Pom Pom Quarterly : The Review

I was pottering about Angel the other day and popped into Loop, one of London’s loveliest yarn shops. Instead of emerging with yet more skeins of delight to add to my ever-increasing stash, I found this rather charming publication:

This is a new, indie mag that Lydia Gluck and Meghan Fernandes have put together. Knitting, thinking, embroidering, drinking is the byline and I like that. Pom Pom contains 5 patterns ranging from the charmingly do-able Skipworth Mitts to the ambitious lacework of the Wick Lane Shawl.

What makes these pieces more (dare I say it?) youthful and (yes, I will deploy the word) hip are the colour choices and the use of boutique yarn producers and dyers. In any other publication the selection of a mustard hue – Uncommon Thread’s Brassica - for a piece of knitwear would suggest a surfeit of flammable 1970s acrylic. Here, it’s bright and edgy.

Into the mix are a couple of small articles that enable the reader to answer more obscure questions from a pub quiz. The linguistic forensics of the verb “to knit” are revelatory and slightly toe-curling, for instance its 17^th-century deployment when referring to the gelding of farm animals.

* shudder *

My one quibble is the price. £9.50 for Issue 1. Eek! When one is faced with purchasing Pom Pom for its 5 patterns versus Rowan’s knitting magazine – a gazillion patterns – for £12 ish… well, it’s not a fair comparison between the behemoth yarn corporation and the intrepid indie entrepreneurs, I know, but I fear Rowan may win in these difficult economic times.

However as Pom Pom attracts more supporters, hopefully sponsorship shall soon follow thus bringing down the cover price or allowing for a couple of extra patterns. I also look forward to future editions providing more entertaining crewel in a similar vein to Steve the Marvelous Embroidered Insect and (as ever) a spot of crochet .

For now though, the scrumptious cocktail recipe for a rhubarb and vanilla Bellini on p. 18 - courtesy of Rebecca Litchfield from No. 98 preserves - proved a swift distraction from the cover cost. 

I heartily recommend a glass or three of this liquid ambrosia after an intensive session of the Wick Lane’s nupps and eyelets.

Pompommag.com

Aby Warburg and Washing Up Liquid Angels

One of my cherished knitting-related blogs, Hoxton Handmade, is a constant source of fascination. I am in envy of the Electric Sheep's knitting speed, astounded by her needle competence and always charmed by her podcasts. Whilst perusing her list of favourites I found, in the bottom right hand corner, an intriguing hyperlink:

What Not to Crochet

How could I not click?

So I did. And I think you should too. I shall post up here a couple of particular stunners (and leave out the X-rated ones), for example poodle shampoo covers and the Taliban-esque beards for babies.

The one that really got me thinking though, was this:

Yes. Headless angel washing up liquidcovers.

There is a famous art historian called Aby Warburg. Born in the 19^th Century, he went on to establish one of the most amazing research centres in the world; the Warburg Institute. He collected books and photographic images on all things Visual and Cultural, with a date range from Classical Antiquity to the Early Modern period. It’s the sort of place that makes an academic go quite breathless and pink-cheeked at the thought.

But why did he do it? Aby had spotted what I call “cultural echoes” through history. Particular images, gestures, figures that pop up in sculpture, painting, frescoes, manuscript illustrations, printed material and onwards into modern media such as film as music videos. Sometimes these were conscious manifestations, sometimes not.

The big question is; how did different audiences at different periods respond to these images and ideas? Warburg's triumph was the visual presentation of this concept in the Mnemosyne Atlas. To give a rather rough and ready example, just think of the Greek Gods. From Antiquity through the Medieval Period to the Renaissance and up until the recent production of Clash of the Titans, (*shudder* Awful film) Zeus et al still have resonance and reflect the mores of any particular society at any given time.

So what has this got to do with headless, angel washing up liquid covers?

Think about it.  A couple of thousand years ago, western civilisation started with winged zephyrs and bacchanalian helpers, progressed to ivory angels in Byzantium, Medieval Annunciations in Christendom, Renaissance cherubim and elegant, watchful witnesses of the 17^th and 18^th Centuries. For a quick glance, type “angels” as your key word into the Warburg’s Iconographic Database.

And now compare that visual selection with the headless, angel washing up liquid covers.

If ever one needed a sign –albeit an unconscious one, a horribly, horribly distorted cultural echo - that civilisation is possibly coming to a tragic end, I think these may be it.

They also raise another, more pressing question (one which I shall return to with some frequency):

Will crochet ever become cool?

Phoenix from the ashes

To my hoards of avid and dedicated fans *ahem*...

Apologies, apologies for the distinct absence of posts these past few months. After a stuttery start of two posts on this new blog, I became somewhat distracted by the multitude of other crafty delights scattered about the internet. Huge, whizz bang and sexily addictive platforms like Pinterest have led onto niche and stunningly beautiful websites and blogs, which in turn have produced sighs of delights, daydreams of a Skandi minimalist lifestyle and sleepless nights resulting from too much visual stimulation.

I have also come to the conclusion that Things Wot I Have Made (or TWIHM for acronyms' sake) - not that I have made much recently, what with hours frittered away on 'tinternt -  is arguably the frumpiest blog around.

Hmph. 

So how to rectify this situation? Well, putting finger to keyboard would obviously be a good start. And maybe finishing off a project or ten that's mouldering at the bottom of a basket somewhere. But there's another disadvantage that I shall have to overcome.  It appears that the authors of virtually ALL the pretty and arguably most successful blogs are graphic designers / interior designers / photographers / fine arty types...

... which does make sense but is disheartening for a mere art historian who's better at writing about pretty things, rather than putting them together.

Hmph.

How to make TWIHM sexy? I want a blog that's a balance of "geek chic" and "postmodern craftiness". And I mean craftiness of the knitting needle - rather than eminence grise - kind. 

Frumptastic is not what we're looking for.

Jolly good thing the nice people over at the rather successful Decor8 have an e-course that will help induce this unwilling phoenix chick from a Matterhorn-sized pile of ashes. The course started yesterday. I'm late for class already.