Time: 8:25 am
Place: the tea-room
Incident: N came into the tea room with a new jumper on. Scoop neck, three chunky buttons over the breast bone area, swinging freely after that. Vague A-line shape. Heathery wool, brown and greens. Stitch pattern: moss stitch panels framing faux-cabled travelling stitches in lines of four, with and actual cable on either side of that – just a mini one, maybe four stitches or even two?
I say ‘wow. Nice jumper, N. Is it new?’
It is new. It is from Supre.
Seamus says ‘it kind of reminds me of te Arans from hoom’ (excuse the poor reproduction of his delicious accent. Just try and recreate it in your head)
I say ‘yeah, but that’s not cables, it’s travelling stitches.’
I hadn’t had my coffee, ok! My filters weren’t in place!
N proceeded to mock me for ‘having my little knitting club.’ This irritates me greatly. One time, P found out that I went to a knitting group and she asked ‘so… what do you do? Do you all knit one big rug, or something?’. In this really judgy weird voice. Humph. like she can talk. She’s taking conversational French!
Anyway, luckily I had my wrap cardi on, so I could prove that I was no lightweight. However, note to self: just because your workplace is one of the most accepting and lovely and diverse places on the planet, does not mean that being a 24 year old knitter is not weird for them.
Luckily there are one or two secret knitters. They are, I have to say, older women. But they are also the most elegant, well put together people in the whole fracking building. They wouldn’t blink and eye at a conversation about stitch patterns… maybe I’ll go find them now…