Tomorrow, my blog turns five.

(Is it time to pack it a lunch and send it to kindergarten? Will the other blogs make fun of it or beat it up? Might I be better off homeschooling my dear little blog?)

Anyway. One more post about "how stuff's changed." This time: how the world of craft - or at least the tiny corner of it that I see - has changed.

I really think the big "upsurge" in knitting is not tied to September 11, 2001, as much as the "a political link for every human behavior" people say. Knitting was already gaining popularity when I went back to it, and that was well before 2001.

I think part of the increasing popularity of craft is due to the fact that so many of us do "virtual" work: we don't actually make stuff for a living. Very few people make "stuff," in the strictest sense of stuff, for a living any more. And I think we miss that. I think on some level we are hard wired to want to manipulate our environment, to experiment, to play (if you will). And when you're manipulating electrons (or TPS reports, or knowledge), that's kind of a poor second to building things or cooking things or making art.

I think also the popularity of craft has burgeoned because of the information explosion. When I was a kid, if you wanted to learn a new craft, you could do three different things to learn it: find a book on it, find a person who knew it and could teach you, or take a class in it. If it was an uncommon craft and you lived in a remote area, you were very likely out of luck. But with the internet, and with things like HGTV, there's a lot more sources of instruction - even in people living in Valentine, Nebraska, or places like that, can get access to it.

I also think the Internet plays a HUGE role in terms of being a supportive community. If you're having a problem with a pattern, you can post a "help!" many different places, and someone is likely to answer. And very often, I've found, answer quickly and graciously and provide EXACTLY the help you need. Or you can post, "Hey, look at this thing I just made" and you'll get a bunch of people going "Oh, that's cool" or "that rox!" or "how did you do that? Can you share details?" Or you can say "What do you think about this?" and people will tell you. They'll even get into a discussion about it in your absence.

And that's just crazy amazing, when you think about it - people who never met each other, most of them. People who might not even LIKE each other in real life. But they can all sit around the electronic campfire and swap stories about this thing that they love so much.

I don't think I'd be as avid a crafter without the Internet and my Invisible Internet Friends to support me. It's one thing to finish a sweater and try it on and go, "yeah, that looks pretty good." It's totally another level of joy to post a picture of it and have people give you the equivalent of high five's or "you go, girl!"s about it. And likewise, when you try something on and you just get kind of a hinky feeling about it - or when you read a pattern and get that hinky feeling about it - and you post "Something's wrong here but I don't quite know what," you will often get agreement, and even suggestions as to what's not right.

But you know, I've been using the internet as a knitting-adjunct for about 10 years now, and 9 times out of 10, it's been nothing but a good experience. (That 10th time, I'll not talk about. Other than to observe that it doesn't TAKE all kinds, there just ARE all kinds.)

Okay, maybe in some places I'll expand this out to the past 10 years. I have been knitting more or less "seriously" for the past 10 years - I picked up again in 1997 (after learning as a kid and mostly just making some rather ugly all garter stitch scarves). I picked it up again because of Autumn Print Woolease.

Yeah, I know. Woolease. The stuff the label-snobs love to hate. But you know? It was (and still is) a good basic yarn: it's washable, it's not got so much wool in it that people who think wool is "too hot" or "scratchy" object to it. It feels nicer than many of the acrylics. (I think I didn't take to knitting at first because all I thought that was out there was the basic type of Red Heart, and I'm just not fond of the basic type of Red Heart's texture)

I also got recaptured into knitting by knitting-in-the-round. I made my first ever mittens in 1997. I thought it was hard, I thought it was complex. But my mom showed me how to do it and I realized:

a. this knitting in the round stuff is fun
b. you almost never have to purl
c. there's almost no seaming to do when you're done

So I branched out into socks and hats. And eventually sweaters-in-the-round, although my first was a knit-flat sweater (and knit-flat has its place; you can make a more structured and shaped sweater that way, IMHO - the side seams DO something.)

I think what also kept me going with knitting was that I got one of those "catalogs of catalogs" things - and I saw that there were knitting catalogs to be had. So I sent off for Lion Brand's catalog (and soon found that if you could find what you wanted at Hobby Lobby, it was a buck or two cheaper than the catalog, plus no shipping) and the Patternworks catalog.

The Patternworks catalog was a revelation. I had been dimly aware there were different weights of yarn, dimly aware of different fiber mixes. But I didn't realize there was ANYTHING like the diversity that Patternworks offered.

And I began ordering. First, small orders: a ball or two of sockyarn. Enough of a boucle for a hat. My biggest order - and this was while I was in grad school - came after a person on the Knitlist - someone who was either misinterpreting the situation out of ignorance or malice - claimed that there would soon be "new tariffs" on European wool that would effectively double the price of a ball of sockyarn. So I kind of gulped, and I figured, "Well, she could be wrong, but...." and I sent off my $96.85 order to Patternworks.

And I think that's one of the big changes - there are SO many sources now. The Internet is an amazing tool for acquiring the yarn you want. Small businesspeople can sell far beyond the usual reach of their shop. (And I know one small businessman - not a woolseller, a used bookseller - who says he'd be out of business now were it not for the Internet and being able to reach thousands of people across the world).

All of those companies I love - Elann (I ordered from them first, I think, back in '99). Carodan Farm (found more recently but is usually my first stop for a particular name-branded yarn: if they have it, I'll buy from them, they ship so fast.). Morehouse Farm and Blackberry Ridge (I link them in my mind because they're both small producers and they both make their yarn on site. And for both of them, the yarn has that nice "rustic" quality to it). Smaller sellers like Simply Sock Yarn and Lisa Souza.

None of that would be possible - or at least not as easy - without the Internet.

I think in the past ten years a lot more things have become available. I remember when self-striping and self-patterning sockyarn first came out - what a wonder it was (and yeah, I know, I've heard rumors that there was self-argyling yarn back in the 50s but I'm not sure I believe them, in the absence of evidence). How excited everyone was about it!

I STILL like the self-patterning yarns. They amuse me on a deep level. No, more than amuse: they appeal to my sense of whimsy. There is something fundamentally unserious about a yarn that will make stripes or zigzags as you knit it up. I've said it many times, but it reminds me of the old cartoon gag about "plaid paint."

Noro has also come on the scene. Kureyon, with its sometimes-bizarre chains of colors. And Iro, and Silk Garden, and all those other beautiful colored yarns, some of which cost the Earth, and which so many knitters love.

And Lorna's Laces. I'm not sure when it first came out but I know I ordered some from (the late, lamented) eKnitting back in 2000 or so. And hand-dyed yarns of all sorts - they've really come to the fore, where previously, most of the variegated yarn was machine done.

And Koigu - that's another yarn that's become pretty standard for knitters. (I don't use a lot of it; it's got a bit expensive for me. But I do recognize it as a quality yarn).

There's also been a trend - or perhaps it's just the re-cycling of an older idea - to "house brand" yarns. Elann does it (and their yarns are by and large very nice), KnitPicks is now EXCLUSIVELY house brand (and what of theirs I've used, I've liked - with the exception of the solid color "Essential" sockyarn). Even Patternworks offers a few "house brand" yarns now.

There are two downsides to all this diversity.

One is that there seem to be "yarn cliques." There are people who don't like Noro - and that's fine, I realize it has its flaws. But some of those people loudly wonder why people would "pay good money" for it, or declare that it's a "fad" - kind of an Emperor's New Clothes thing, where one designer or knitter said it was good, and because s/he has a lot of respect, people listen.

And there are the people who diss the self-striping yarns, who talk about how they're "lazy people's yarns" or that they knit up imperfectly or how any knitter 'worth her salt' would take the time to do REAL fair isle.

Dislike the self-striping yarns if you must, but please don't diss them (or the people who love them) in my presence. I'm a diehard self-patterning-sockyarn freak, and making fun of them or people who knit them to me is kind of like telling a woman her baby is ugly and probably stupid.

I guess with any hobby becoming large and popular, you do get the snob contingent.


Now, don't get me wrong: I'm not one of those "all yarns are good for everything" people. Yarns have their places and purposes. I'm not above using a furry yarn - but you won't catch me making a hot-pink hairy sweater to wear, unless I'm auditioning for a live-action version of the Muppets. But for certain times and certain places: fur yarns can work. Ditto with Red Heart. I'm not crazy about it, and I will more likely choose wool for my own personal use. But for people with kids it's a godsend. For people who knit laprobes for nursing homes - laprobes likely to be thrown in "hot" with other laundry - it's the ideal thing. It's just, I'd not want a sweater for myself out of it, nor socks.

But I don't like the snob thing.

There's also the bandwagony people, the people who will do things uncritically because some Big Famous Author or Big Famous Magazine or Big Famous Blogger talks about it - and some of them almost buy into the Emperor's New Clothes thing about it - in other words: "there must be something wrong with me because Koigu doesn't send me into spasms of ecstasy like it does other knitters." No, it just means you don't like Koigu as well as they do; maybe there's something you like better. Go out and find it and don't feel bad that you're unmoved by the Koigu. But also recognize that the people who like it aren't idiots; everyone has different taste and for God's sake, it's yarn - it's not like it's the Mona Lisa or anything.


I also think I see the snob thing showing up in what people choose to knit - I've read comments from people (on the knitlist among other places) that basically implied they'd rather DIE than knit from a pattern someone else wrote - that only self-designed stuff is good enough for them.

You know? If you can design all your own stuff, my hat's off to you. But don't act as if the rest of us are somehow less than you - if you are on the Mt. Olympus of knitters and the rest of us are centipedes writhing in the dirt - just because we haven't taken the time or effort to design. For some of us, time is very much an issue. I'd rather find a pattern I really like that's already 'done up' (and there are a LOT out there), and sit down and start knitting right away, instead of swatching and testing and trying and ripping and then, maybe 2 years later, getting my sweater.

Another thing I really loathe - and I will not talk at length about it here, because I have elsewhere and I want to move on to a cheerier topic - is the whole "not your granma's/mom's knitting." Ugh, ugh, ugh. Look, we live in a society that already somewhat marginalizes older women. Shouldn't craft - especially craft done by and written about by women who purport to be feminists - try to avoid this same tired ageist stereotype?

I mean, try the same old trick they recommend with other things. Would you say that a tough, he-man style sweater is "not your typical gay knitting?" Or other things, that I hesitate to make examples of here...

Look, there was probably a time when humanity survived because of the knowledge gathered and passed on by the elders. It's too bad now that they don't seem to matter as much.

But as I said: on to happier things. What are my optimistic predictions for craft in the future?

1. Knitting will continue to be popular. A lot of the people who started on furry scarves will realize they want to learn more complex stuff, and there will be a big market for books of interesting tailored patterns.

2. There will be a big movement to preserve and promote "heirloom wool" breeds of sheep, and there will be an explosion of neat, new different types of wool on the market.

3. Sirius radio will launch a knitting and crafting podcast channel. It will become very popular.

4. People will get into rediscovering other heritage crafts, like nalbinding and weaving and different embroidery styles. Lots of folk knowledge will be preserved or rediscoverd.

5. More and more small yarn producers (dyers, spinners, small sheep farms with spinning capacity) will set up shop and sell mainly on the Internet.

6. Someone will write a Master's thesis or a dissertation on the relationship of topology, geometry, and mathematics to knitting or crochet. There will grow out of the project a scientific society for people who are mathematically/geometrically oriented and who also like to play with fiber. (I would totally love to go to their annual meetings).

7. People will in general begin to discard the ideas of "label consciousness," of status brands, of being like everyone else. There will be an upswing in making your own stuff, in thriftshopping (only this time it won't be as a counter-culture rebellion thing that's just another type of conformity). People will pay less attention to celebrities and more attention to craftspeople. People like Cheryl Oberle will be seen as tastemakers, rather than Paris Hilton.

8. And yes, one not so optimistic one: there will still be people out there who will roll their eyes and go, "this is all a fad. I was knitting before knitting was cool. Now knitting is too 'mainstream' and I don't think I like it any more. I'm going to go make glass beads and make fun of what sheep these knitters be." And there will still be people who don't get it, who will post comments on knitting related bulletin boards saying they think "knitting is teh gay." They will immediately be flamed by 5500 enraged knitters. Because that's just human nature, I've learned.