destroyer

as so many plaid-wearing, whiny emo-core i-am-jack's-left-nipple-and-profound-sense-of-douchery channelers before me, i felt like destroying something beautiful.

as of today, socks-a-plenty is no more. it has been appropriately laid to rest with a solemn nod of the head and a shot of whiskey.

new things are brewing, spewing and splattering all over your face at fluffandhustle.com.

kindly update your bookmarks, as we used to call them back in 1996, and never show yourself here again.

thank you, qapla', fuck yeah.

barney

having grown up in a time and culture where children's TV programming mainly consisted of DDR propaganda, extremely disturbing PSA's, and german detective cartoons where every episode contained at least one plotline involving strippers and/or boobs, it's probably not surprising that i never got to know barney.

sad face.

i would probably be a lot more pleasant to deal with, a lot less troubled with negative emotions, and a whole heck of a lot less burdening to others today, had i learned very early on that happiness is the only acceptable state of being, disagreeing is futile and disrespective, and your own needs are always infinitely less important than those of others.

again, sad face. but i did learn a lot about boobs.

either way, a while back i offered to make the boy a pair of socks for his birthday, because he has the soul of a pensioner and thus suffers from cold feet (and increasingly greying hair). i even went so far as to let him pick colours.

of all the colours in all the world, he picked barney's.

to be fair, i rejected his inital choice of the dr. seuss-esque combination of red and white, just because it was in my power to do so.

oh, what a girl wouldn't do for his love muffin.

zombies

i've been busy. lots of things happening around here. many of them good, some not so good.

things changing across the board.

despite all the insane and outrageous and preposterously rewarding life-changing choices i've made in the recent years, i'm really not very good with change at all.

change is something unknown and uncontrollable. it scares the living fuck out of me. change may open doors, but you know who else uses doors?

ZOMBIES.

i'm taking very slow and apprehensive steps towards a direction where there's nothing but intuition. i don't know what's going to happen. there's no precedent in my life for any of the things i'm doing now.

is the road going to be awesome and inspiring, or am i going to end up flatlining on the side of a highway somewhere? how do i know what to take with me, and what to dump along the way? how do i gauge what happiness is, or what it could be?

is this what being a grown-up is?

there's a sense of changing weather in my fat belly and there's just no way of knowing how good or bad it's going to be.

so i'm just kind of sitting here, knitting something, and breathing, and going, "okay, yeah, let's see how fast them zombies are. "

the big reveal

the secret is out. part of it, anyway.

i'm sorry it's not a box with an embarrassing spongebob photo inside. but it's pretty sweet anyway.

please give a standing ovation to my first published pattern. let me repeat that last bit. it's a pattern. which i designed. on my own. i'm awesome.

i give you nineteen twenty.

as of today it will be available for your purchasing pleasure on ravelry or the sweetgeorgia shop for a very reasonable price of $6.

it's a weird but oddly fascinating combination of a wrap, and a shrug, and a cardigan, and is modeled here by the ever-gracious jing, who makes everything look good, for which i hate her.

it's made with 2 skeins of sweetgeorgia merino silk fine, in a brand new fall colourway called mink (i know it's not fall yet, but we're thinking ahead, like newton, or vanilla ice). it comes in two sizes, both of which can accommodate a wide range of female anatomies. the pattern comes with instructions on how to customize the sizes too, to make it more or less drapey and to fit those oddly shaped bodies which are still (mostly) beautiful.

buy it, and make it, and wear it, and post all your praise in the comment section below. thank you.

sick

being sick is not fun.

in moments like these i find myself gazing longingly to the east, to the mildly socialist republic of finland, where you can be as sick as you can and miss as much work as you want, and the friendly government will always be there to cover your medical costs and reimburse you for the paychecks missed. they will patronize you, and belittle you, and humiliate you with endless red tape in the process, but at least your ability to pay rent and buy food is not compromised by the choice of some testicularly challenged dickwad to sneeze all over you in the skytrain.

but at least i have this.

it's a sock. the stripes me happy make.

stresslessness

i feel like i've just given birth.

today i've brought to conclusion an unprecedented, three-part project which i carried out with much determination and poise, despite all the dangers and uncertainty inherent in such projects.

as the boy would surely testify, upon agreeing to take on this adventure i was not fully aware of what a project of such magnitude entails, and granted, there were many a moments when faith was almost lost, and gods were almost denounced.

but with steady hands i gracefully steered my proverbial boat through gushing winds and every other nautical allegory until arriving at the safe harbour of calm and quiet and stresslessness. hopefully it will all soon translate to fame, riches and global awe.

it's all so very, very secretive.

oddly, being stress-free feels an awful lot like bronchitis.

smelly

there was a sheep, and the sheep was smelly.

the sheep ate grass and some other things too. sometimes the sheep slept and dreamt sheepy dreams.

then the sheep was sheared and turned into yarn, and the yarn was dyed and then some tool made a sweater out of it.

a sweater that smells like sheep and grass and other things and sleep.

carpino by carol feller

ravelry link

size modified 35"

sweetgeorgia bfl sock (224g / 3.5mm)

canada, fuck yeah

news have been received.

they were received through an unassuming e-mail on a groggy tuesday morning, upon receipt of which the undersigned went cold and limp and called mom and cried, as she so often does.

the ministry of jobs, tourism and skills training of the province of british columbia somehow found me and my unique set of skills and personage indeed worthy enough that they decided to not only support the continuation of this canadianic adventure of mine in the form of a new work permit, but also recommend my personage to the federal government for permanent residency.

IT'S SO FUNNY HOW THINGS HAPPEN.

IT REALLY REALLY IS.

stephen (the) king

while we are still waiting for news about my future, be they positive or negative or absolutely anything as long as they can be interpreted as news, i humbly point you all to the direction of the most fascinating interwebbery conversation this industry of ours has seen in a long time. possibly ever.

the comment section of stephen west's newest sweater pattern.

it's an exhilarating, passive-aggressive tug-of-war between the clockworkers and daybreakers, who have finally snapped under their grave frustration from witnessing their once-idol slip further and further away from their safe, conventional and practical design preferences, and the art hipsters, who would not actually wear anything that's not safe, conventional and practical but who in the name of civilization and open-minded liberalism appreciate the gesture anyway, or at least like to be associated with those who do - with, of course, the obligatory can't-we-all-just-get-along people crouching apologetically in between. it's the mother of all controversies, and everyone's invited!

i've never felt more alive.

go on. i'll be here eating my 10 dollar ice cream and enjoying the ride.

limbo

i have been quiet, because there is a revolting air of terror hovering over me.

for the past 12 weeks i have been waiting for a new work permit, the obtaining of which, or alternatively, the un-obtaining of which, determines whether i will stay permanently in canada and play with yarn for a living until, supposedly many happy years later, i die peacefully in my sleep - or move back home and come up with some kind of a plan B.

it's too much to bear.

my mind is going. i can feel it. i can feel it.

blue

speaking of line breaks...

...i made another one. a blue one. in six days. with fingerless mitts to match. i was in a rush, and in my usual rabid acid speed monkey mode. it does wonders for my project knitting, but less for what my friend, who recently spent a fortune and flew 15 hours only to see me knit non-stop for six days, calls social life.

that's as much of an apology as you'll ever get out of me, and you all know it.

but let it also be known, and visually observed, how pretty the set turned out to be. garter is my friend, my lover, my well-behaving woolly poodle bitch. garter makes the asymmetric short-rows drape gorgeously and the eyelets pop out just right. and the mitts, while completely brainless in construction (hence no pattern), hug your hands with all their squishiness and provide extra warmth thanks to the interlocking rows.

channa modeled. because she's pretty and photogenic. thanks, channa, for being pretty and photogenic, and putting up with my art direction. i curse because i care.

the set's already found its way to its new owner back in finland - a very special person who reached a rather respectable milestone recently and greeted this unexpected form of postal gifting with much joy and gratitude. normally i don't do much gift knitting, because i'm such a selfish tit, but this time the exception was both justified and rewarding.

we might have started something here, and it terrifies me.

miracle on 21st street

and it happened, that the boy and i took a little weekend getaway in san francisco recently. we saw the bridge, and rode the trolley, and climbed up and down the steepest hill ever known to man, because on top of that hill was where our hotel was.

it was all good and fun.

then, on day three, we headed to a funky bohemian district of the city for a photography session the boy had booked.

it was a sunny day, and a brutally cold day. i was wearing layers upon layers of woolly things, many of which i had purchased the day before, because not knowing anything about northern california weather i had only packed skimpy little tops and shorts teetering on the verge of vulgarity and general disapproval. topping everything i had my precious deep red line break shawl, and being thusly wrapped i walked up the street feeling happy and content.

somewhere along the way it got a bit warmer, though, and i took off the shawl and handed it to the boy so that i could take my sweater off, and again it was all good and fun.

we reached the photography studio and the boy was getting ready when i asked him for my shawl back.

his face went blank as he exclaimed, "i don't have it."

"what do you mean you don't have it?" i asked, with a profound sense of discomfort emerging from somewhere in my belly.

"i don't know where it is," he mustered as i began frantically looking through my bag, his bag and everything around us, not seeing the signature red colour anywhere.

"i must have dropped it on the street," he said, and before i could respond, he darted out the door and ran down the street where we came from.

fifteen minutes passed, with me standing there in the studio, explaining to the very busy photographer why the photographee wasn't there (because he lost something very dear to me), and why i couldn't call him to come back (because my archaic canadian phone doesn't work in the states). the photographer obviously wasn't happy with the situation, nor was i, so we stood there in an epically awkward silence.

finally he came back, sweaty and panting, his tail between his legs, and a terrified look on his face as if he was waiting for the fury of god's own thunder.

"i couldn't find it," he said.

"you are a terrible person," the photographed said.

i held back tears as they went to take the photos, and decided to walk up and down the street one more time. i looked under every car and every dumpster, and stared down every person walking past as if my imaginary x-ray vision could see into their bags and pockets and souls, telling me which one of these horrible, horrible people took something that didn't belong to them.

but i couldn't find it either.

so eventually i went back to the studio, where the boy had finished the session. i told him i couldn't find it, and he said he was really sorry, and tried to comfort me in every way he could. i tried to appear brave and indifferent, while in reality i was completely heartbroken.

"we'll go ask every store on the street if anyone found it and brought it in," he said as we walked out.

and that's exactly what he did - he went into every single store to ask for it, and in every single store they said no.

after three blocks and dozens of stores i stopped and started sobbing, because even with his noble attempts to make things better, the constant rejection just made me feel worse.

"i don't want to do this anymore", i said, my eyes so watery i couldn't see.

"i'm so sorry", the boy said and hugged me. "i know how much you loved that shawl."

so we kept walking, not really knowing what to do or where to go next.

then, at the corner of valencia and 21st, a homeless guy crossing the street had something red draped over his shoulder.

"THAT'S MY SHAWL," i yelped before my brain realized what was going on, and the boy darted after him with speed and determination i'd never seen before. i hobbled after them, crying with a newly found hope in my heart, and heard the boy plea for the shawl.

the homeless guy was stoned out of his mind, and seemed mildly terrified, possibly because he had just been grabbed by a tall bearded brown person who, true story, gets questioned every time at the airport because he looks like.. well, a terrorist.

"it's not mine," the guy managed to stutter, "my friend gave it to me." his voice was soft and confused, like michael jackson on sedatives. "but i can take you to him and you can ask him."

the boy hesitated, obviously recognizing that following a homeless person anywhere could be a terminally bad idea, but seeing me blabber made him go for it anyway.

so we went to another homeless person who had set up a little yard sale in the street corner, with stuff that people had "lost" and he had "found". he was a grey-haired elderly man, with a hawaiian shirt, no teeth and glasses so thick his eyes were completely distorted.

and again the boy pleaded: "that's my girlfriend's shawl and she made it herself and it means the world to her, is there anyway we can have it back?"

the man looked at me, and i looked at him, and all i could say was "please", over and over again.

finally he smiled, took the shawl from the younger guy, and handed it to me. "i can tell it's handmade and it's obviously really important to you, and i'm glad to return it to the rightful owner. i found it on the ground and was just going to sell it for five bucks or something."

i grabbed the red bundle and pressed it tightly against my chest, my first thought being THE YARN ITSELF IS WORTH 50 BUCKS ARE YOU COMPLETELY DEMENTED, and the second one being of such profound joy and gratitude that i literally lept and hugged him.

he was stinky and gross, but i didn't care.

the boy offered him money in return, but he refused. "i just want to do the right thing," he said.

and so we walked away, thanking him profusely, and still i sobbed, but now for a different reason. i held the shawl in my arms like it was a newborn baby that i was terrified of dropping and smashing his little skull.

through some divine intervention the next store we passed was princess animal, a lovely little shop that sells our yarns, and we went in, me still shaken and burying my swollen eyes into the sweet, sweet woolliness of the skeins hanging on the walls.

having heard the full tale of what just happened and discovering my employment relations the owner of the shop expressed some completely unexpected admiration and fangirl behaviour, and insisted on giving me a discount, which i fully and happily accepted, and grabbed three of the most luxurious skeins i could find.

upon finally reaching the register and reaching for my wallet the boy interrupted me and pushed my wallet back into my purse.

"i got this. you deserve it."

and i gleamed with joy as we walked out with 80 dollars worth of yarn in my bag, and had all kinds of fun the rest of the night.

afterwards i felt silly for getting so worked up over such a small deal. but i really do love that shawl.

and the boy's pretty sweet too.

manly

a certain special point in the course of things has recently been reached.

the point where it has become evident that one person is fairly interested in creating fluffy knitted things, sparking a second person to express a shy and modest interest in acquiring one of said fluffy knitted things.

a short exchange of thoughts was carried out, mostly consisting of the first person pondering within and out loud whether or not the relationship between the two persons has gone far enough to actually sit down and create a fluffy knitted thing for the second person, since history does offer evidence that doing so is a sign of some level of commitment to which not all second persons are prepared to take part in; and the second person saying, "sure, cool".

and so, a manly man cowl was born.

five by five cowl by felicia lo

ravelry link

malabrigo sock & sweetgeorgia tough love sock (90g each / 5mm)

it is custom-tailored to his color preferences and style, and without the mohair strand the pattern calls for, because while he does make his living in the film industry, and judging by his tea tastes is a bit of a girl, he lacks the edward d. wood jr. type obsession with dressing up in actual fluff.

the cowl was very easy to make and, had the first person not been distracted by the second person in many devilish ways, would have been finished in a matter of hours. but, as things were, it took a bit more. the result is very pretty, though, and well worth all the effort and pondering.

rumour has it that he actually wears it, too, which makes the first person happy, as well as a bit embarrassed that she keeps referring to him as "a bit of a girl".

artisticky

somewhere between everything that has and has not been going on recently, there was summer, and yarn, and a shawl.

quill by jared flood

ravelry link

size gigantic

BT loft (220g / 3.5mm)

also there was a deep and profound sense of discomfort at being photographed - despite the many, many unspeakably dirty favors the photographing party was willing to offer in return of a single frame where eyes weren't crossed, tongues weren't out and/or breasts weren't flashed.

what can i say. there is something utterly disturbing about posing in front of a machine that has the full capacity to capture your soul and put it in a jar and sell it to the gypsies, all the while being bent into weird shapes and attempting to look as if you were too cool to care.

still - what a lovely, therapeutic knit, and what a lovely heathered colour, which, incidentally, was personally approved for this particular project by the lovely jared flood himself at vogue knitting in april.

sizewise it turned out to be more of a blanket than a shawl though, and as such has found its place less as an everyday accessory and more as a priceless sit-on-me-and-fucking-die type of chair cover.

but for one day it got to go out and be pretty, and artisticky, and pretty, and indeed it was, and things were good, and souls remained intact, and afterwards there was a bit of boobage, and that was lovely too.

i made a pretty

loverly

by this time you should all be aware that when it comes to knitting, and reporting about knitting, i am not a here-and-now kind of a person. let's just say i'm very easily distracted.

so it shouldn't surprise you that i'm coming forth today with yet another FO that has been finished for ages. seven months sounds about right. although this time a lot of it really has to do with crappy cameras, which, i'm glad to tell you, have recently been replaced by awesome cameras. cameras capable of giving knitted things the vibrancy and depth they so thoroughly deserve.

lovely by melissa kwan

ravelry link

sweetgeorgia superwash dk (65g / 4mm)

it's a test knit for a cowl that was designed by my good friend, vigorous enabler, and cohort in all things yarn-related, melissa. she put the pattern together back in the winter and was brave enough to ask me to try it out (i say brave, because... well, all of the above). which i did, in two days, because i'm fast and awesome.

the cowl is the perfect one-skein project that doesn't take that much concentration, but won't bore you either. i used smaller needles, like i usually do, so the size came out a bit smaller than the pattern measurements. but since i like my cowls to be fairly close-fitting anyway, i can see how it could work even with fingering weight yarn. i can also appreciate the fact that the girly-girly heart motifs are balanced with rugged cables every now and then. i have my manliness to protect here, for god's sake.

so in short, it's a must-knit. go out and knit it, or else.*

in addition to all her yarn-related escapades, melissa periodically locks herself in a closet (literally - i've seen it) and sews project bags. she is too modest to believe it, but they are known throughout BC and beyond. so much so, in fact, that they don't even make it to her etsy shop before they're grabbed by knitters who notoriously hoard stuff and aren't afraid to use their elbows in the process (while being brain-burstingly, ever-smilingly passive-aggressive about it).

THESE ARE MINE SO BACK THE FUCK OFF, DEAR

but it just so happens that melissa is going to be a vendor at both fibrations and knit city (her first live appearances!) so this is your chance to have a look in person and get your own. act fast though, before some greedy skank buys them all. i'll be the one who's armed with zombie machetes and a pair of wolverine claws. what's your plan, bitch?

*or else what? exactly. 

unbroken

for those not familiar with what's truly imporant in life, the lady in the previous post was bette davis in now voyager (1942) and the letter (1940).

notice how she's ugly when she's weaving, frumpy when she's crocheting, and completely smokin' hot when she's knitting.

the defence rests.

in other news, here's a shawl i made. the boy took the pictures. he made me look all girly and pretty (i'm wearing a dress, for god's sake) and afterwards we went back home and had hot perverted sex chocolate milk until dawn. as some consenting adults choose to do.

line break by veera

ravelry link

madelinetosh tosh merino light (160g / 3mm)

to be fair the shawl has been finished since april. but i can't keep up with all the stuff that happens anymore. there's just so little time, and so much chocolate milk to be had.

mysteriously, at the same time, i've had to cut down work hours as well as knitting hours, because my retarded body won't keep up either. i'm 28 and so, so broken. i have hip pains, joint pains, back pains, nerve pains, horrible eyesight, thinning hair and a general sense of an expiration date long since passed, notably manifested in the 13 different medications i've stooped down to taking daily.

but as god, bob and all other deities know, it takes a shitload more than that to break my spirit. in fact, i dare you, I DOUBLE DARE YOU, MOTHERFUCKER, TO SAY 'WHAT' ONE MORE--

yes. the shawl.

indeed it is.

even at the risk of sounding unacceptably exhilarated, it's a divinely perfect combination of yarn, texture, shape and colour that enamors me and positively sweeps me off my feet every time i wear it - and apparently others too (hi becca - no you can't have this one, make your own bloody shawl!). making it was pure bliss from start to finish and taking it off the needles literally hurt my insides and made a part of me die - much like childbirth (episiotomy, anyone?), and indeed this furry piece of red cloth is my baby, probably more so than any actual human being will ever be.

i wanted it to be a bit smaller than the original sample, so i used 3mm needles instead of the suggested 4's. the size turned out just right. it's big enough to wear as a wrap, but small enough to tie around the neck. the tighter gauge makes it a bit warmer too.

not that additional warmth has been necessary here lately. we are now officially at day 35 of the epic nonstop heat wave of 2013 (it hasn't rained in five weeks, and i can smell it). but hot weather makes for pretty pictures, and also melts some of the permafrost of my cold, icy heart.

the spiders get fucking huge though. where the hell is the DDT?

triple threat

hi mom

you made me. that was a fairly awesome thing to do.

i know i've been the retarded black sheep of the family sometimes. made you lose your shit and caused you lots of worries and heartache when you deserved none.

sorry about all that.

and now i'm 5000 miles away and haven't seen you in six months. life is good here, but not being able to hug you and say thank you and have farting contests with you sucks donkey balls.

i really really miss you.

back in the winter i saw this lovely merino-silk fibre at work that reminded me of you. i was only just learning to spin with a wheel, but fearlessly i sat down every night after work anyway for a month to spin a skein of yarn. my first full skein of yarn, in fact.

after ogling the finished 500-yard skein for a good week or so it seemed only fair that you should get the very first thing i've ever knit with my own handspun, and so i started knitting you a shawl. the pattern is the same 22.5 degrees one i used to make my own shawl for TNNA.

towards the end i managed to run out of yarn for the scalloped edging, so i dyed some more fibre at work. not being very smart i added soap to the dyestock, and the fibre got felted. but being very persistent i spun it anyway, even though every second felt like a good old prison-style ass ramming (as you know i'm quite fine being gross).

and this is how it turned out.

it's soft and shiny and lovely and for some reason it's perfectly stripey too -- i can't say that was intentional, since i just split the fibre into two bobbins and plied them without any colour planning whatsoever, but i'm willing to accept all of your oohs and aahs anyway.

i hope you like it. i love you and miss you and one day i'll be back and we'll have us some good stinky times again.

baffled

life is awesome.

that is all.