The Dangers of Knitting in Public

For most of my life as a fiber artist (oooh, I've given myself a title!) I've kept my obsession in the privacy of my own home. It was not an intentional or well thought out plan, but it made sense for several reasons. For one thing, I have no life and so I have nowhere to take my knitting in public. The places I did go, for example school or church, frowned upon anything but sitting and giving your total attention, so they were not knitting friendly. When I did go somewhere else, I was typically on the move a lot, and most of my projects were bulky and not suited to travel. This didn't bother me. I would sit in the evening and knit or crochet away and be perfectly happy.

Recently, however, I have taken my habit public. Maybe it's the current popularity of KIPing. Maybe I finally have more places to go (I know this is part of it. Kids do that to you.) so I'm in public long enough to knit. Maybe my projects have gotten smaller or my purses have gotten bigger. Or it could be all of the above. All I can tell you is I suddenly find myself sitting with a group of people with my needles in my hands quite often, almost daily. Most of the time I am the only knitter present. This has lead to my present annoyance: the public.

When one is knitting among others who do not knit (or pursue some other form of craft), one is likely to hear a variety of standard reactions. The first and most common is something along the lines of awe and wonder. You know, "Wow, you're so patient, I could never do that!", or "Oooh, can you teach me?" At which point I usually inform them that it is painfully simple and if they are interested I can teach them. This does not irritate me. It is a chance to educate, or at least impress. This response is acceptable.

The second most common response is the nostalgia bomb: "Oh, my wife/mother/aunt/sister/second cousin thrice removed used to do that!" This is a little higher on the irritation scale, since it usually means I get to listen to their life story or the relative in questions various health issues, but is still an acceptable response. I will nod politely and refrain from booting you into next week as long as you keep the graphic details to a bare minimum.

The third response, and the one which is most likely to make my blood boil, is the capitalism reflex. "Hey, that's cute, you should make a bunch and sell them!" My standard response is to politely inform the filthy troll that my knitting is a hobby, something I do to relax, and to sell my handcrafted items would make it WORK. There are those who just cannot let this answer be. I encountered one yesterday, and it was this person who drove me to this rant. She insisted I could make oodles of money by knitting for a year on something like socks or baby blankets, then holding a huge garage sale and selling my knitted items for $5 a blanket or $2 per pair of socks. I literally could not speak. I just stared at her like a trout for about a minute. I then very calmly informed her that the ball of yarn I was knitting into socks was a middle of the line brand, and retailed at about $20 per ball. It was her turn to gape. I then told her it usually took me about 30 cumulative hours of work to complete a basic pair of socks (no lace or cables, just plain vanilla socks), and even if I paid myself minimum wage I would have put around $150 in labor into them. And if we were being fair, I should be making over minimum wage as a skilled laborer. So her basic pair of socks that she would sell for $2 would net her a loss of nearly $200. (What? She deserved it for pushing!) This is why so many people try and fail to make a living from selling handicrafts. It can be done, but I personally don't want to turn my relaxing and fun hobby into a 60 hour a week job.

There is a fourth and much less common response to a person knitting in public. In fact, I have only encountered this once, and it has scarred me forever. This person saw my knitting, yanked it from my hands, waved it around (dropping several stitches in the process) and hollered to anyone nearby that SHE had been knitting forever and this was such nice work for a BEGINNER (I had been knitting for almost 2 years at this point, and the project in question was a lacey sock), then sat down and knitted several rows WRONG to show me how it was done before returning it to me. I was stunned into silence. I wanted to kick her in the shins, but I was too shocked to move. In the end I tucked my knitting into my bag, went home, and poured myself a stiff drink before ripping out the entire mess. I am a wuss. This will not likely happen to many people, but just in case be prepared. Carry sharp metal double points at all times to poke interloper with so you can run away with your yarn. I'll testify in your favor.

Honestly, there are very few dangers involved for the knitter in public. Most of the dangers are to the public. I swear, the next moron to try to convince me to sell my knitting at the swap meet is gonna meet the pointy end of my addis....