The sad demise of my hand knitted Peruvian yarn jacket
As created and destroyed by my very own hands
I know few might say this but I actually enjoyed most of the pandemic lockdown because it was the longest break I’ve had from working. Luckily I was furloughed and I was with my family.
Prior to this I’d only taken a break from employment when my son was born 18 years previously with a somewhat short maternity leave.
Lockdown enabled me to be at home, with less responsibilities and obligations than I’d ever had in my adult life. I was grateful to step off the normal routine.
One of the things I enjoyed was re-connecting with creative crafts.
My mum taught me to knit when I was a child. I’m left handed and she was right handed so at first it was difficult for her to show me. Once I’d picked it up though there was no stopping me and I got busy knitting up blankets for my Sindy Horse.
Knitting is magic — one moment you’re holding two sticks and a ball of yarn, and the next you’re making your own creation. It’s like being a wizard.
If you can read a knitting pattern you are also a code breaker.
It’s not without its stresses, finding that one stitch you dropped, three rows down can be challenging. But if you’re careful you can retrieve it and that moment will bring you immense joy and relief.
I still feel a degree of shyness saying I’m a knitter. I know there is no reason to be because it’s not an old lady thing anymore. It is officially trending.
Gone are the days of boring knitting patterns and synthetic yarns.
You can buy patterns for bucket hats, clutch bags, storage baskets. Also don’t get me started on knitting tiny animals. That’s a whole separate story.
Knitting shops are a thing of the past in the UK anyway, but knitting kits are so now!! And they’re available online from fabulously beautiful websites full of many lovely things.
The kits are exciting things to receive. I cannot lie, knitting is an expensive hobby but the kits are so well put together so I justified it to myself that each finished item would be an investment piece.
Kits are shipped to your door in eco friendly, re-usable packaging, they’re sexy, they’re sleek and there’s nothing old lady about them at all.
To say I threw caution to the wind during lockdown is a bit of an understatement. I confess to spending the same amount on 3 kits as I spent on my first car in 1987.
In a kit you receive everything you need, even a crafted sew on label for your finished garment.
Knitting needles were traditionally made of steel, cold and unforgiving on busy knitting hands.
Today’s needles are made from bamboo and quite literally a pleasure to behold and they let you knit long into the evening as they’re so comfortable to use.
The huge variety of ethically sourced and completely natural yarns is nothing short of giddy making.
The most expensive kit I bought in lockdown was one to make a wrap over style knitted jacket. It had a boxy shape and I knew, just knew, it would look lovely with a crisp white shirt and dark jeans.
The yarn I chose was spun from the fleeces of Alpacas.
When I took the yarn from the packaging I held a ball of it in the palm of my hand. It was so light I couldn’t believe it and so silky and soft. It had a delicate fluff that was like an aura. It was truly beautiful and I couldn’t wait to get started.
I paced myself as I knew it wasn’t going to take long to finish.
It was a simple construction, two sleeves, two sides and the back and a turn-back collar which was added when all the parts were sewn together.
When it was fully constructed it was still so silky, making it a pleasure just to hold. That quality is unique to Alpaca yarn.
Oh how I loved it. It was everything I hoped for. It loosely wrapped across and was secured with a large decorative safety pin, a bit like those used for Scottish kilts.
I even gave it it’s own padded hanger to protect it’s shape when I wasn’t wearing it.
The Demise
Reader, I washed it.
I can assure you I followed the care instructions to the letter, putting it on the delicate wool program on my washing machine.
When I pulled it out, my heart sank. The washing process had completely altered the composition of the fibers. What was once so familiar and comforting had become smaller, and stiff and much more like something made from actual fabric.
Had I been actually trying to create this effect and that’s a thing too apparently, I had NAILED it.
I felt a huge, overwhelming sense of regret wash over me, and a sense of loss for my beautiful silky hand knit.
I cried.
Now it was no longer the same. The comfort it gave me had slipped away through the machine drum.
I was devastated.
I turned to Google to see if there was any wisdom to help me return it to its former glory. With a sad heart I already knew it couldn’t be retrieved.
It has become a metaphor.
On reflection I didn’t think it through. It didn’t even really need washing if I’m honest and I later learnt that pure wool is self cleaning anyway. A fact read through tears. Learning that fact was like taking a bullet.
A little extra thought could have preserved what I loved but where haste had prevailed it turned immediately to fierce regret.
Some things can’t be undone.
I think often about buying the yarn and making it again. As yet, I haven’t given myself the extra push to do this.
Truth be told I can’t afford another one.
I don’t want a second attempt to perhaps not be as nice as the first. Every knit is individual.
It’s a reminder that small actions, like making a hasty decision can have lasting consequences.
At least I still have the photos.
I hear you ask what happened to it?
Well as it had shrunk it no longer fitted me in the way that it had before. Gone was its relaxed boxy fit which had attracted me to it in the first place. It was a different garment now.
I have a lovely (tiny) French friend Marie-Jose and I thought perhaps she may like it expecting that it would probably fit her.
I did confess to her what had happened. When she tried it on it fitted her perfectly. Actually, in its newer form it could have been made for her.
I told her it was hers and her face lit up. She said, it’ll look great with a crisp white shirt and dark jeans.
I stifled an inner sob.
So although I don’t have it any more, I was able to make my friend happy and that is a wonderful thing.
Have you inadvertently ruined something you loved? Tell me about, we can start a Support Group.
Thank you for reading.
