In which I discover I am Not Quite The Thing

So, had to share this one with you, especially after my previous post. As you know, I’m experimenting with different crafts/ arts and seeing where it takes me, and I was at my art class earlier (next week we’re doing reflections and I’ve got to take a reflective object. If anyone can think of anything interesting that I can get in my bag and which will save me taking in a spoon, I’m all ears).

(Middle one mine) - this is an appropriate pursuit for the middle classes (although I suspect mine was a bit bright)

I was chatting to a couple of other women in the class at break time. Now. Cambridge, as a place, is in many many ways very lovely: I meet lots of really nice, interesting people, there’s always lots to do, and it’s somehow a place that’s very open to new experiences and new ideas. And then, very occasionally, I meet people who are snobs *cough* Partner's ex-girlfriend *cough*. It doesn’t happen very often, but it does happen sometimes that it is made very clear to me that I am Not Quite The Thing. Since I am by now fairly sure that whatever The Thing is I am probably having more fun not being it, it just makes me laugh a bit but yes, had one this morning, whoosh.

Knitting this would not be an appropriate pursuit for the middle classes. I might just as well start watching The Only Way Is Essex, wait, oops

So, we were chatting about how long we had been painting, and I said, cheerfully, that I had only just started, but that I did some other creative stuff and it was quite a different experience; to which they said, what, and I started off on my litany of all the mad things I do. ‘I knit…’ And readers, I got no further. One of the women said ‘Knit?’ in a tone just like Lady Bracknell and the handbag (really, she did), and looked at me just as if I had marched in and announced a liking for polyamory and then mooned at her. ‘That’s right’ I said, cheerfully, because I am quite hard, also if anyone ever tries to outsnob me I have the killer blow: because, I can always say ‘and my partner is a medieval latinist of international repute’ and that is the kind of thing that works in Cambridge. ‘I knit’.

The woman visibly quailed, because clearly this is not something you should mention in the hallowed presence of Oils. I warmed to my subject, because, I do not take offence at people unless they actually insult me deliberately, as sometimes people are just a bit gauche. I didn’t have long to wait, though. ‘Yes’ I said, with a smile. ‘I knit very intricate lace designs [look. People. Allow me some poetic license, also, never put yourself down in front of people who are waiting to do it for you] and fairisle. It’s very interesting and creative’. ‘Well’ the woman said with a small horrified laugh. ‘Knitting is not something I would ever do’. ‘Really?’ I said, politely. ‘Normally people tell me about the lovely things their grandmothers used to knit’ (they do normally tell me that). ‘Well’ she said, as if I'd actually dissed her family. ‘Knitting isn’t something I or anyone I know would ever do’. ‘What a shame’ I said, politely. ‘Because knitting is so incredibly fashionable these days’ at which another woman backed me up that actually everyone these days was knitting. ‘Well’ the first woman said. ‘I don’t know about that. I wouldn’t care about… [tinkling laugh] fashion. I shall go and continue with my painting’.

O the silkiness of Natural Dye Studio Precious! But, this would be anathema to the Serious Artist. Having this yarn is worse than watching TOWIE. It is actually as bad as getting Vajazzled. It is directly morally equivalent

Readers, I am polluting that class with my shallow knowledge of craft (and fashion), and all I can say is, it is a good job I did not announce my intention of tie-dyeing a quilt panel this Friday, because, it may well have knocked that woman out, and who wants the moral dilemma of whether or not to have a go at CPR in a draughty church hall? I’m afraid I am going to continue with my class, though, because it’s a lovely atmosphere (no, it is), and the teacher’s great.

But, next week, I may be wearing my Jaali.