How we can defeat global capitalism by knitting socks

Right. Following my previous post about how much we spend on crafts, I have had further thoughts and now I have a Theory which is going to embrace all sorts of things from the marginalisation of the craftsperson to Heartless Global Capitalism, so I would go and make a nice cup of tea before you start. (Thank you so much to everyone who left interesting comments which made me think further, and especially to Rachel over at Growing Things and Making Things, who wrote a very interesting blog post referencing my blog post, which I agree with. So now I am going to write another blog post referencing her blog post, and thus the world turns).

Circle shrug. I did not have a shawl pin but never mind! I had a leaky biro!

This is my Theory About Knitting. Although many people have been knitting all the way through, I think it is fair to say that in internet and Meeja terms, knitting had a bit of a renaissance in the last 10 years or so, and I think part of the reinvention of knitting – and of craft in general – was people making an effort to show that crafts were not cheap embarrassing things, but that they could produce desirable, luxury products. Now, I agree: I am completely sold on this. I think handmade things are better, and I thought this when I had no time to make them myself, too. And if I was a process knitter producing beautiful complex lace/ colourwork/ entrelac socks and really enjoying every single yarnover, I can’t see any reason why I wouldn’t want to spend every bit of disposable income I had got on the yarn and the tools. I can’t see why I would want to economise, because it would be a treat purchase (assuming I had the money, obviously) – the yarn I liked would make the process much more enjoyable, and the enjoyable process and the luxury end product would be the whole point.

Shalom cardigan. It is very warm

However. As I have said before (and I hope they don’t take my Ravelry account away ;-) ), I’m not a process knitter. I’m not really a process anything. (although I like writing. I am a process writer. You can tell, I blog too much). And one of the things I would like to do is make things that are better and more economical (not necessarily cheaper up front, but more long-term economical) than things I could buy. At the moment, I feel like a lot of craft supplies are marketed to encourage people to make small luxury accessories, because I suspect most people can’t afford, on a regular basis, more than about 2-3 skeins of a lot of the yarns that are out there. 200m of something soft and handpainted for a cowl? Lots of lovely choice. But if you want to buy a job lot of affordable hardworking yarn to make a functional jumper to wear in the garden, you’re perhaps not quite so well catered for.

I cocked up the buttonholes a bit. But it's fine! I can force a button through!

Now, I think it is fair to say that the people who are making the small luxury accessories are making much more interesting things than Mr Gradgrind-type people like me would knit, but, for me, the joy of craft is in making things I would normally buy, not only in the art of it (I suspect this makes me unusual. Don’t hate me). So, if I can only afford enough yarn to make an Ipod cosy, however beautiful that Ipod cosy might be, that just depresses me. Because although having beautiful luxury Ipod cosies out there in the world is a wonderful thing, for me, I think only having (metaphorical) cosies (obviously except killer rabbit ones, which are both useful and wonderful), encourages the idea not that craft produces beautiful high-end things – which it does – but that it is something you do as an extra hobby, not something that could realistically replace the things you buy. And that marginalises it.

Right everyone, put down that alpaca laceweight and start knitting wonky garter stitch trivets like me. What? Do I hear dissent?

I don’t want to go back to the days where you had to walk about with your great big long double pointed needles in a leather sling knitting a jumper for your husband to wear down the mine while you were milking 50 cows (or whatever), but, look, I am sitting here knitting anyway, I would like to knit something that I find useful. Because, as I have bored on about before, I think being able to make things is very powerful. It stops us being sheeplike (ha!) consumers: it implicitly makes us informed critics of capitalism.

To me, it is a bit like cooking. Whenever I watch celebrity chefs on TV, there they are waving their truffle oil about and banging on about the importance of good quality ingredients, or going visiting people down country lanes who are producing honey from heritage bees and charging £10 a pot. Well, I agree that the world needs the £10 honey, and there are many reasons (political/ eco ones, too) why good-quality ingredients are better. However, the truth is that if you make a Victoria Sponge out of value flour, random jam you made from foraged hedgerow bits, and week-old butter from the corner shop, it will still taste nice, and it will taste much better than if you had bought one ready made from the supermarket. And I think sometimes celebrity chefs banging on about expensive ingredients – which most people can’t afford, or get regularly – means people are discouraged from using basic, cheap ingredients everyday, so cooking becomes a thing you do for special occasions rather than an everyday thing. But I have found the important thing in terms of taste, health, cheerfulness, everything (and I am conscious of the irony of this after the fondue post) is that you cook it yourself. Great when you can get excellent ingredients, and make an effort to get them by all means: but if all you can get/ afford is a tablespoon of lard and a floppy carrot from the local co-op, cook anyway. I feel the same about knitting/ crocheting.

So this is a manifesto for everyday knitting/ crocheting, making things we use. Not all the time, obviously, because I still want to knit a dalek and also I saw a Gargoyle on tatknitcat’s blog the other day and I might want to do him. But let us use our knitted items, sometimes make boring functional things, and wear the things we make, proudly. Let us get out there with our beautiful shawls and make non-knitters jealous. Let us knit socks which are a million times better than the ones you buy in a threepack (like condoms! And actually practically no more durable!) from Asda.

Good functional socks drying on the radiator. Now Elizabeth Taylor has sadly shuffled this mortal etc etc someone has to fly the flag for Glamour

Let us think about what we buy, and think if perhaps we want to make it instead, because making it instead is a radical act (although I agree we don’t want to do it all the time. I knit very slowly. Right hand thrower, hand off needle). I know this doesn’t help with the ‘yes but yarn is very expensive and that is actually the whole reason you are doing this blog post’ issue, so I am going to go away and think about what things I have knitted that are actually, truly cost-effective, and ways of making the whole thing financially manageable with a view to doing another post at a later date. In the meantime I shall go and weave in ends.