The proposal for what started out as a baby accessory set, but was finally published as the Tiny Teddy Hat in Knit Now #48, and modelled on possibly the most grumpy baby ever! He just knows he’s being humiliated… This is so cute, and so ridiculously easy to make, it could even be used to teach a beginner how to knit.
I do feel it’s a mother’s duty to put her offspring in silly hats and take pictures. I have a lovely slideshow that I’m planning to play as a backdrop to my hilarious speech at Dread Lord Chthulu’s wedding. That’ll teach him for kicking me to bits for nine months!
Very simple, bing bam boom. I probably wrote too much, but that for was two patterns. The sketch was, I feel, less helpful than the diagrams.
The rights should be back in September – just in time for Christmas knitting!
The proposal for the Shadow Pets set published in Knit Now #44.
Thai Shadow Puppets
The inspiration was mixed: Thai shadow theatre, a dress I had as a toddler, and a dull evening when I entertained myself by figuring out how much detail I could pack into a 1″ square. The high contrast is much more interesting to babies than the usual pastels, and helps to develop their vision. Neuroscientist moment: babies are born colour-blind, and only able to distinguish (blurry) high-contrast shapes. Colour vision develops through accidental firing of neurons associated with retinal cells (again, kinda accidentally) responding to colours in the environment. In theory, it may be possible to cause total colourblindness by preventing access to colours! What a horrible idea! (Shame on me for thinking it).
Then, moons later, Knit Now put out a call for a Designers’ Challenge – a time-limited mini-project with minimal instructions, using a small quantity of a specific yarn. I opted for JC Rennie Supersoft Lambswool, having discovered even more moons ago that 4-ply is great for knitting babywear: you can use an adult pattern in, say, Aran weight yarn to produce a wee version! NB: great fun, but not an exact science – always knit a gauge swatch (tension square).
You’ll note the inclusion of the ugly-botty back of the swatch. I thought this was important to show that there needn’t be any floats to snag on babies’ uncooperative fingers. The proposal called for a long string connecting the mitts, to be run through the sleeves – ah, the memories! However, the pattern ultimately did not feature this saviour of maternal sanity, opting for a closure instead. And the most adorable baby EVAR!
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.
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Pride and Prejudice and zombies, oh my!
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.
thornmaiden.com 
