Tag Archives: On My Mind

Make it Better: Keeping Warm After Sandy

I admit, for the past two weeks, I’ve been spending most of my free time reading Hurricane Sandy coverage. Absolutely everything the Times and the Atlantic have to say, and lots of pieces about the pervasive inequality laid bare by the hurricane, what people are doing to help one another, plus a good bit of let’s-process-how-we’re-feeling (which, well, maybe a little indulgent of me).

There’ve been plenty of opportunities to donate money (hey, thanks, Wells Fargo, for making it so easy! You asked me right at the ATM, point-blank, and how could I say no?), but I was so glad to read, this past weekend, that there’s a way to contribute knitted goods, too.

Brett Bara and Natalie Soud have come together to create:

I’m going to just lift some text real quick:

HOW TO HELP

MAKE IT. Simply knit, crochet or sew a warm garment or blanket–items most needed are hats, socks, gloves/mittens, scarves, sweaters, and blankets. Use one of the quick and easy free patterns we found below, or any pattern you like. If you’d like to include other small items to help the relief effort, feel free to donate another warm garment (new or gently used, please). We are hearing reports that general clothing is no longer needed, so please restrict your donations to warm winter items only.
SEND IT. Send your finished item to Natalie Soud, 310 West Broadway, New York, NY 10013 as soon as possible. We want to start distributing warm goods within a week or less, so stitch something quick and send it off! Our volunteers will deliver the items to various points in and around New York City. (Although we’ll start delivering immediately, we’ll be accepting donations for the near future, so free free to send projects whenever they’re complete.)
CRAFTALONG. Share what you’ve made and help spread the word! Please, please, please blog, Tweet, Facebook, Instagram, and Pin that you’re participating in the Sandy Craftalong as soon as you can (like today!) so that we can get as many hands stitching as possible. Then, when you finish your project, share what you’ve made by posting it on your own blog and on our Facebook page at facebook.com/sandycraftalong. Also remember to use the tags  #makeitbetter and #sandycraftalong

Here is the thing: I have not and do not ever enter the tricky world of knitting-for-charity, because, well, Pamela Wynne really has said it best in this encapsulation: Charity is always political, and it’s always about power. And, as a rule, I’m going to steer way way clear of that particular ball of wax. However, she goes on to say that charitable knitting & crafting do get some things right:

For one thing, charitable knitting has the potential to make the personal political, to create spaces not only for sharing, compassion, and cross-class solidarity, but also for critical consciousness and social support in a world where women’s lives are too often marked by violence, victimization, and isolation…We knit when we encounter the violence, poverty, and loss that are endemic to modern, white supremacist, heteropatriarchal, capitalist societies.

And, as Laurie Penny points out in the New Statesman and Sarah Jaffe notes in Jacobin, it’s entirely appropriate to link the “violence, poverty, and loss” out in the Rockaways to that which we’re accustomed to seeing only in the third world (and, since the “juddering crisis of capitalism” in 2008, we’re increasingly used to seeing at home):

Crisis is what people in the United States have been living with for at least four years. Active emergency, turning people out of their homes and into the cold, destroying lives. It’s not crass to compare a climate disaster to a juddering crisis of capitalism, because the two are connected, not least because those most responsible are also those most likely to be cosily tucked away in gated compounds shrugging their shoulders when the storm hits. Like the crash, Hurricane Sandy hit the poorest hardest, smashing through Staten Island and the Rockaways while the lights stayed on on the Upper East Side.

I’m really, really worried about how poor people in New York are doing in the cold (shoot, for that matter, I’m also worried about how Syrian refugees will do this winter), so, for Sandy, I’m going to cross that line–risk the intimate tangle of charitable knitting, gendered morality, and class privilege–in order to work some utterly practical and apotropaic magic. As Brett says in her post announcing the Craftalong:

If there’s anything knitters, crocheters and sewers are good at, it’s making warm things.

Amen to that!

I have an enormous pine chest full of knitwear, a good lot of it intended as Christmas gifts, and therefore never worn. I’m sending it all: gloves, scarves, hats, a sweater (or two), and socks. It’s a considerable-sized box, and I am so grateful for the chance to be able to send it–to know that they’ll be able to make the life of a faraway stranger a little bit warmer, a little bit more comfortable. You should consider doing the same.


On My Mind: Scandinavia

Maybe it’s just the deadly-hot weather of dried-up August, but I’ve been dreaming of a northern summer.

© 2008–2011 Nina Egli and Family Affairs

I’ve had my eye on the Swedish Summer dress since the Family Affairs Spring/Summer 2012 collection debuted back in March. For me, though, the really alluring part isn’t so much the dress as it is the description:

…you have been making blueberry jam all day in your summer cottage in the middle of the Swedish woods, it’s a full moon tonight and you are going for a skinny dip later…

I mean, of course you are.

photo © Hilda Grahnat

What’s more, the wonderfully talented photographer Hilda Grahnat just posted photos of her post-blueberry picking dip from a few weeks ago. It really is what a Swedish summer is made of!

Photo via Fantastic Frank

On the non-summer side of things, I’ve fallen pretty hard for the Pia Wallén Crux Blanket, which is unfortunately a) very expensive and b) now only available in cotton flannel (instead of WOOL, like God intended). At least I know I’m in very good company– and I feel like someone I know (I guess it’s Susan?) often says that the cross on the Swiss flag is the greatest piece of design that exists.

Anyway, I have it in mind to make a quilt version– I guess out of the different greys of old men’s suits, like the quilt that hangs in my parents’ downstairs hallway. It looks like Celine has already made a beautiful Crux Quilt– plus, hers features a grey ombré background– so I know it definitely can be done!

I don’t know if the next step is to go spend $50 on a pile of old suit jackets and start cutting squares, or if it’s to find a similar quilt pattern and modify it. If anyone knows anything about quilting, I’d appreciate hearing it.

It’s old news, I know, but this article from the New York Times about Minneapolis’ Bachelor Farmer also has me wishing I lived somewhere colder (or, at the very least, near a restaurant inspired by the New Nordic Cuisine). Just, listen to Noma’s Claus Meyer:

We have got Mosc ox, reindeer, juice turnip from the arctic area, king crab, slow growing Limefiord oysters, Greenlandic ice water flounder, grouse – the one bird in the world than in the most intimate way communicates the flavours of its territory, ancient local cow, pork and lamb varieties, more than 50 species of wild berries from the forests; broke berries, cloudberries, artic bramble, cowberries… Berries that have only been sampled and tasted by few people outside the Nordic region.
And, this, because it seems to be straight out of Babette’s Feast, and I thought that things in Denmark had maybe changed since Dinesen wrote:
The unambitious home market demand was mainly the result of a 300 year long evil partnership formed by ascetic doctors and puritan priest. In together they have led an antihedonistic crusade against the pleasure giving qualities of food and against sensuality as such. The idea of organizing beautiful meals with great food has been considered a sin. The philosophy they so successfully communicated was that if you just ate something of inferior taste and did it in a hurry instead of enjoying too much you would get a long healthy life and end up in heaven.
And, ugh, now I want this book, too.
As such, we planted a row of rutabagas– which word, you know, means root ram (ram, as in male sheep. No idea why that’s the word.) in Swedish– last Wednesday.

On My Mind: North Carolina

I’ve been stumbling over all sorts of things in the past few weeks that remind me of home.

This flag, naturally. Featured on the Design*Sponge house tour of the folks who run The Old Try (whose “Root, Hog, or Die” poster my sister found for me a while back. It’s one of my favorite phrases.), it’s the only displayed flag I’ve ever seen and liked.

Photo © Shaena Mallett

There’s a new ceramics studio, Haand, in rural Orange County. I grew up all over the ruralest parts of rural Orange, so, what I want to know is, where are they? What does the extra ‘a’ in ‘Haand’ do? How exciting is the following statement of purpose?

Haand’s mission is to create high quality, durable, sensual pieces for every day use. Our designs are informed by a deep love of the objects shown in science fiction movies as well as historic English and European porcelain. At Haand, we strive to create objects that would be equally at home with an antique Wedgwood collection or holding a cocktail while orbiting a distant moon.

Emphasis mine.

I wish I were friends with these guys. I want to start collecting their pieces, then have a cocktail while orbiting a distant moon.

Photo © Jamie Hopper

I was bowled over by Rhiannon‘s latest installment of These Faded Things, a column for the Oxford American about the intersection of fashion and fiction in the South. This editorial is inspired by A Long And Happy Life, which I read only a few weeks ago. Maybe it’s because I already had Rosacoke on my mind, but every bit of the styling and photography hit a perfectly sweet spot: the dusty roads, the shady swimming hole, the waiting around on sun-bleached cushions on the porch, wearing seersucker and patchwork calico, and waiting for the sun to go down.

I’m currently living through one, and this makes me me long to spend a summer in the South.

Photo © Jamie Hopper

Speaking of wishful thinking:

I’d never heard of Preservation North Carolina until one of my friends tweeted about it, but it’s now one of my favorite places daydream, too. The sheer democracy of clicking a link and scrolling through all the options is intoxicating, and I have thoughts like:

I could buy the house pictured for the price of a not-too-nice car! I could buy a house I’ve often admired in downtown Hillsborough, or a grande dame of Winston-Salem! A 50-acre farm! Or a fancy plantation! A house with a turret! A mill!