Hello Summer

I have now totally, and utterly, finished school. Done. Forever. I had my last exam yesterday, and them promptly shipped out to Hobbycraft to stock up of yarn (the next post may or may not be a yarn haul). I now have a few weeks of total and utter freedom, before I get a job and start working.
And I am so bored. It's been a day, and I've taken up two new hobbies, ordered a new video game, and finished two books. But I miss having an actual thing to work for. I don't function well without work. I'm a little like Sherlock Holmes in that manner. I need work to function. 
But two weeks off won't kill me. I can knit, and read, and roller skate, which I haven't done for months. There's prom to look forward to.
And now, I'm going to make a cup of tea, and go outside to watch the bats flying around, catching their dinner. 
These are the things I've learnt do do, recently.

Dressing For A Stereotype

So for my 18^th I went out with some of my lady friends, and my brother, so a gay club. We booked a hotel, and set up camp there a few hours before we went out so we could get ready. We did each other’s hair and makeup. We chose what we wanted to wear and got dressed. We did our nails. We drank wine. It was fun, and we looked lovely. Heels on. We were good to go. (My brother is excluded from this paragraph. And most of the post actually – I just thought I should get the context accurate.)

When we actually got the club, however, it became apparent within about thirty seconds that we had come in fancy dress as drag queens; compared to pretty much every other girl there. We were not gay club material; not for woman any way. We looked good, but we looked like straight girls. Which, I suppose, was totally fine for the rest of them. They’re all straight as knitting needles. Although not my knitting needles, they’re all old, knackered and bent. Which is a horrible reflection on my life.

I was unprepared for the gay club. I was not Dyke. I didn’t have the uniform. It was like I’d rocked up in fancy dress of the wrong sexuality. Although going back through the photos, I look like a rather fey Noel Fielding; not all queerness was lost.

From what I can gather, the Dyke Uniform isn’t all that hard to achieve; checked shirt and (ironically) boyfriend jeans. High tops or converse. No makeup, short nails, a lot of piercings and a leather jacket. Probably what you’d go to Tesco in, but with everything from All Saints.

It’s good to know that lesbians dress as a stereotype; it leaves less room for error. However, it is nigh on impossible to say which stereotype they’re aiming for; lesbian or Canadian.

It was a good night. Of course it was. We got this photograph out of it.

Disclaimer: At the end of this post I feel I should probably apologize so A) lesbians, B) drag queens and C) Canadians. 

My Bipolar Relationship With Knitting

I do not claim to be very good at knitting. I can do a decent amount of work, and I can do it kind of quickly - as long as I'm not doing anything too complex. But that doesn't mean I'm good at it. However, I do enjoy it. In the same way that a recovering crack addict enjoys a relapse. That's a horrifying, but shockingly good metaphor. 
I go through phases - two, to be precise. First, I won't really knit at all. I'll look despondently at the needles and yarn on my floor, and sign, and carry on my way. Maybe every now and then I'll have a bit of a guilt trip, pick them an old project, knit a couple of stitches, sigh again, and carry on my way. This is a very vague state. I'll feel annoyed at myself. I'll end up doing a lot of heavy breathing, and thinking you could be doing something so much more productive right now. The needles will gather dust, and my messages will build up on Ravelry, until people just assume I've died, and been eaten by my gazillion cats. Then'll I'll forget for another three months and go back to frolicking heavily on the internet. 
The second phase is rather akin to a very crafty grandmother finally being let out of prison and being allowed pointy objects again. I will seize those needles, rip away any former projects I had going, and start afresh. God forbid anyone tries to hug me for the next few weeks, as certain death becomes a threat with every pair of needles and yarn I have stashed in every bag and pocket. Suddenly, any and all money I have will be thrown into buying nicer yarn, and better needles, and books about how to knit jackets that I don't have anywhere near the skill level for. If I'm given a free thirty seconds I will have whipped my wool out and done as many stitches as I have time for. I ill knit in lessons, on the bus, in bed, and in the cinema (but only if the film's really boring). 
I'm all or nothing when it comes to knitting. I'm either clean, or high as a kite.
And I've learnt something, writing this post, something very important.
Trying to make drug analogies with knitting really doesn't work. 
Sorry. 

The Knitting And Stitching Show

So I decided to go with the textiles department on a school trip to Alexandra Palace on Thursday, to see the the Knitting and Stitching show, as hosted by Twisted Thread. And it was AWESOME.
We had to leave school at stupid o'clock, to get to London by 11am, and then we had four hours to go around the two rooms it was held in, and just look at GOODNESS.
The first room was exhibitions from students and professional artists and knitters, and there were things like knitted dinosaurs.

I know. You're welcome.

There was also actual arty stuff, by far my favorite of which was the 'Jabberwocky' exhibition by Sue Walton and Ann Small, which was honest-to-god incredible. It was like all my favorite things in one 3x6 meter space. Big dresses, bones, dead flowers, and tea pots. What more could a girl ask for? 

There's a bunch of rusty keys in the middle of a bone heart. I'm not sure that 'adorable' is the right word here, but it's the one I'm going to use.

It's in sepia because, hey, turns out that camera phones don't have the best quality.

This. I want it.

See the collar on that dress? Here's a close up:

Again with the camera phone/picture quality thing.

So what you got THERE, is rusty pins (like what would be in a proper Elizabethan collar), and tiny bones, fastened down with string, and red wax. And it's beautiful. 

My favorite actual article of clothing from the exhibition was defo this dress, by Deimante Meilune:

What you see here, is a knitted dress, and a knitted suit. I would probably get married, just for an excuse to wear that dress. Sod it, if I ever got my hands on that, I'd never take it off. I'd go to Tesco's in that. It's made entirely out the finest, knitted lace you could possibly imagine  including the layering at the bottom. Admittedly  there may be some minor problems with the whole holes/see through factors, but I'm pretty sure these can be overlooked. 

All pictures belonging to Ariane Dean, many thanks to Jojo for names, and to Mrs Manvel for sneaking me onto the list.

Some Things I do Like

I'm aware that I spend a lot of time on this blog having a bit of a moan( mostly about cardigans), and I'm really very sorry about that (but not really). So I thought I should mention some things I do like.

Parasols. They are the best Asian fashion accessory ever. In my opinion.

Adam Ant. It's quite a long time since he first toured, but yes, I still love his music, and I still love him, whatever he's been through.

Scones (pronounced to rhyme with bones). Shut up, I'm British.

My little dog. She's called Daisy. Naww.

Sherlock and John. Two of my favorite fictional character, portrayed here in book mark form, a present from HB.

Knitting. Here be my Black Widow yarn. Currently I'm working on an 80s style head band.

This seal. Aww.

A xx

Problems I have with clothes these days

I went shopping today, with one of my friends from school. It was pretty fun, I showed her around all of my favorite vintage shops, and comic book stores, and then we headed into the center of town to look at the high street shops. And I'm not gonna lie - they baffle me.
I'm not sure when the happy medium with clothes stopped existing, or maybe I just go in some odd shops, but I'm pretty sure  that clothes come in two styles these days; tiny and missing chunks of fabric, or built like military tents.
Like, jumpers, for a start. I liked the old days of jumpers, when you could look pretty AND be warm, instead of being swamped in some Grand-dad style, knitted affair. Then dresses are the exact opposite. I remember the days when a dress covered ALL of your back, and WASN'T see through if it did.
I think I might just be old.
I blame the hipsters.
A xx

Knitting Bag

What, I'd forgotten about knitting? Think again! While in St Ives, Mum and I found a Cath Kidson shop. So, one thing that you should know, is that I kind of maybe a bit hate Cath Kidson , for the sole reason that Parent D is obsessed with all of her stuff. Which is, y'know, really freakin annoying. It's fine to just have one or two pieces of a designers work and be cool about it, but like my brother said, "There are some people who just ruin it for everyone. By being obsessed." (I think he may have been hinting at me at that point. I quickly shoved my comic books back in my handbag.)
But then I saw this, and fell in love.

It's just so pretty! I proper vintage-style knitting bag, long enough to keep some big needles in, and wide enough to store yarn for at least one project, if not two. I love how it's like a handbag; I'd happily have a gander around Manchester with it swinging from my arm. Here it is in action, in a massive traffic jam on the motor way.

Speaking of, some people got barbecues out in that traffic jam. On the motor way. WHAT? I get that sometimes, when stuck in a really long traffic jam, some people get out of their cars to stretch their legs, or have a wee, but I think cooking may be pushing it. I thought I was being silly with my knitting . But then I suppose that leads to the question; what else can you do in a traffic jam? There's an empty space, straight between the cars, about two meters wide, and I suppose, if one fancied it, you could do some cart wheels, or gallop a horse, or do rhythmic gymnastics. None of those are really very practical though, so maybe it would be best to stick to cooking. I suppose Jamie Oliver could probably do a pretty good job of it, because he has that knack of wandering into an unlikely place and finding a stove, table, ingredients and utensils just lying there, which is a skill I've never mastered. Bastard.

Axx

Help, There's A Gun In My Yarn Stash

I started writing a new fan fic, crossing over my current two fave things; knitting and The Avengers; Have a snippet and a link. A xx



“Barton... are you... knitting?”

The other agent flicked his head backwards to peer at her, upside down. “Problem Tash?”

“No, I just didn’t take you for the granny sort...”

He attempted to shrug, but upside down, it came out as more of a wiggle. “One of the acrobats taught me in the circus. It kept me from doing target practice with the clowns hats.” He grinned, and looked back to the bundle of thin black yarn and needles in his hands. “You should try it some time; you might make a cute little spider web, or a vodka cosy, or whatever.”


(X)

Ideal Knitting Conditions

You may have guessed by now; I like knitting. However, I like certain places and things when I knit. For example, my best knitting conditions are stood up, in my kitchen, alone, while it's dark and warm, with a load of music videos on my laptop I can sing along to/Radio 4. Also, I like knitting in school, with JW, sat having a bit of a gossip with the back ground noise of a hundred awkward teenagers. As always, I like to knit with a cup of tea. (Not actually knitting the tea, drinking the tea while knitting, you understand.)
Oddly enough, I can't knit on trains. No idea why.

The beginnings of CH's handwarmers.... and tea. As always.

Axx

What can I say, people love me!

I taught two people how to knit today! I've been reading a fan fiction about Captain America knitting, and his mum uses a rhyme to teach him, so I did the same thing, and it worked. Self five!
SH and CH both asked me to knit them some handwarmers, Loki ones for SH (Awesome, right) and just some warm, slouching-round-the-house type ones for CH. I finally have a use for my massive ball of glittery black yarn...
Things aren't very productive in school yet; due to the current few weeks being like a warm up period for next year.
Speech and drama was pretty fun, we went over a lot of pieces, for the concert, and possible exam pieces. Nearly got Bright Star learnt off by heart.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to knit, drink tea, and continue to be middle class.
A xx

18/06/2012

I went for another walk! Yay! (And my hay fever was so bad)
Went walking over the hills with mum after dinner, probably about two miles again. Knitted another hand warmer, my first Hawkeye one, then spent my even spamming Ravelry. Yay, yay, yay.
Spent my afternoon being bullied by Mrs W, for knitting in her lesson. I tried to convince her that it helps me concentrate, but she's having none of it. Mrs S has also started treating me like a new drama dept. pet. The headmaster came to watch our drama lesson, and he came in while I was the only student there, sat on ther floor knitting. Mrs S introduced me as 'the eager one'.

Black Widow handwarmers! Now totally finished :D

Close up of my finbonnaci Loki Scarf

17/06/2012

I was at Dads all day today, cause, y'know fathers day. Thus, unproductive. I slept until Dad woke me up, in an attempt to avoid the company of the household (mean), then we went out for lunch. It was unhealthy. I didn't care.
So anyways, I took the dog for a walk when we got home, which was lovely. She was behaved, which was weird. The weather was lovely, and there was a hell ton of plants, which is enjoyable. It was (roughly) two miles long, with a moody cocker spaniel. Not bad for a lazy Sunday afternoon.
Got home, was depressed, so I read a book from when I was small, then went to the park to go on the swings for an hour (weeeeeeeeee).
And now I've started knitting some new hand warmers :3
Hey, I could be doing a lot worse
A xx