What Is It About These Things, Anyway?

That's what my friend Roz Stendahl wanted to know, and so I've been thinking. She asked it in a much more civilized manner, of course. I'm the only one who goes, "What's up with that obsession, anyway?") When Roz, who's one of the most brilliant people I know (and I know some pretty brilliant folks) asks me a question, it always makes my brain kick into high gear. If Roz is asking, I should be thinking.

What I'm talking about, of course, are these altered sweatshirt/cropped henly/shruggish sort of things with which I am still obsessed. Here's a recap.

This is the original one that I tried on in Anthropologie in Portland.

I came home and looked for a cotton sweatshirt for Really Cheap and couldn't find one and so used a t-shirt instead, making this one:

Then I think this one was next, once I actually found a sweatshirt:

Then this one, which is still my favorite:

Then this one:

This one:

And this one:

I added to this last one, finishing it this morning, because I could NOT deal with the monochromatic-ness of it. I hope to get photos of it and of the one I finished last night--I'll try to get those today. I'm starting another one, and I have the tops (thrifted, most for less than $2 each) for maybe half a dozen more. I'm thinking that, by the time I finish those, perhaps I'll be done with this current obsession. But I really don't know. I never know. Just one day they won't be exciting any more, and then I'll quit. Probably because something else will have grabbed me--we're going to the International Quilt Festival in Houston this weekend, and that may well be the end of these--I always find something there that sparks ideas for something I want to do. Guess I'd better hurry and get some of these done before then, huh?

I'm happy to be sharing it, though--that's just the best. Here's Jeanie Thorn wearing the one she made.

Isn't that cool? She's got a whole whack of shirts lined up to alter, as well. She sent some photo inspiration that sparked the idea for the one I finished last night--cool photos of asymmetrical front openings on sweaters and tops. I am *not* going to show those, however, because I have no idea where they came from and I am not about to be whinged at about other people's photos. If The EGE didn't take it or someone didn't send it to me to use, I'm not using it. We'll all just have to use our imaginations.


Anyway, here's the fabulous Jeanie and her groovy top [and OK, people: we need a name for these things, please!]

I love that she put an applique on the back. That inspires me.

See how cool this is? You do something and show it, and it inspires someone else. They do something and show you, and they've done it differently, and that inspires you. You riff on what they did, and they riff on you. It's a marvelous thing, and it makes me very happy--it's what I've been craving forever in a community, and now we have one. Jeanie lives in Phoenix, so it's not like she's next door, and other people are all over the globe--Zom is in Australia. But it doesn't matter, because we can still do Show & Tell, and we can still sit around stitching together. Virtually speaking.

So back to Roz's question about what it is about these tops that intrigues me. She asked about the shape--why this shape? She asks, "Are they warm, yet cool, confining yet open, just plain fun?" I think my answer is: Yes! They are!


I like the shape because it's not symmetrical. I fell in love with that asymmetrical hem on Bryn Walker tops and dresses and coats the first time I saw it. As someone who's just the tiniest bit anal-retentive and OCD-ish, I have battled forEVER against my tendency to make every. last. thing. completely symmetrical. When we used to decorate Christmas packages, we'd use brown kraft paper and stick-on stars, and The EGE's would always look fabulously like a starry night sky. Mine would always look like a fabric print, with all the stars evenly spaced. I'd ask him to help me learn to be more random, which is exactly like asking someone to teach you to be more spontaneous. 


The actual shape, though, is at least partly about function. I am always cold. Always. If it's below 85 degrees, I'm chilly. When I get a little cold (I'm not talking bone-chilling, parka-needing, icicle-making cold; just chilliness), it's my upper arms and shoulders and my back. If you put on a big, fluffy sweatshirt, you'll be warm, but there's all that bulk, esp. in front if you're sitting down. It's not comfortable (all that wadded-up fabric) and it's not flattering (it looks like you've got luggage in your lap). So when I started playing with this idea, I thought about how I wanted my arms and shoulders and back covered but not my stomach. Plus I really like long bits on the sides, so I wanted those. 


And it's also about pushing an idea, seeing where it can go. What can I do with these and still have them be functional (keeping warm the parts of me that get cold)? I make one and wear it and think, "OK, that's cool, but what if I did this?" Part of the continuing fascination is seeing how far I can push the idea of altering something knitted. I started out with a knit t-shirt. Then I did a waffle-knit henly. Then a chunky sweater. The one I finished last night is an argyle (yeah, I know: ick) sweater, and it was the weirdest of all: chunks of brown yarn kept falling off). Because I roll the edges as I whipstitch them, I lick my fingers to get a grip on the knit, and now the tips of my forefinger and thumb are chapped. How dumb is that?


Maybe it's a challenge: can I make something way cooler than something I saw? And at Anthropologie, which has never inspired me but which seems to be A Big Deal for most women shoppers, for reasons that elude everyone in this house (when we come across one in our travels, I say to The EGE, "There's that store that all the women like," and he goes, "OK, but why?" and I go, "I have no clue.") I have never bought anything in there, and I have seen only a couple things that inspired me. This sweatshirt was one of them.

[Long break here while I go rummaging through the house and car.]

Well. Crap. I have just spent the last way-too-long looking for The Next One. It's a charcoal gray waffle-knit, already cut off (I think--you know how my memory is) and ready to go. I know I picked out the floss--pink and fuchsia, and it's with the shirt. But I can't find the shirt anywhere. I even went out and looked in The Boat (aka, Merlin, aka the SUV), thinking it might be in there. Alas. If it's not in The EGE's truck, I have no idea where it is. I was really looking forward to working on it--it's soft and broken in. I don't *think* I accidentally left it at Starbucks, and that's the only place I've stitched in a while. 


I hate it when I lose stuff. 


OK, I'm going: I feel all grouchy, and I'm sure you don't want to listen to me whinge.