In honor of your birthday yesterday, I dug up this little memento:
This is a pullover from Nicki Epstein’s Knitting for Barbie book, which I made back when we had a Barbie or two around here. This was before my daughter decided that Barbie, in all her forms, especially the disturbing Life Size Barbie Beauty Salon Head, was to be banished from our land. (I add this to allay the concerns of those who interpreted my earlier reference to our Barbie-Free Zone as a sign of cruel and unusual parenting.)
The sweater is misshapen because (1) it’s in Rowan’s Linen Droop, which I did not split into plies, (2) since Barbie was sent Away, many a Beanie Baby has been squeezed into it, and (3) I didn’t do such a great job on it in the first place (hello! sleeve seams?). But, you know, we knit something, and we move on. We knit something else.
For example: what fun I had freestyling my own toy doggy sweater. I hasten to add that I had an actual day job when I made this thing. Call me a slacker, but I am not, as a general rule, sitting around designing fringed apparel (with handmade Dorset buttons, for crying out loud) for stuffed animals. This was a special commission, for Carrie’s beloved Sophie Jr. Sadly, Sophie Jr. disappeared several years ago, sans sweater. We move on. We knit something else.
Afghanalong note: The Barbie sweater is resting on a perfect 9-patch square contributed by Maggi, who has just posted photos of the historic hand-off on her blog. The pix include one of her darling dad, who regaled us with Amstel Lites (as you know, my preferred brand of Diet Knitting Water) in a swanky hotel bar. I love a man who can sit there smiling and making agreeable remarks while the womenfolk yak nonstop about knitting, baby girls, and what to knit for baby girls. It is pretty much a lost art, as far as I can tell.
I don’t mean to lord it over you, honey, but New York does enjoy a steady stream of wonderful knitting visitors.