to a non-knitter who does NOT APPRECIATE the work/effort/skill/cost/TIME it took to make it, and in fact thinks you’re a bit weird and making a big deal out of a piece of clothing, and after they go “oh thanks” and shove your creation in the cupboard next to a sweater they got for £15 at an M&S sale, then they never wear your sweater because it’s too tight because when you asked them how their favorite sweaters usually fit they said “I ‘unno” and when you measured them for the fifth time and asked, rather tersely, if they had enough room in the chest, they said “I guess,” and then if pressed they say they don’t really like the sweater design, but then you point out that they were supposed to participate in helping you design it and they say they don’t really care about how things look, and when you say that you tried to match it to their other clothes so how can they hate it, then they say that honestly their mother still buys all their clothes because they hate going shopping, and that they hate all their other clothes too, well. That’s when a sensible knitter goes “Fuck this shit. And you know what? Fuck this man.”

This is what happens when someone posts in a knitting forum “Attack of the sweater curse!” - this is the usual story. It has a rigid plot. It is as old as myth.

That’s when you look at the time you spent and realize, “I could LITERALLY have written the first draft of a novel instead of doing this.” That’s when you go “I could have taken that £200 and bought myself a new wardrobe.” That’s when you go “I could have taken all that intent, all that willpower, all that creative force, and laid down some fucking witchcraft, all right?” That’s when you go “I basically spent 100 hours straight thinking about this bastard while making something amazing for him, and I have no evidence that he ever spent 10 hours of his life thinking about me.”

And “I could spend this time and energy and money in making myself an enormous, intricate heirloom silk shawl with just a touch of cashmere, in elvish twists and leafy lace in all the colors of the night, shot through with subtly glittering stars, warm in winter and cool and summer and light as a lover’s kiss on the shoulders, suitable for draping over my arms at weddings or wrapping myself in to watch the sea, a lace-knotted promise to myself that I will keep for my entire life and gift to my favorite granddaughter when I die, and she will wear it to keep alive my memory - but instead I have this sweater, and this fuckboy.”

The sweater curse is a lesson that the universe gives to a knitter at an important point in their life. It is a gift.

Knitting a sweater for a husband or wife generally doesn’t call down the curse, because the relationship is meant to be stronger than 4-ply.

They’re the Hinksey mittens from Fyberspates. They are a very nice design. There is no reason underlying the universe. https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/hinksey

Also, i’ve said before that this second-person comedy POV in this post is fictional. It’s a bit to make you laugh! I have never actually experienced the sweater curse myself. I was simply reporting on observations from many, many stitch&bitches.

However, in 2019 I faced a different sweater curse, which I’d like to record for science. Over the course of many months I knitted an amazing fairisle jumper for my husband. This was my first jumper for adults. I poured my 2019 energy into a jumper that - impossibly - was too small for him in the yoke.

I blocked, reblocked, hissed obscenities at my test swatches, stared for hours at the similar projects on Ravelry that had worked perfectly well on identical men, steam blocked, and grafted several different designs of underarm gussets into the armpit. I considered afterthought-steeking it with stretch panels. I considered steeking it into a cardigan. My husband was an active participant in the whole process, which made it worse, but even he balked at steeking. (Steeking, or cutting, is the blood sacrifice of knitting; afterthought steeking, where you slice open a knitted item with a blade and try to catch and bind every single loop, is necromancy.)

It works as a jumper. Just not for him. I just need to start the jumper over again in one size up. This is not unreasonable.

I can’t bear to frog it yet (it’s a complete object ; it was my 2019, the only thing I finished; it’s objectively one of the nicest things I’ve ever made) because Brain Says No. It has to be frogged, because I need the materials. And now I realistically won’t be able to pick it up again for a long time.

So I submit to the board: the Love Curse of Knitters. When you love someone so much, and circumstances (incl. curses) conspire to prevent you from finishing things for them, it can become a Whole Thing, and you end up with the cobbler’s children going barefoot. It doesn’t hit everyone, and it isn’t a problem when it does, it’s just something to be aware of, because i think there’s a good way to break it.

I observed a similar problem when a friend knitted an item for a baby she was really excited about, but got tangled up in a problem with it, and the baby grew up before she finished it. She’s an experienced knitter, so the frustration was a tremendous roadblock. A curse, if you like. She couldn’t happily take on new projects (including a new item for that child) until the Problem Was Fixed, but the Problem seemed to be supernatural and malicious in origin, and the activation energy to attack it became higher and higher. Not wanting to give up knitting forever, she gave the half-finished item to me, to finish for our baby. This broke the curse instantly.

I think that passing on the object of attachment is key. I believe I could break the curse on the mittens by handing the pattern notes and materials to a friend, and asking them to get past the Curse Zone for me. I could give away the jumper to someone, or ask a friend to frog it for me. (I don’t want to tear it apart, but I wouldn’t mind it going away and coming back as several balls of yarn.)

Eat Pant stitched and designed by ouch.creations. Based on the Bootleg Bart cake.

It’s September 1!

I was going to wait until after Labor Day to put out any fall decorations, but I’ve been so anxious lately that I went ahead and put out my Halloween cross stitch that I completed last fall.