knitting hierarchies and a mind-numbing treatise on my own philosophy of knitting

1. I finally got my emailed invite to Ravelry.com. Yay!! I immediately clicked through the link and registered as unskeined. The sucky thing was that I was at work at the time, and couldn't really spend much time clicking around or reading. I am soooo looking forward to diving into it this weekend for real. After I got the account set up, it was another hour before I could leave work, and I have to admit, I was useless for most of that time.

Between the surprise Ravely invite (I mean, I signed up but didn't really expect the email so soon!) and trying to figure out where my seat is in Radio City for the True Colors concert with Spanky via email, and thinking about FINALLY getting to go buy yarn tomorrow with my friend Angela (for the Master Knitter program! I'm not randomly buying yarn anymore! Honestly. I mean it this time...), I couldn't concentrate at all. Also, one of the books I worked on is up for a Lambda Literary Award, and the ceremony is tonight. I don't think it is going to win, but wow, that would be so cool if it did. All in all, I'm twitchy and anxious, but I suppose these are all good things to be jonesing about.

2. This afternoon I also had a conversation with a relatively new co-worker about knitting. See, I posted a while ago about the Yarn Harlot and how she spoke at FIT about the welcoming spirit and accepting nature of knitters and how I thought that was kind of hype from my own experiences with the snobby yarn shops and the hierarchies I perceived among knit bloggers and knit groups in NYC. And after I wrote it, I thought maybe I'd been too harsh. I mean, it isn't like I've been shunned or anything. I just think that everything is not as unbiased and welcoming as we may all want to think.*

Anyway, what does this have to do with my friend at work? Well, she had just come from another company where there were some rabid knitters, who happen to belong to a big-G Group. A group I've heard of, but have never actually seen in action. And her reaction to knitting was that she thought she would like knitting since she was a weaver, but that she found out that she was so perfectionistic that she could never get anywhere on a project because she would always keep ripping it out. But her friends invited her to their Group, and she went a few times but found the members insuffrable because she could sense very clearly the hierarchies within the group, and it made her uncomfortable.

The fact that she knew them and had this reaction was obviously very interesting to me. I do love gossip. Sadly. But also, I mean, there is a certain amount of herd mentality to the knitting community. Everyone makes the same patterns (for good reason as they are quite awesome, but still, there are TONS of patterns--why the same ones?), virtually everyone professes to dislike ALL acrylic yarn, etc. And I don't have a lot of patience for this side of the knitting "community." But there is also a genuine love of quality, of craftiness, of fierce independence (is that ironic? that thirty people can knit the same sock and yet passionately defend their choice to do so?) that is quite charming and which I think does in fact bind us together as a group.

So why the hating? If someone designs their own patterns, are they inherently better than someone who just knits along happily following someone else's? To be a real knitter, must I really learn to spin and dye my own yarn? Can I only knit dishcloths? Baby clothes? Toys? Or does that make me just a hobbyist that someone who is a big-K Knitter in a big-G Group can feel superior to because they knit fabulous cabled sweaters in hand-spun yarn that was custom-dyed to their specifications by someone they are on a first-name basis with although they've never actually met? And even if I'm not like that personally, is that the implied standard I'm supposed to measure myself against if I want to be a big-K knitter myself?

Anyway, then I started thinking about what draws me to knitting personally. Do I aspire to that aforementioned standard? I don't have much desire to seriously spin (although I am vaguely interested in how a drop spindle works, but not really enough to want to go out and buy one) or to dye my own yarn. I am not even really excited about making up my own patterns, although I suppose that may grow on me someday.

What I really like is the precision of figuring out a written pattern; of turning someone else's words and diagrams into a garment or accessory--something useful. I like trying new patterns and new techniques. I like how logical and (again) precise knitting is. If you follow the steps in order as they're written, then you come out with a predetermined (usually correct, pictured with the pattern, hopefully) result. And if you vary from the directions, you can get interesting riffs that may turn out to be something more desireable, but you at least have a baseline from which to measure the variation (ie: the original pattern). That's why the master knitter program appeals to me, I think. It is logical and goal oriented. Everything builds up to something. When I'm left without directions of even the vaguest kind I shut down. I'm not an artist--I'm a craftsperson. That's what is fun for me. I like pretty yarn as much as the next person. But I don't hoarde it for no reason. My hoarde is built on that potentiality I spoke of in my last post. The potential the yarn has in it to become something else is what I'm attracted to. And I want to use different kinds of yarns to discover the potentiality of different fibers or different weights of yarn. Buying yarn just because it is pretty seems like a waste of money to me. But again, I'm not an artist. I suppose, the standard I'm reaching for is one of vast knowledge and infinite variation, technical skill and confidence in my ability to pick the right patterns and yarn for the right occasion. We'll see if I ever get there.

*Don't get me wrong--I love my knitting group, and I love all the wonderful people I've met online and those who've stopped by my blog and offered a comment or two have my infinite gratitude. I've been fortunate in my personal relations so far. I just want to resist those invisible barriers I feel herding me into the group that is my perceived "caste" based on my appearance or my knitting ability by people who don't know me.

Anyway, next time, PICTURES. A finished sweater sleeve! Swatches, swatches, swatches. And maybe a bit about podcasts. I love them so.