Here’s that weird “anymore” again:
I went makeup shopping this weekend for the first time in a very long time, only because my lipstick was completely gone and I needed more. I am absolutely monogamous to lipsticks anymore.
The song “Knitta Please” (follow the link below; it’s on the right-hand column) was featured recently on Cast On, one of my most favorite podcasts. It’s not going to be very amusing to non-knitters, but I’d like to point out the following:
All my knitters in the back click clack
Gonna take the craft fair back
Don’t be whack yo, show your craft
Don’t be taking no flack from the crochet bitches
Their bullshit craft got me in stitches and purls
Cause it’s a knitter’s world.
Their lameass craft ain’t nothing but cheese
Knitta please.
These are what appear to be knit moleskine covers. What an excellent idea. (However, I wonder if I can knit a moleskine cover with effective pen storage functionality.)
This person appears to be a serial knitter of really embarassing dog hats. I am horrified, yet fascinated.
Ah, apparently Knitty is good for something other than patterns that are slightly too hip for me.
Of course, most of the other patterns out there are not hip enough for me, as odd as that may sound to those of you who have a sense of my hipness…but the level of dorkiness achievable by knitting can make me look like Dave frickin’ Eggers.
But to come back to the point, this is a pretty engaging overview, though the use of knitting direction and writing direction as evidence seems a little fuzzy to me. I also have concerns about that Indus Valley reference. As far as I can tell, Dura-Europos is in Syria. (Thought wouldn’t it be great if we found out the Indus Valley Script was actually the earliest knitting notation?) Other than that, both entertaining and informative—particularly the stuff on nalbinding.
Also, I want to make a joke about the “first dateable hunk of knitting,” but in order to make it sound credible, I’d need a sex change and a time machine.
From one of the knitting blogs I occasionally read, comes a travel story that sounds like something from Andrew:
As usual most abroad do not think I am American until I open my mouth. Lufthansa crews invariably addressed me in German, and in Istanbul was generally assumed I am Italian or Spanish. Ship’s crew thinks I am Jewish, chefs keep advising me which dishes contain pork.
Eschertastic.
We just can’t get enough knitted cephalopods.
The care symbols on wool are often cryptic.