It’s true – I’m a superstitious creature even though I am all about the science. Rationally I know there’s “no such thing” as sympathetic magic, but having spent most of my formative years in desperate search of proof of unicorns, I can’t help but hope.
Sympathetic magic, for those of you who have not whiled away work hours reading “The Golden Bough” is based on imitation, or contagion/contact. Imitation involves using effigies to affect the environment of people, or people themselves – like poppets and voodoo dolls that contain scraps of hair or fingernails as a “link” to the person they were modeled off. Contagion/contact is the idea that you leave behind “trace” energy on things you own, and this can be manipulated or detected, or even transferred – like a warrior who eats the heart of his enemy to obtain his courage.
Seems pretty logical, right? Well, logical back when the caloric principle and the humors were hard science! But still, though I turn my nose up at it I’m careful whose hairbrush I use, lest anything be left behind that could be turned over to the wilier practitioners of folk hoodoo or santeria (or cloning technicians).
As a former theatre major, I’m all too familiar with the trade superstitions. Though, I enjoyed flouting them or enraging actors by shouting “MACBETH!” back stage or wishing an actor GOOD LUCK with a wide smile. I didn’t know, however, that it’s not done to knit in the wings of a theatre! Makes sense, if you’ve seen the way actors behave backstage in the dark. Someone could lose an eye!
Knitting superstitions intrigue me though, here’s an activity that women and men have been doing for thousands of years. It wasn’t an artsy thing then, but a utilitarian function. Many other utilitarian activities have scads and scads of superstitions associated with them, farming especially. But why are there so few surviving bits of folklore and superstitons about knitting? The only ones I could remember I heard from my Yetta (that’s great-grandmother to you, she’s Serbian by birth). She assured me that if you thought very hard about someone you hate while unravelling knitting you could hex them, and that you are not supposed to unravel something you knit for someone you love, lest you unravel your relationship (I assume this excludes unravelling contract or commercial knitting).
Some knitting superstitions floating about are especially silly, like never handing your friend the needles point first or at all, lest you damage the friendship (sorry J! We’re still friends, right?). Well, I suppose no one likes to get stabbed by a pointy object. And the idea that empty knitting needles brings bad luck? That’s a stash justification if I ever heard one!
Others seem to make a little more sense – never knit your boyfriend a sweater until you have the ring or you’ll doom your relationship. And the offshoot of “never buy your man shoes” is to never knit your boyfriend socks or he’ll walk away from you. Well, yes, if you knit him acid green lace socks he’ll run a mile, who could blame him? Or an embarrassingly dorky and fussy sweater in fuzzy wool that YOU loved, but your boyfriend – not so much. Couch common sense about male dress habits in with superstitious sternness and you have a line only the most fool hardy of knitters would cross. Although when I was in London I did see some awesome boot socks in a posh outdoors store – burgundy with lime green toes and a contrast heel…but I digress.
They say if you knit your own hair into the garment – which happens a lot to me on accident, I have lots of hair and it seems to like escaping my scalp – or think tender thoughts of someone while you knit (but not while you frog) you’re supposed to be binding yourself to the garments recipient, or knitting yourself together with the object of your thoughts.
Which can only mean that if I send Daniel Craig my cardigan we’re destined to be together!
And with that clumsy segue way I am so pleased to say that I have given in to my Aussie pal’s siren song encouragement and have started…a sweater. It’s the Dusk pattern from Kim Hargreaves’ Dark House collection, and I must admit that the leap from 2.00 mm needles to 4.5 seems pretty enormous. I’ve been knitting sporadically and I still can’t believe the growth on this thing. Doing the yarn substitution so I could have something warm and cozy to wear around the office was a pain, but thus far it’s worth it.
If I finish it I will have made my final leap from being a garter stitch scarf knitter to a Knitter in the course of a year! A very exciting prospect…
Also: Have you heard any knitting lore from an elderly relative or reputable source? Care to share?
