The golden, golden rule

Last week my sister, cousin, and I were in the Amherst, Massachusetts area, poking around the Montague Book Mill--"Books you don't need, in a place you can't find" is its motto--having a lovely day when I came across one of those archetypal bulletin boards that flourish wherever green people congregate.

Perhaps in perusing the above photo, your eyes were seized by the same notice that captured me.

This reminded me that even though it's still August, it's not too early to think about knitting something to contribute to a cold-weather clothing drive, whether it's a hat, scarf, a pair of mittens--or even a kid's sweater, if you're feeling ambitious. I recently researched the history of charitable knitting for an article that's just out in the latest Interweave Knits Holiday Gifts 2013.  It's called "Knitting for Charity:  The Perennial Spirit of Giving" (pages 18-23) and as I worked on the piece,  I found it fascinating to learn that knitting for charity in this country dates to the Revolution (at least the records do--possibly the practice began even earlier). When you knit an item for charitable distribution, you join a great historical continuum of American knitters. That's kind of wonderful, IMHO. 

The article provides a list of databases for charitable knitting, some of which are keyed to specific regions of this country and even the world. If you'd like to donate a knitted something to a charity closer to your home than the Pioneer Valley of Massachusetts, or that serves a specific population (like veterans, Afghani children, preemies), you can find the perfect match for you on one of these. Anyway, this is a shameless plug: the article is a fount of information, and if you buy the magazine you get a bunch of excellent patterns and articles as well!

The Montague Book Mill is a great place to visit. There's a good café downstairs, and you can have a meal or just a drink--including alcohol--at a table overlooking the Sawmill River. And you can buy a lot of books you don't need, but will thoroughly enjoy.

Charitable knitting works two ways. One is to knit something and give it away. Another is to raise money, through selling knitting or through a related endeavor, like the sale of a pattern or a book of patterns, then donate that money to a cause. Such is the mission of a book (published by Sixth and Spring) that's been around since last year: Knit Red: Stitching for Women's Heart Health, by Laura Zander of the Jimmy Beans Wool company.

You can buy it from Jimmy Beans Wool, or on Amazon, and a portion of the proceeds will go to heart disease research. For the price of the book you get thirty lovely, classic patterns by major designers like Deborah Newton, Nora Gaughan, Ysolda Teague, Nicky Epstein, Tanis Gray, and Martin Storey (to name only a few), plus interesting insights from the designers' biographies, a bunch of heart-healthy recipes, and some practical medical advice. Perhaps if you're too busy to knit something for charity, you'd consider buying the book instead, and contribute to funding medical research?

Well, here's the moral of my disquisition.  Whatever you want to do is fine--just don't knit there, do something! Regardless of the intended recipient, it's the charitable act itself that sends lots of good energy into the world.

Yarniana: let the games begin!

For the past year or so I've been the happy recipient of review copies of knitting books, so it seems proper to dedicate some space here, maybe once a month, to telling y'all what's riding the latest incoming wave. Some of these volumes will be familiar to you, or at least their authors will, and others will be novel and amazing. I shall offer my humble opinions, and feel free to agree or not. (Full disclosure:  I prefer to review only books that have what I define as merit. Life is too short to read, or review, unappealing work.) Since summer approaches, I'm going to start by reviewing books that offer heat-friendly knitting, inasmuch as they're dedicated to small or lightweight projects.

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So here it is, The Vogue Knitting Ultimate Hat Book (Sixth & Spring Press, 2012)

Maybe the grandest thing about this compendium of designs that have appeared previously in Vogue Knitting magazine, is its educational value. If a knitter were to make each one of the fifty (50!) hat patterns here, s/he would come away with a very full knowledge of knitting technique and knitting propriety, by which I mean that the designs are perfectly suited to the kinds of yarn required. (For example, one would not be advised to make the Double-Knit Hat designed by Elli Stubenrauch in a yarn heavier or less elastic than the fingering-weight called for, as that would most likely doom it to failure.)

One side of the Double-Knit Hat, designed by Elli Stubenrauch.

So, if you followed the directions as written, you'd practice (and perhaps learn for the first time) double knitting (i.e. reversible!) and intarsia. And you'd come away with a clever and useful little cap. Though I'm generally not a big fan of pictorial knitting, I must admit that I find this design, called "bird on a wire," very adorable.

The other side.

The designs are prefaced by short sections on the history of hats, anatomy of hats, and types--the latter offers useful images of basic hat shapes--and there's a mercifully brief boilerplate discussion of basic techniques. (At least there is no seemingly-obligatory section on "how to knit," which most knitting books, no matter how advanced, compulsively repeat.) The patterns themselves reflect a range of designers, from well-known (Deborah Newton, Pam Allen, Norah Gaughan) to up-and-coming (Jacqueline van Dillen, Mari Tobita, Anna Al). The fifty designs as a whole reflect the delightful way that modern knitting incorporates the textile heritage of Europe, Asia, and the Americas through technique, motif, color, and style. 

Does it have any limitations at all? Yes--these are designs intended for women, though some, like the chullos, trapper, beanie-style, and aviator hats could easily be adapted to fit those of the male persuasion. But apart from that, it really is, as the title claims, an ultimate compendium. Great photography, clear layout, instructions, charts, and timeless designs--it's really one of the best knitting books I've found, and the list price of $24.95 (obviously even less if you buy through a discounter) is quite modest considering what's included.

Isn't this pilbox by Mari Tobita elegant? And just think what a good cabler you'd be if you knitted it!

Fumbling around in the dark

yesterday evening, at the Hook and Needle Guild of Slater Mill in Pawtucket, Rhode Island, I was thrilled to meet knitting goddesses Amanda Keep and Norah Gaughan, who staged a trunk show for their employer, Berroco. They brought along a good selection of sweaters, which popped out of the darkness of the poorly-lighted rooms (a color-killing combination of extreme glare and extreme shadow) like what?   Christmas decorations?  Fireworks? Bright jewels?  Or something else entirely clichéd....

Amanda!

Norah!

How interesting it was to see the knitting up close, as well as to talk to these friendly and massively-talented gals.  Amanda's designs are updated classics (she told me she really loves to design accessories), and Norah's are always completely original.  She has a way of seeing form and possibility in knitting that's unlike anyone else out there.  I've been a fan of her work ever since coming across Knitting Nature, almost exactly six years ago.

Après trunk show discussion.

One thing leads to another...

Perhaps you saw the Flavorwire piece by Emily Temple on The Twenty Most Beautiful Bookstores in the World that's been making Internet rounds. I forwarded it to the several folks I know who still buy actual books with actual money. One of them--a rising star in the world of standup comedy who happens also to be a blood relative--offered to take me to The Last Bookstore, a Los Angeles biblio-temple noted in the article, when I went west last week. Thus I found myself trolling its aisles on Thursday, the first of March.

The bibliophile-comedian browses.

Notice the floating quasi-sculptural panels in the background.  These are assembled from deconstructed books.

So, the appealing features of The Last Bookstore are its funky Atheneum-like furniture, the mosaic tile floor, the lofty, coffered ceiling, the decorative floating wall panels evoking ecclesiastical murals, and the stately columns. A cashier told me the building was, in a prior incarnation, a bank. That was obviously when banks were Temples of Mammon rather than drive-thru ATMs.

Oh, and all the books for sale at The Last Bookstore are used and quite reasonably priced.

Naturally, I checked out the Knitting section.  This is what I found:

Knit Knit:  Profiles and Projects from Knitting's New Wave, by Sabrina Gschwandtner (Stewart, Tabori & Chang, 2007).  (A signed copy, no less!) This is what I read on the plane as I returned to Rhode Island.

What you won't find in Knit Knit are conventional knitting patterns for clothing. You'll find patterns for a giant teddy bear knitted from fiberglass strips, for a large, loose sweater that's knitted into a wall, for a knitted banner that proclaims "I'm So Angry," and for "Mini-Sweater Earrings," to mention only several.

The wearable clothing featured is, to say the least, edgy, and even if you can't see yourself knitting up one of these patterns, they are all, from a design perspective, thought-provoking and inspirational. For me, the book is great not just because it links the featured patterns to their creators, some of whose names will be familiar to you (e.g. Norah Gaughan, Annie Modesitt). It's great because it shows you how designers who are truly original see and think about knitting. People who are artists--no matter what the medium--view life in a way that those who aren't cannot. By gathering and presenting these profiles and patterns, Knit Knit offers an exuberant discourse on creativity, original thinking, and what it means to be an artistic soul.

I hope there's a Knit Knit sequel forthcoming.