Thursday 25 April 2013

Knitting Fables

I've previously done a "knitting narratives post", for which I wrote fictional captions for various photos of knitting weirdness. It did quite well pageview count-wise, and so I have decided to start doing these knitting fable posts fairly regularly, say, twice a month. This may be my frustration over not getting to my novel-in-progress talking, and probably no one finds my captions as hilarious as I do, but I find them easy and a lot of fun to write. With knitwear this bizarre, the jokes write themselves.

Many of the pictures and captions below have already appeared on this blogs's Facebook page, but there are a couple of new ones. From now on I'll try to be sure that at least half the entries are new.





Chantal has always really gotten off on static cling: the flyaway hair, the crackly sounds, the slight electric charge, the feeling that her undies might be showing. She was sure she couldn't be the only person who felt that way, and her newest knitwear creation was designed to give the wearer that fresh-out-of-the-dryer, forgot-the-fabric-softener feeling.





Lola thought her knitted outfit needed just a little something more to jazz it up a bit, so she tied a legwarmer around her leg just above the knee. There, she thought, that was just what it wanted. Like her mother always said, a classic look does require a touch of the unexpected if it's not to look staid and boring.





Ginevra thought she'd come up with the perfect design for an après-ski outfit: a tensor bandage or cast from any ski injuries would fit right underneath, if she spilled a drink the mark would just blend in, and it complemented her husband's lederhosen.





Tarquin is a complicated man, and no one understands him but his knitwear designer, Bikram yoga instructor, and shadow puppet coach.





Dr. Void was proud of the way her knitting project had turned out. She'd made a sweater that looked polished and professional and that could double as a Rorschach inkblot test for her patients in her psychiatry practice.





Whenever one of the kids woke up crying in the night, Grace always put on her special face mask and Fred quickly donned his Insane Gopher Man costume before they went to their child's room. As they told their friends at Curling Club, one of the parenting how-to books they'd read had said that they could help their children lose their fear of nightmares by making reality even more terrifying.





Yvonne had hoped her new dress would do double duty for her position as High Priestess of Loki and for her job as a claims adjuster, but then the Bishop of her diocese told her The Book of Loki forbid the use of hot pink in ceremonial robes for any priestess above the rank of Semi-Exalted. These weekend role playing games could certainly get exacting but then, as Yvonne reminded herself, that was what she liked about them.





Morticia hoped her new spring dress wasn't too young or bright or pretty for her. Gomez had been enthralled and Thing had given her a thumb up, so she decided it would do.





Per her therapist's instructions, Suzette dutifully swathed herself in fabric from her mother's sewing room and afghans from the rec room couch, sat in the woods behind her family's house, and said to herself, "I am a princess. I am a princess. I am a princess," for two hours every day. But after two weeks, when her self-esteem didn't seem to be improving, she began to think her therapist was full of it. Maybe, Suzette thought, the way to feel better about herself was to dump her douchebag boyfriend, train to run a marathon, and begin working towards the career in medical research that she'd always wanted.





Annabella had learned years ago that any stitch gauge snafu could be compensated for if she just threw enough attitude and the right shades into the mix.





When Teoma found she didn't have the goods for slalom kayaking or roller sports, she decided the brand new Olympic sport of rope climbing and knitting would be her best bet of taking home the gold.





Twin sisters Aurora and Dawn had a knitting time ritual: Aurora would strum her ukelele while Dawn sang twelfth century chantefables and knitted. Unfortunately Dawn had only turned out ugly afghans so far, and Aurora was considering suggesting that they switch roles, but the subject had to be approached with care. Aurora remembered well what had happened the time she wanted to be the one who wore the fascinator.

1 comment:

  1. I find these hysterical but I also dated a man who looked remarkably like Tarquin...

    ReplyDelete