I do. In fact, not only do I have a plan, I also have a backup plan, and a Plan B. And I set them in motion about 3 years ago*… Why, yes, dear reader, I am one of those deranged creatures who thinks the hardest part of the apocalypse will be trying to pretend I’m not excited!!!
So when Alex Tinsley of Dull Roar fame put out a call for submissions for Doomsday Knits, I knew I had to shoot something off. This was my book dammit! The one I had to get into! This was what all my crafting, all my reading and movie watching had been leading up to! But when the initial euphoria wore off, I realised I hadn’t a clue what to submit. Ack.
Obviously, I got there in the end, which is why I’m on this blog tour, writing a post on my personal apocalypse – in the dictionary sense of the word ‘apocalypse’, meaning revelation, discovery, vision of future events**. You see, I am not someone you want to take to the latest blockbuster sci-fi release: the last time that happened, I subjected my date to an hour-long disquisition on the accuracy of Kubrick’s and Clarke’s representation of HAL 9000, vis–à–vis current and projected technological advances, halted only by his sudden remembrance of another appointment***.
While I absorb sci-fi through my pores like a geeky sponge, I am simultaneously horrified and entertained by The Rongness of it all. For me to suspend disbelief, there must be a coherent internal logic. Technology that’s at least theoretically possible (George Lucas, I’m looking at you), a plausible political and historical backdrop (last warning, George), no life-forms based on an LSD-fuelled Lovecraftian version of evolution (George! go to your room!)… oh, and it’d nice if the end of the Universe as we know and love it wasn’t just an excuse to dress women in skimpy and/or impractical clothing (George! stop that at once – you’ll go blind!). Colour me dubious when Aunty Entity can move around in her chainmail frock without a forklift, or Alice apparently sprints from Evil Residents in a corset and thigh boots.
The Utility Corset, which appears in the Dystopian Dandies section of the book, is a garment to redress the undressed and under-dressed heroines of the future. Knit flat from the bottom up, it features increases, decreases and yarn-overs for shaping. If you’ve ever had to be assisted into a real whalebone corset, you’ll appreciate the convenience of the i-cord straps which tie the Utility Corset around the body. This resoundingly practical piece is complete with hanging loops and hidden pockets for holding your essential survival gear, leaving your arms free to deal bloody vengeance, merciful release or whoop-ass justice as the scenario requires, while the amazing weather-proof properties of Donegal Yarns’ Aran Tweed will keep you warm through the nuclear winter and beyond.
You can check out the Doomsday Knits patterns on Ravelry – a new one will be uploaded every day in
November DOOMvember – and you can pre-order the book there or at Cooperative Press. Of course if you’re reading this in December The Future, you can just buy it, no waiting around. Unless you get in a time machine and go back to DOOMvember, because then the last sentence would be a temporal paradox and Kathryn Janeway would kill me and my post would never have happened and you would have to buy the book on http://www.Amazon.deltaquadrant. Or something.
Tomorrow on DOOMvember, the hugely talented Alexandra Virgiel is up, with Bulletproof. I’ve been admiring her work since BR (Before Ravelry), so it’s a real honour for me to be included in the same publication!
And so, to bed. Sleep well, and keep a light on…
* – in the sense that I moved back to Ireland. As far as I know, we’re not on anyone’s nuclear hit-list. Oh, and there’s the half-acre I’m growing potatoes on. Emergency chickens are planned too, just as soon as I get a henhouse built. I have a cat I’m training to hunt food larger than itself (sorry, bunny family), and the dog who’ll protect me by jumping on people and, err, slobbering horribly…
** – The word you want for the end-times is Eschaton. Bazinga!
*** – I’ve never had much success with men. Go figure.
2 thoughts on “DOOM you have a plan?”
Japanese grandmothers say you have to keep your midsection warm (and modestly covered), so knit haramaki are quite the granny undergarment thing (although reportedly it has been more fashionable lately). My grandmother would have approved of this Utility Corset!
Irish grannies always warn you about getting a chill on your kidneys, if you wear anything that’s cropped! They don’t care about getting soaked in the rain (“a bit of water won’t kill you”), but the tummy area has to be kept warm at all costs…