Wednesday, October 12, 2005
So, I have started a new knitting project and I am very exited about it. It is a scarf – I’m a talented knitter. I am using a simple basket stitch and it’s going well. The old ladies I grew up with would be very proud. Well, I guess they would be, but I can only speculate as most of them are dead now. I was taught to knit as a child and it didn’t take. I just didn’t have the attention span long enough to create anything more than a tube dress for my Barbie.
The knitting store I go to on Notre Dame is close to my apartment and a couple doors down from a breakfast place I really like. Run by a middle-aged couple the store is frequented by those of us who have turned to the needle arts recently and those of us who are veterans of the hook.
Debbie Stroller, the editor of Bust Magazine published “Stitch n’ Bitch” about two years ago. The book sold well and directed hipster attention to the world of knitting. It may well have done great things for the knitting industry because it seems that chicks 25 – 40 have all taken to the needle and I’m not talking about heroin.
Perhaps the hipster attention is frowned on by dyed in the wool knitters because I have never experienced attitude from those in the service industry as I have at some knit shops. My current knit store excluded, the attitude is shocking. I’d say the worst offenders are the staff at Romney Wools in Toronto. I have been to that store a number of times and they never disappoint. The quality and quantity of wool is amazing, to be sure, but you need a thick skin. Generally, they either speak to me like I’m an idiot or act like the last thing they want to do is answer some moronic question about wool. And God forbid you get in there 10 minutes to closing. You get told as soon as you walk through the door, even if all you want is a set of size 6 needles. I get sized up in a second. I guess most women my age don’t look like knitters (unless we wear saucy librarian glasses and long brown wool pleated skirts). I don’t even look like a hipster. Still, I think they hate me. Anyway, the joke is on you, Romney bitches. I’ll never darken your doorstep again. Knitting stuck this time but another store will be taking my money cause I’m tired of your attitude.
Also, I live in Montreal now, so I simply can’t get the store.