My on-again, off-again love affair with the art of transforming yarn into something tangible began when I was in fourth or fifth grade. I’m not entirely sure who taught me the fundamentals of crochet, but from the very beginning, I was hooked. I remember begging my mom for some yarn and a crochet hook, and she relented.
My very first skein of yarn was a massive bundle of Red Heart acrylic bubblegum pink, and I set to work just as soon as it was in my clutches. Determined as I was to make something useful out of it (mostly Barbie clothes), my first efforts at crochet were disappointing, to say the least. I wanted so badly for Barbie to have her very own bubblegum pink mini-skirt, but lacking any crocheting skills beyond making a chain (I made up my own rules for crochet, with disastrous results), I ended up with very lopsided, uneven, and trapezoid-like creations. Since I was (and still am) such an impatient person, one would have thought that I would have given up right then and there. Perhaps it was my other trademark personality trait, stubbornness, that pressed me to continue to torture myself with yarn and hooks, but I kept trying.
My mother has never been a connoisseur of the domestic arts. She has never known how to sew, crochet, knit, embroider, or quilt. My maternal grandmother’s abilities (before arthritis in her hands effectively brought them to a halt) were limited to embroidering small things, like pillowcases. Literally no one else in my family (that I know of) has ever been the crafty sort, which has made my progress with needlecraft extremely frustrating and full of dead ends (and also unfinished projects and lopsided blocks of yarn). For reasons unknown, my mom had a Reader’s Digest book that is completely devoted to handicrafts like crochet and knitting, and I pored over it, determined that I would someday make an afghan, a vest (hey, this was the 1980’s and I think the book was made in the 1970’s), or at least a potholder that was the proper shape. Unfortunately, the directions for crocheting were vague, at best. The book seemed to assume that the reader at least knew something about crocheting, and wasn’t a complete newbie like I was. Frustrated as ever, I made a few more attempts at making something before giving up for a number of years. Still, after the frustrations of the previous attempts were long forgotten, I would always return to the needle and thread.
Once again, I made a concerted effort to learn crochet when I was trying to quit smoking about five years ago. Despite still not being able to make any sort of discernable shape, I found the repetition and the concentration required to be quite relaxing (and a very welcome distraction from thinking about how badly I wanted to smoke). The end result was a sage and forest green rectangle-esque block of acrylic yarn that resembled a doormat (and I used it as such for a time), but it still looked better than most of the projects I had attempted previously. I put away my yarn and needles when I started nursing school, as I didn’t really have the time to devote to such frivolities as crocheting.
More years passed, and I hadn’t even thought of crocheting until I was at a party of a friend who knits, and was in the company of several guests who also knit. I’ve always yearned to knit as well, so I went out and bought some yarn, knitting needles, and Stitch ‘N Bitch: The Knitter’s Handbook and Stitch ‘N Bitch Crochet: The Happy Hooker (both by Debbie Stoller). This was also just a few days after I had quit smoking again (for good this time, I swear!), so I was in dire need of something to keep my hands and mind busy (especially since I was quitting completely cold turkey, unlike the last time I quit). I was eager to learn knitting, but it never really clicked with me for some reason. Perhaps I was making it harder than it really should have been, but I grew frustrated very early on, and moved right onto the crochet book. I’m sure that knowing the bare-minimum basics of crochet probably helped my cause at least a little bit, but The Happy Hooker really cleared things up for me. Previously, I had no idea what exactly it was that I was doing wrong to make my projects turn out so pitifully. After reading the very simple instructions (that didn’t assume you were at least a novice at crochet), for the first time, I really got it. A light bulb turned on over my head, and then I really got to work.
My first completed project was the One Skein Scarf (the pattern can be found in The Happy Hooker) made of burnt-orange wool. Although the stitches are quite a bit looser than they’re supposed to be (thereby making the scarf approximately twice the length it’s supposed to be, but it also made it long enough to wrap around my ears and my neck several times), I wore it with pride over the winter months, and even got a few compliments on it at work (one thing I’ve noticed since I started crocheting again is that people are really impressed by others who can make or do things by hand). I made another One Skein Scarf for my mother-in-law for her birthday (which turned out much better than the one I made for myself), and I’m making another one for another gift (along with several other projects; much like everything else, I have to have at least 2 or 3 other projects going at one time). I’ve made a bag for myself (I just need to sew it together); I’m working on another handbag for myself (I know it sounds incredibly selfish to make so much stuff for myself, but I’m just testing things out that I plan to make for other people so I don’t gift someone a lopsided ugly mess of yarn), and I’ve already got plans to buy an Amigurumi book (patterns of cute little crocheted critters). I went from making lopsided, non-descript pieces of crap to making decent-looking finished projects, and I’m getting better and better with each one. I’m not a crocheting super-star just yet, but I’m well on my way, and that makes me even more excited to try to do new things with the needle and thread. Now, if I could just figure out knitting…
My very first skein of yarn was a massive bundle of Red Heart acrylic bubblegum pink, and I set to work just as soon as it was in my clutches. Determined as I was to make something useful out of it (mostly Barbie clothes), my first efforts at crochet were disappointing, to say the least. I wanted so badly for Barbie to have her very own bubblegum pink mini-skirt, but lacking any crocheting skills beyond making a chain (I made up my own rules for crochet, with disastrous results), I ended up with very lopsided, uneven, and trapezoid-like creations. Since I was (and still am) such an impatient person, one would have thought that I would have given up right then and there. Perhaps it was my other trademark personality trait, stubbornness, that pressed me to continue to torture myself with yarn and hooks, but I kept trying.
My mother has never been a connoisseur of the domestic arts. She has never known how to sew, crochet, knit, embroider, or quilt. My maternal grandmother’s abilities (before arthritis in her hands effectively brought them to a halt) were limited to embroidering small things, like pillowcases. Literally no one else in my family (that I know of) has ever been the crafty sort, which has made my progress with needlecraft extremely frustrating and full of dead ends (and also unfinished projects and lopsided blocks of yarn). For reasons unknown, my mom had a Reader’s Digest book that is completely devoted to handicrafts like crochet and knitting, and I pored over it, determined that I would someday make an afghan, a vest (hey, this was the 1980’s and I think the book was made in the 1970’s), or at least a potholder that was the proper shape. Unfortunately, the directions for crocheting were vague, at best. The book seemed to assume that the reader at least knew something about crocheting, and wasn’t a complete newbie like I was. Frustrated as ever, I made a few more attempts at making something before giving up for a number of years. Still, after the frustrations of the previous attempts were long forgotten, I would always return to the needle and thread.
Once again, I made a concerted effort to learn crochet when I was trying to quit smoking about five years ago. Despite still not being able to make any sort of discernable shape, I found the repetition and the concentration required to be quite relaxing (and a very welcome distraction from thinking about how badly I wanted to smoke). The end result was a sage and forest green rectangle-esque block of acrylic yarn that resembled a doormat (and I used it as such for a time), but it still looked better than most of the projects I had attempted previously. I put away my yarn and needles when I started nursing school, as I didn’t really have the time to devote to such frivolities as crocheting.
More years passed, and I hadn’t even thought of crocheting until I was at a party of a friend who knits, and was in the company of several guests who also knit. I’ve always yearned to knit as well, so I went out and bought some yarn, knitting needles, and Stitch ‘N Bitch: The Knitter’s Handbook and Stitch ‘N Bitch Crochet: The Happy Hooker (both by Debbie Stoller). This was also just a few days after I had quit smoking again (for good this time, I swear!), so I was in dire need of something to keep my hands and mind busy (especially since I was quitting completely cold turkey, unlike the last time I quit). I was eager to learn knitting, but it never really clicked with me for some reason. Perhaps I was making it harder than it really should have been, but I grew frustrated very early on, and moved right onto the crochet book. I’m sure that knowing the bare-minimum basics of crochet probably helped my cause at least a little bit, but The Happy Hooker really cleared things up for me. Previously, I had no idea what exactly it was that I was doing wrong to make my projects turn out so pitifully. After reading the very simple instructions (that didn’t assume you were at least a novice at crochet), for the first time, I really got it. A light bulb turned on over my head, and then I really got to work.
My first completed project was the One Skein Scarf (the pattern can be found in The Happy Hooker) made of burnt-orange wool. Although the stitches are quite a bit looser than they’re supposed to be (thereby making the scarf approximately twice the length it’s supposed to be, but it also made it long enough to wrap around my ears and my neck several times), I wore it with pride over the winter months, and even got a few compliments on it at work (one thing I’ve noticed since I started crocheting again is that people are really impressed by others who can make or do things by hand). I made another One Skein Scarf for my mother-in-law for her birthday (which turned out much better than the one I made for myself), and I’m making another one for another gift (along with several other projects; much like everything else, I have to have at least 2 or 3 other projects going at one time). I’ve made a bag for myself (I just need to sew it together); I’m working on another handbag for myself (I know it sounds incredibly selfish to make so much stuff for myself, but I’m just testing things out that I plan to make for other people so I don’t gift someone a lopsided ugly mess of yarn), and I’ve already got plans to buy an Amigurumi book (patterns of cute little crocheted critters). I went from making lopsided, non-descript pieces of crap to making decent-looking finished projects, and I’m getting better and better with each one. I’m not a crocheting super-star just yet, but I’m well on my way, and that makes me even more excited to try to do new things with the needle and thread. Now, if I could just figure out knitting…
Sigh. I wish I had time to crochet/knit again. It is a lot of fun. But you're inspiring me to try the Gryffindor scarf again :)
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