The invisible work

It’s funny how many things in life look effortless from the outside.

You see a finished sweater and think, oh, she knit a sweater.

But anyone who has ever knit one knows that the knitting itself is only part of the story.

Before you even cast on you:

• Choose yarn
• Choose a color (the hardest part)
• Swatch
• Think about size and fit
• Adjust where you need
• Study the pattern and make sure you actually understand what it's telling you to do

Once the knitting is finished, there’s the quiet work at the end.

• Blocking
• Seaming (even seamless garments have seams)
• Picking up stitches for a neckline or button band
• Weaving in the ends

Only then do you really have a sweater.

Of course, you don’t have to do all that.

You can simply knit the thing, bind it off, and hand it to whoever it happens to fit. Plenty of people do. And there’s nothing wrong with that if the goal is simply to make something fast.

But most of the knitters I know --and certainly you --want something more than that.

We want sweaters we’re proud to wear.

And that takes a little more care.

I was thinking about this today because I’ve spent most of the day working on the behind-the-scenes pieces of a few projects we have coming up: building the framework for the Confident Sweater System, writing the detailed itinerary for our South of France trip next year, and getting ready for my trip to Cologne to see the new yarns and designs for this fall.

From the outside, those things will simply appear.

But nothing happens without tons of preparation.

You’ve got to book the hotel or you don’t have a place to stay. I suppose you could end up in a hostel somewhere and call it an adventure, but that’s not exactly the experience we’re going for. Got to get the train timing down and the tickets bought, and on and on. So many little things to cover.

And choosing yarn for the shop, especially yarn that will become part of our own brand, is a little like knitting a sweater.

It’s a big investment, and I want to choose well.

It’s easy to make something that’s okay.

A sweater that’s just fine.
A trip that’s not bad.
A course that’s good enough.

But making something truly great? Well, that takes a little more effort, doesn’t it?

You know, once you’ve experienced the difference between good enough and great, it’s hard to go back. Fortunately, once you understand what you’re doing, you can relax and the process begins to feel calm and natural. Not easy, because that would be boring, but just challenging enough --and that’s kind of the whole goal, isn’t it?

Does your knitting feel like that? Tell me in the comments.

Warmly,
Ellen