Knitwear Designer

To start the path of becoming a knitwear designer, I first had to quit knitting, totally walking away from it to understand that it was something I was passionate enough to keep growing, pursue, and be willing to fail at to create something beautiful. Sometimes personal growth requires surrendering your plan to find the plan you were called to follow.

These pieces were made two years apart and yet I think they fit seamlessly together even though they were not planned. None of my knitting pieces from 2023 onward were planned because I decided to quit knitting in 2021 and was feeling pretty lost and frustrated in 2022. Knitting became a place of competition with my mom, a comparison with more advanced knitters, and a direct competitor to my sewing process.

It took a while for me to see this skill as an art form instead of a distraction. An extension of fashion design, storytelling, and fiber art. These forms are symbiotic, yet the way I was approaching it created struggle in my mind and it wasn’t until I made peace with the process that I could see how this was a way to continue self-expression and design.

It took being willing to approach knitting the way I feel comfortable instead of the way others feel comfortable, like knitting on straight needles, and taking the scenic route in my knitting technique to learn and improve. I had to accept that my pieces were going to look different because my approach was different than how I was being taught. Because of my background in art and sewing, I think about garment creation as I would in sewing. Knitting is the opposite, instead of cutting shapes out of a whole, you are making the whole shape out of nothing, it’s a brain teaser. It was at least until I took time to think about it.

After I completed the scarf, I put my needles away, donated my excess yarn stash, and walked away. For a year, I didn’t want to knit. I wasn’t inspired, I wasn’t interested. But at that time, I was designing with fabric. I was tailoring and learning how to read patterns. That’s when it clicked. All of it clicked.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t figure out knitting, I needed a better approach! My brain needed time to process the knowledge that I was learning from sewing and knitting. My mind was figuring out what kind of story it wanted to tell. Making a collection in 2022 for my family and friends got the ball rolling in my mind. I realized it wouldn’t be that difficult to be a successful knitter, I just needed to be a knitwear designer and go that extra step to create my own pattern and my own plan. Knitting hadn’t clicked before because I was trying to be like other knitters, instead of experimenting and finding my own style.

Just like personal style, creative writing, and art, you have to find your thing! The process may not feel like progress and that is where falling in love with the process is such an important piece of the puzzle. I have a passion for designing clothing, I’ve had it my whole life, but I was divorcing clothing from knitwear because I was not pushing myself to make clothing. Once I got serious and dove into making an actual garment it transformed my perspective. They are the same just different approaches. One does not need to be a distraction from the other, they can work in sync. That’s when the light bulb went off in my mind – so can accessories. Layers are little things that make a piece pop. If I am going to go all in for design, then a symbiotic relationship between what I design with thread and what I design with yarn must play off of each other. This is how I realized being a knitwear designer was as much a part of me as being a fashion designer, a sewist, an artist, and a writer.

#47 – Goodbye February

This month has straight up stunk. It was a pinball of coming off those allergic reactions I mentioned in #45 – Allergy and Winter Winds, coming down with a cold or a cold, getting better, having an allergic reaction to my eyeshadow, getting another cold, discovering my body wash and loofah combo was giving me irritation, in the form of friction hives, and having to stop drinking camomille to get the hives to go away. I was stuck in this loop of discouragement and I definitely let it live in my mind leading to worry and feeling stuck, basically, like this gif when Kim and Ron switch bodies because of Drakken’s body-switching machine. It was one flip to another flop, nothing progressing, just stuck.

That is life, it kicks our butts, leaves us discouraged, and some days feel like a bunch of little things going wrong are going to give us death by a thousand paper cuts. But honestly, that’s part of the journey of existence. Life does not give us any guarantees that each day is going to be sunshine and rainbows, some days are like a tsunami, and other days are like tripping, repeatedly. I’m thankful that it was only a bunch of small little things breaking my focus, instead of one of those big things that shake us to our core. As a highly sensitive person, I can let the little things swirl around in my head until they are big, shakeable problems that tower over me. These little setbacks taught me something pretty important, I need people in my life. I crave it more than my introverted nature is willing to admit.

On those days, when I felt frustrated and down, lost in the worry of my own head, the thing that pulled me back to the light were people. They helped me remember that I wasn’t alone, but instead that I am loved and needed by others in return. There is purpose and worth in the person I am in being there for others in my life.

It was the small things, Kyle taking care of me when I was feeling really crumby, like asking if I had taken medicine or refilling my water bottle before I realized it was empty. Him doing the dishes, cooking dinner, and making me tea in the morning as I was super slow pulling myself out of bed. Those are huge when you are feeling sick and he is so patient with me. Or my neighbor, who texted me one morning because our Amazon packages got mixed up, remembering she is next door and always there if I need a friend. A phone conversation with a friend, talking about anything or nothing, but the connection of catching up after a while and spending time in that bubble together is such a refreshing reset. Having one of those low-maintenance friendships where she texts me out of the blue and we spend time catching up writing digital letters to each other until the conversation fades, knowing we’ll pick it back up later on. Admitting to my mom that I was scared because she was having complications from her surgery this past summer, saying the fear aloud and facing that I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. A quick chat with my stepdad, talking nonsense but having a blast doing it. My brother-in-law video calling me out of the blue to catch up as we both cook dinner.

Those little moments of community, pull me out of the funk I was in faster than I realized. We really need people. This modern life is lonely. If nothing else, from this month, I learned how dissatisfied I am with the digital barriers there are to the community and how I don’t want to settle anymore. Because people matter and we need them even if we get peopled out easily. Goodbye, February, my relentless gremlin and ironically, the frank teacher I needed.

Listening: Portrait of a Bunny

This was a sketch from memory, of my first bunny, Midnight. She was a great listener. A companion who liked quiet, just like me. I loved watching her ears move as she perceived the world around her. This was a quick sketch directly in chalk pastel with minimal blending.

Winter Light

A jolt of life. A bright, warm, hope!

Vast blue sky, a wash of cerulean lifts above my head.

All worries, fade. Care melts from my shoulders.

A hope for tomorrow! Truth breaks through the lies.

Darkness lasts for a moment but life springs forth

to sunshine’s embrace. A welcome friend.

You comfort my soul and invigorate my mind!

Welcome home, welcome back, bright, blue sky.

Dark Winter

Rosy, golden haze breaks through the greige. Dark, lifeless sky.

I miss the sun on my pale, blue eyes.

The sun on my face? A vampire’s disgrace!

Winter is finally getting to me.

The wind has whipped, into the ether

and clouds slip, like a blip, and slide away into gray nothing monotone before I can comprehend.

I dream of snow. I dream of the sun. The crunch of cool.

November rain, December shadows, January freeze, this nightmare will not end.

Skipping Stitches

Skipping stitches, a court of witches has taken my needle by storm.

Stretch knit slips. Stretch knit slips!?

Another scarred and tattered hem.

Gremlins in the machine? I think I’m going to steam!

From my face, the anger boiling in my heart…

Was this project doomed from the start?

Haiku & Breakfast Valentines

When my husband and I first met, I claimed I hated Valentine’s Day and to be honest, I think it was more annoyance at the emptiness of this day. Valentine’s Day as a commercial commodity sucks. The heart-shaped everything, the push to have the perfect romantic moment, the jewelry ads, the lace, and beyond, it’s a lot. It seems fake.

As a teenager and into college, I was hoping for that perfect K-drama boyfriend to sweep me off my feet. A Mr. Darcy moment with all the intensity of a look or a hand flex. I liked being single until this day, like everyone else, and let societal traditions determine my worth on this day. Which honestly was quite dumb because I had better examples than this.

Card on My Plate

As a kid, living with my grandparents, I knew every Valentine’s Day morning Papa would wake up before us all and put cards on each of our breakfast plates – one for Grandma, one for my Mom, and one for me. This was important for me to see, I realize now, with my Dad out of the picture, it was wonderful to see how pure this expression of love was. He wanted all of us to feel loved and appreciated, and no one left out. Because his actions were driven by affection, each one of us was special to him in different ways, and by including all of us it made the day about love, in the fullest sense.

The tradition continued even after we moved out on our own, and eventually, as our extended family grew to become a whole family tradition where Grandma and Papa put together little gift bags for every person – all 18 of us! These little heartfoil bags had homemade cookies, homemade fudge, chocolate-covered pretzels, etc. It was adorable, even as a moody teenager, this little goody bag brought me a smile. It reminded me that even though I felt like a weirdo on Feb 14 for not having a boyfriend, as soon as I stepped foot in their house, it didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point of this day. I was loved, just as I was, and was special.

Handmade Cards & Poetry

Elizabeth was wrong and Darcy was right, poetry is the food love. Especially if its origins are authentic and well-founded. Like my new tradition with my husband, a handmade card, and a bit of poetry. Now, I requested a handmade card when he asked me last year what I wanted for Valentine’s Day because he is an excellent handmade card maker. He has an intricate eye for stamping and paper crafting. What I didn’t expect but was pleasantly surprised by was his poem.

My husband doesn’t like to write poetry, I do. He has claimed he doesn’t understand it but he does, because he has a wonderful appreciation for song lyrics which to be honest are just another form of poetry.

Darcy: “I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love,”
Elizabeth: “Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away.”

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

So when he surprised me last year with an original poem in my card, it gave me butterflies because it was a brilliant series of verses, tailored to our inside jokes. Of course, I asked for a sequel this year! And did he deliver! For my birthday, he dipped his toes in with an original haiku inspired by a tradition to close episodes of a certain show we adore – James May: Our Man in Japan.

The haiku was incredible in my opinion, it perfectly captured the essence of a moment which I believe is what haiku is about. I’m not talented with haikus, the syllable work has never meshed with my creative process, but my husband’s eye for detail shined in this form. Inside this year’s handmade gem of a card were four haikus! He truly outdid himself and in such a heartwarming way this new tradition reminds me of those delightful little valentines we used to exchange in elementary school.

Be a Valentine of Four Loves

According to C.S. Lewis in his book The Four Loves, there are four distinct types of love to express – Storge, Philia, Eros, and Agape.

  • Storge is an empathy bond that originates from affection. The natural love, like between a parent and child.
  • Philia is the friend bond, it is a strong bond built on shared interests. This is the type of love expressed in friendship and between siblings.
  • Eros is romantic love, the sense of being in love compared to just being about sexual attraction and desire.
  • Agape is the expression of unconditional “God” love, also known as charity. It is a love that is steadfast and exists regardless of changing circumstances. It is selfless love.

When I first studied these in college, these four terms were not what I quite expected but they changed the way I see relationships, maturely and more healthily. Actually, learning about Philia helped me realize a crush I was stuck on wasn’t my love, he wasn’t even my friend, he was nothing. But a certain new guy, a new friend (my future husband) I already had philia with after a few months and eros was brewing.

What is my point in sharing this? Well, this day about love is quite narrow-minded in our culture, and my whole life I think the wiser people in my life have been trying to show me this. Now in my romantic relationship, I’m getting the opportunity to express many versions of the four loves. Ironic isn’t it?

This day of love should be more than just a day focused on eros, it has the foundation to build upon to be a day about extending agape love to others. What if this day was not about commercialism but supplying needs, filling the void of loneliness with random acts of kindness, and to the best of our ability expressing unconditional love to our friends and family? This could become a new favorite holiday for many of us!

#46 – Sewing Studio

One afternoon day, I hit a wall and found a solution in my workout room. You see I’d been sewing in the living room, not because I wasn’t provided the opportunity to have a sewing room, I think I was just being stubborn. Throughout 2023 though, I began to outgrow the living room setup, galavanting from the coffee and dining room tables. My projects were scattered across the first floor of our home. It was chaos. Fabric scraps, yarn fluffs, knitting needles, pins, computer, charger, sewing machine, sewing pedal, notebooks, paintbrushes, etc.

I hit a wall when I felt frustrated for the 1000th time that my sewing machine was bouncing against the circular antique table instead of being balanced on a proper sewing table. I then switched to cutting out a pattern on the coffee table, littered with life and projects, in this ineffective space I cut the wrong piece. In frustration, I realized this was a product of my own decision-making. It was time to level up and clean the workout room for a proper studio.

I think I had been thinking about this longer than I realized, because, after Christmas, I hung up my new bunny calendar and K-pop posters in the workout room, like a future studio. Even though I wasn’t planning the conversion to a studio, it all worked out seamlessly. I moved some things around, decluttered others, and brought the white folding table up from the coat closet. I brought my machine and sewing notions up, including my sewing treasure chest Kyle made me last year. With art supplies, notebooks, and my computer in toe, there was a magic that happened. It was perfect!

The only money I spent on the conversion were new curtains to keep the space warmer, than the repurposed sheets I had sewn into curtains. It’s the breathing room I need to create and the space from this work I need. Knowing I can step away from a project for the night, without having to clean up the items for dinner, is life-changing. I’m sleeping better.

I think since getting married and working from home, I missed that private space, like having my own room again. I can shut the door and escape into my own little world. That was one of my favorite things about life as a single person. It’s good to keep those things, after life changes. I love my life, but I like who I am more with this studio. I am a lot more patient.

My favorite part of this workspace is the natural lighting. It’s so bright and airy, that it lifts my spirits every time I walk into the space.

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