The enduring Art of Unfortunate knitting

It’s winter. There are many hazards that the cold weather brings to the fore: Colds, Chill blains, ice frosted car windows, people who can’t drive in the rain and farewell nostalgia tours by has been rock bands. None instills the sort of terror into relative hearts, than the manifestation of the dreaded “Unfortunate Knitting”.
Now is the time that people who should know better get out the needles and attempt to knit things (or worse crochet them. That way it has all the draw backs of Unfortunate Knitting but with holes that allow the arctic wind to blow through into your very soul).
Initially it’s a scarf. These shouldn’t be a cause of fear and dismay but you’re wrong. Either they are yards and yards of lumpy uneven rows, curling at the edges because they’ve forgotten to do a nice rib (see intractable blue curling neck warmer example below)

blog ukn1
Note Unfortunate scarves knitted by author. The pink/red one was rescued from a young relative who started the scarf and went from 20 stitches to 40 in the space of a few rows creating a sort of semi pocket. This had to be matched on the other side. Worse part was the compliments on the “interesting” pattern.

or it’s a professional and workman like piece made with $2 shop wool which feels like recycled baling twine and barbed wire against the skin and most likely some bilious colour that would make a punk rocker blanch and even hippies think twice.

It seems a sad indictment on their lack of faith in their ability to finish anything or produce anything of any standard that “Unfortunate” crafters never spend the money on really good soft wool. Even when by a fluke, they produce something of merit it’s so ugly to look at or wear that no one ever uses it.

Once the scarf is finished the temptation to do a matching beanie comes into play. DON’T GIVE INTO IT. Nothing good will come of it. I assure you (see self-explanatory example lying beneath)

bog uk2

There are many competent and crafty artistic knitters out there. This is not about them. But for the dilettante like me, nothing beats the expression on the younger relative’s faces when provided with a sample of your labour of love. It’s the dismay on their little faces that I Love. Maybe next week I can start on a knitted toy, but whether I can achieve anything like the main picture-left: (found in an op shop many years ago and promptly “lost” by my enterprising younger relatives as soon as my back was turned) will remain to be seen. “Wanna come with me to the $2 shop? I hear they are having a yarn sale. “

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