Barefoot Rooster posted this in January 2010.
I think I’ve probably mentioned before that every now and then I find a blog I like well enough that I go back and read it from the beginning. I did this with Jean Miles, and Franklin Habit, and Crochet with Raymond, and right now, I’m doing it with Barefoot Rooster.
There are all kinds of things I like about the Barefoot Rooster blog, but the main draw for me is seeing knitting and spinning integrated into someone’s life in a significant way. It makes me happy to see these things sustaining someone else like they sustain me. There’s a kind of camaraderie in it. And there are pictures. I love pictures.
In addition to the post above, a couple of nights ago, I came across a post where the Rooster is talking about selfies that show off her handknits. She says:
I feel sort of weird taking pictures of my outfits in the mirror, but these are the photos that I really like to see on other people’s blogs and on ravelry—how they actually wear the stuff they make. Sometimes seeing a handknit incorporated into someone else’s wardrobe convinces me that I could/would wear said handknit.
Hear, hear! I couldn’t agree more. I get the feeling weird part. But everybody loves pictures!
Then, yesterday, I was talking with my friend Spinfoolish and mentioned how much I love seeing the occasional pictures she posts on Facebook of her daily tea and knitting (her fabulous Mummy is British—tea is a thing). She seemed surprised and said something similar to what the Rooster had about feeling strange posting pictures.
Now, I must protest. I get it. But I protest! We seriously need to see more knitting in the world.
Even Science says so.*
How is it that in one day I came across the same sentiment from two knitters I deeply admire? I’ve decided to take it as a sign from the universe.
I already post a lot of knitting pics, and I intend to keep right on doing that. But I had another thought. What if, in the spirit of Barefoot Rooster, I were to post more pics of myself wearing my handknits? Aaaand what if I were to appeal to my knitting friends to send me pictures of themselves wearing their handknits? (If you’re reading this, you KNOW I’m talking to you. Are you excited? I’m excited!)
What I have in mind are not the professional looking shots where all the pieces are arranged for a particular effect. I like those too, but as knitters we’re at least adequately represented in that department. I want real people—you and me and our friends—walking the walk and wearing our handknits in the course of our real lives in our real spaces, carrying out what we all know and that Barefoot Rooster’s Midnight’s Children quote expresses so beautifully:
Reality can have metaphorical content; that does not make it any less real.
Knitting and wearing handknits are about much more than sticks and string and avoiding public nudity. We knitters know this, but we’re often shy about saying it and acting on it. I want to show handknits in action here on this blog as part of celebrating all the things that knitting is.
If you’re reading this, please consider it my personal appeal: send me pictures of yourself dressed for your daily routine in your handknits. I’ll post them. And we can all take heart from seeing knitting doing its literal and metaphorical thing to keep us warm.
Believe it or not, I can’t find a single candid photo of myself in something I’ve knit that doesn’t also show someone else (I try to be careful about that). I’m on a mission, though. So stay tuned.
In the meantime, here’s the Shetland I’ve been spinning—soaked, dried, and ready to go!
*”Mirror neurons are one of the most important discoveries in the last decade of neuroscience. These are a variety of visuospatial neurons. . . . Essentially, mirror neurons respond to actions that we observe in others. The interesting part is that mirror neurons fire in the same way when we actually recreate that action ourselves.” — “Mirror neurons: Enigma of the metaphysical modular brain,” by Sourya Acharya and Samarth Shukla, in the Journal of Natural Science, Biology and Medicine