Flint Knits

Monkey: We hereby dub thee … Ramona Bananapants.

First of all, it just rolls of the tongue, doesn’t it? Ramona Bananapants. Ramona Bananapants.

Second, it evokes a lovely kind of sexual/gender ambiguity: I mean, she’s Ramona! But she’s got a Banana in her Pants! (Take that, heteronormative gender fascists!) And, since Ramona lives on a queer grad student’s shelf where she regularly fondles (and, let’s be honest, humps) an ironically framed photo of Michel Foucault, it just seemed right.

Unfortunately, while Blogless Canadian Rebecca (yes, that’s her real name) chose the winning name, her entry came after the official deadline. SO, she is the proud winner of bragging rights and a small consolation prize.

The Woolgirl gift certificate will go to the runner up: the fabulous Heather, who suggested “Snatch” as a nod to Ramona’s vaginer-like countenance. As Ryan pointed out, sexually-themed names were clearly the way to go in this contest.

But don’t feel bad, Blogless Canadian Rebecca! I mean, no one remembers who got the crown when Vanessa Williams was robbed.

Thanks so, so much to everyone who entered those hilarious, adorable, thoughtful, and clever names. This was my favorite contest ever.

Oh, and I finished a pair of socks. Yeah, that’s right. A PAIR.

pattern: Nancy Bush’s Child’s First Sock in Shell Pattern, from Knitting Vintage Socks
yarn: Koigu Premium Merino, color #2504, from Yarnzilla
needles: 2.5mm Addi circulars

modifications: skipped 1 pattern repeat; substituted eye of partridge heel + wedge toe.

If you’re a sock knitter who hasn’t made this pattern yet, Do It. It was one of the most satisfying sock-knitting experiences I’ve ever had. That might have something to do with the yarn, though — semi-solid Koigu has never let me down.

And I only waited 8 months in between the two socks! (Laura is my sister in this — see her salty recipe for how to defeat Second Sock Syndrome. Or check out Megan’s strategy for embracing it.)

Happy Hump Day, all! I’m going to go spend mine with Ramona and Michel.
If you know what I mean.
(Know what I mean?)

Grumperina, Minty, Kristy, Margene, Lolly, and a heap of other folks have talked/written at some length about what it means to be a process knitter versus a product knitter.

And it was never clear to me where (or whether) my own crafty practices fit into this binary.

I mean, I love stuff. I love clothes in particular. And I love handknit clothes particularly in particular.

I wear almost all of my handknits. What I don’t wear, I frog and reknit into something I’ll get use out of.

The unique joy of finishing a knitted piece is something rare and precious to me.

So, in spite of how much I enjoy the processes of knitting, I’ve always thought, maybe I am a product/object knitter. Which is fine by me. I have no shame regarding my love of material stuff or of fashion.

But then this happened:

I was backstage at a show with my band, and there was a random, dusty old skein of blue acrylic yarn lying around.

I found two pencils, and started experimenting with left-leaning decreases.

With pencils.

At a rock and roll show.

This, friends, is the heart of a Process Knitter.

Even so, I will maintain that I’m a hybrid (as I suspect most people and things are in this world), partly because I was so thrilled to put that little swatch to use as an impromptu bow tie for my friend Jesse.

pattern: none
yarn: found
needles: nope

Roscoe is a long haired chihuahua who lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Last winter was his first, and he spent it trembling, shivering, and staying out of the snow as much as possible.

So this year, his family asked me to make him a sweater.

And talk about your functional handknits? When it’s time for a walk, Roscoe now fetches his own sweater, and plays happily outside, neck-deep in the snow.

UPDATE: I put a heap ton of pictures up on Flickr from these books. Check out my new photosets!
1940s-50s
1980s
“Hand Knits for Young Moderns“

I think I’ve mentioned before that I don’t have much of a yarn stash — at least not compared with most of the folks I’ve seen on Ravelry. And I don’t buy a whole lot of pattern books, especially when I’m in Minneapolis, where the public libraries have a huge and up-to-date collection of them.

I do have a stash, though. A shameful, ridiculous, enormous stash of about 100 vintage knitting and crochet patterns, books, and pamphlets. If I see one at a yard sale, flea market or thrift shop, I can’t not buy it.

Some of them are beautiful. Some of them are funny. Some are just plain weird. And, if you read between the lines of the patterns and images, some even tell stories about rationing during WWII, about how white middle class families were represented during the Cold War, or about how leftist countercultures of the late 60s shaped handknitting fashion.

And each of them cost less than $1.

[click photo for details]

I recently proposed a swap with Ms. Stitchywitch — to trade the pattern she used for her lovely 80s sweater for one in my stash. Trouble is, I had to find a way to let her browse my giant vintage pattern library. So, Stitchywitch, here are a few of my favorites. Let me know which ones you’d like to see more of!

To Whom it May Concern:

If you found a digital camera in the fabric section of the Courtland Center JoAnn store in Flint, Michigan, please let me know. Also, you might NOT want to look at the photos stored on the camera, as they include dozens of snapshots from the last several days on the road with my lover’s rock band.

Those photos might, for instance, feature myself and members of said rock band humping a giant stuffed Santa Claus on the dirty floor of a venue called “The Fortress of Solid Dudes.” Don’t ask.

I’d especially like to have my camera today, since it’s my 29th birthday, and I want to take pictures of the celebration tonight. And I have a finished Baby Surprise Jacket and another ’surprise’ finished craft project that I’d like to share with my online friends. (Yes, my online friends — who are kind enough to judge me by my crafty deeds, and not by any embarrassing photos they might find on my digital camera… including those that may involve toilets, Red Bull, and/or horse drawn carriages. Don’t ask.)

So, yeah. Please return the camera. It’s my birthday, after all.
xo, Pam