accidental feminist

Hello readers of Rachel’s blog! Are you ready to knit? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!! I thought I‘d begin this foray into the land of (many, many) knitting blogs with mention of the resurgence of knitting among hip urban (white) women. In case you haven’t seen that punk rock girl knitting on the El or the Pacific Northwestern hippie girl knitting at the beach (or coffee shop), I’m here to tell you that knitting is IN. It feels as if, in fact, to be a late 20s/early 30s single gal and not knit is like being in college without a well developed sense of irony. Thank goodness I was able to GET IN on the coolness (in both ways) in my college days. By now, I know enough to not embarrass myself in front of knitting hipsters.

Knitting has come a long way since your grandma’s sweater. Not only is it a symbol of COOL, you can also produce a highly fashionable product. There are amazingly funky yarns and cutesy projects like cell phone holders and yoga mat bags that make the perfect gift for that special anti-materialism-pro-organic-homemade-crafty person in your life!

To christen this knitting blog, I have painstakingly typed in a passage from my favorite knitting book, Debbie Stoller’s “Stitch and Bitch”. I believe this passage sums up why this blog is at home with the accidental feminist:

“When I’d tell people about my latest obsession, I’d invariably get one of two responses. The first, “Can you teach me, too?” was a common and very welcome reply. But other friends responded with “Really?” or “How interesting,” both spoken with an air of disbelief, even a touch of disdain. After all, I had gotten a Ph.D. in the psychology of women and had started BUST, a feminist magazine—what was I doing knitting? Soon it occurred to me that if I had told these folks I’d been playing soccer, or learning karate, or taken up carpentry, they most likely would have said, “Cool,” because a girl doing a traditionally male activity—now, that’s feminist, right? But a girl doing a traditionally female activity—let alone one as frivolous and time-wasting as knitting—well, what were they to make of that?

It made me rethink me original feminist position. After all, it had been thirty years since the feminist revolution of the 1970s and housewives as we knew them had pretty much gone the way of the dinosaur, so why, dammit, wasn’t knitting receiving as much respect as any other hobby? Why was it still so looked down on? It seemed to me that the main difference between knitting and, say, fishing or woodworking or basketball, was that knitting had traditionally been done by women. As far as I could tell, that was the only reason it had gotten such a bad rap. And that’s when it dawned on me: All those people who looked down on knitting—and housework, and housewives—were not being feminist at all. In fact, they were being anti-feminist, since they seemed to think that only those things that men did, or had done, were worthwhile. Sure, feminism had changed the world, and young girls all across the country had formed soccer leagues, and were growing up to become doctors and astronauts and senators. But why weren’t boys learning to knit and sew? Why couldn’t we all—women and men alike—take the same kind of pride in the work our mothers had always done as we did in the work of our fathers?”

While I like the idea of expressing feminism by honoring work that is historically “women’s work” (or “squaw’s work” as my friend Leigh’s grandmother would say), I think she’s being a bit melodramatic about being ostracized for knitting. I mean, come on, we all know how cool it is!

Next up: bee-buttoned honeycomb baby hat! (say that five times fast!)