A Stitch In Time Saves Nine (...If Only!)
March 12, 2007
Knitting has become quite a fad in recent years among the shabby-chic. It's not uncommon in any sufficiently artsy or bohemian area to see someone in a common space with a couple of needles flying about a scarf or booties. In my experience it is also a popular hobby at Smith College - spilling over even into the classrooms of very permissive Professors who are apparently not at all fazed by the rhythmic clicking of needles.

I know how to knit. I can't do it very well, mind you, but it's just enough for me to make my own scarves. When I'm mid-project I'll carry my knitting in my pack and shamelessly whip it out whenever I can, when at a friends' house or while at a café. It's a simple mindless, repetitive task that I can perform even while reading or watching TV. It had crossed my mind that it could be an icebreaker, that if I happened to see someone else knitting in the café I could approach them with conversation about our common hobby. However, recently there has been a guy coming in to my regular café who also knits with skill that surpasses my own, but does so in a fashion wherein he constantly gazes around the room to see if anyone is watching him. He makes it obvious that he's doing it merely as a ploy to attempt to attract the attention of women, to emphasize his sensitivity through handicrafts, and it comes off as a little sad. It struck me as I watched him that knitting may NOT be the best way to meet people. If anything, it's a tad creepy.