N. Knit

(A note to reader Stepahnie first, if she's still out there- I realize now, in your comment when you wrote "BTW, what is that yarn you're using on the DPNs?!" you were asking about the yarn on the DPNs. Not the Magic Loops. The DPN yarn is Cherry Tree Hill, in Fall Foliage, and is 400 some odd yards of 100% superwash merino and was fabulous knitting. If you want to see them finished check this post.)

Had an odd, but delightful reinforcement of all I have learned since I first took up the needles in April.

My J. Crew catalogue arrived in the mail a few days ago and last night I sat down and flipped through it. I'm a huge fan of the long-haired, six feet tall waifs, the grinning men with just the right amount of facial stubble, the well-groomed golden retrievers, and the well-behaved, adorable children. I find the images relaxing and I love how they can be anywhere, at any time. Now we're playing pool at grandma and grandpa's estate. Now we're on our private yacht, sailing the Mediterranean. Now we're all running through a meadow and laughing without care. Ha! Ha!

I like to pretend that we have that life, instead of what is really happening: I'm sitting on the sofa in a pair of paisley, paint-stained pajama pants and a sweatshirt, sipping lukewarm tea, The Hubba is alternating between coverage of a football game on ESPN and the actual football game on FOX, two dogs are hurling themselves around the house locked in a death-grip of puppy sumo over their favorite toy frog, and somewhere, from the kitchen, comes the sound of another dog licking himself in a place we know will turn out to be inappropriate.

Still, I believe, if I have that chino skirt and sweater set and The Hubba has that blue sports coat and casually rumpled shirt, we will be THOSE people. I love my little fantasy and I prefer no one try to yank me out of it, thank you kindly. But last night I flipped open the catalogue spotted the Mutlistripe Dream Hat and heard the words: "I could make that." What? What was that? I looked around the room, but nothing looked out of place (dogs wrestling, dog licking himself, The Hubba was not home, the only difference in our usual scene). I kept flipping, I saw the Cashmere Cable Hat and again heard "I could do that." And the Pointelle Scarf. And the Snowflake Convertible Gloves (alright, I've not done these yet, but I could get it). I could do that, and that and that.

I had to set the catalogue down. J. Crew is my staple, my shopping go-to, in good weather and bad. If I could do what they sold in the catalogues then what use did I have for the store?

Luckily, I realized until I learn to sew (what? WHAT?), there would still be a reason for J. Crew pants, jackets, shirts, and shoes (whatever else happens, I will never be a cobbler). I need J. Crew. I need them for the dressing room clerks. We have a rapport. You see, I look GREAT in all their clothes. FANTASTIC, in fact. Allow me to set the scene.

I come out of the dressing room.
Clerk: You look GREAT in that.
Me: Really? Have you noticed this whole space between where the shirt ends and the pants begin?
Clerk: Oh, no. That tummy hanging over your pants- that is IN. Redneck chic, it's everywhere.
Me: Uh-huh. But what about the pants?
Clerk: FANTASTIC.
Me: Are you sure my butt doesn't look like the Titanic? In the scene where the ship splits in half and the back end's stuck up out the water? Does my butt look like that?
Clerk (smiling furiously, blinking rapidly): [pause]
Clerk: Are you kidding me? People LOVED that movie. That look is SO in. Those are GREAT on you.
Me (internally): This a trick. Do not buy into it. Do NOT buy it.
Me (out loud): I'll take it! And two of the Titanic pants!

See? Rapport.

Once I was reassured I could maintain this honest and open relationship, my confidence took a little turn upwards, knowing I could actually cobble together items that resembled those from the catalogue. Pretty quickly too. I had a brief Tom Hanks-Castaway style moment, only instead of jumping around a fire, I was jumping around my craft bag: Look at me! I make knitted garments! Ha!

Who knew a first garter-stitch dish cloth with a few gaping dropped stitches in a shocking neon blue-green cotton could lead to this kind of power?