You know your friend is taking her divorce badly when she starts ‘crafting’.
One minute she’s acting completely normally – screaming at the children, downing industrial-sized bottles of cider, weeping uncontrollably and burning her ex’s suits in the street – the next she’s sat at the kitchen table knitting cakes and threading beads on to a piece of wire and calling it jewellery.
On the face of things, it’s easy to assume that such a hobby is A Good Thing and that your friend should be encouraged to pursue creativity in the (desperately unlikely) hope that she might actually find some one day. But this is a short-sighted view.
That crap she’s manufacturing on the table? Where do you think it’ll end up? Yes, eventually it’ll be on eBay or at a craft fair full of hormonal women and beardy men selling the kind of pointless tat that deserves to go straight to landfill, but in the meantime? Three words: birthdays and Christmasses. Four words: YOUR birthdays and Christmasses.
My birthday looms in the next fortnight, and one friend has already given me a gift: six hand-knitted cakes presented on what looks like a pile of woollen vomit, but which is, apparently, a knitted plate. Worse, the knitted cakes are stuffed with pot pourri – talk about gilding a turd.
Her ex-husband has a lot to answer for. When they were arguing and living a life of untold misery there was no time for my friend to knit. God, I miss those days.
I have informed my nearest and dearest that if I ever show any signs that I might start knitting cakes, or making menopausal jewellery, or scrapbooking, or decoupaging papery shit on the front of cards, then they can refer to my living will and buy me a one-way ticket to the Dignitas euthanasia centre in Switzerland. It’s kinder that way.
In the meantime, I leave you with my Top Ten Knitted Things That Definitely Aren’t Fucking Cakes:
1) The knitted digestive tract. An anatomically correct representation of the digestive tract in wool. Apart from that green thing – what in hell’s name is that? A rogue sprout? And is it just me, but does this look eerily like a French man wearing a beret (or Field Marshal Montgomery)?
2) A knitted tank cover. A tank top with a difference, for when you simply haven’t got time in the morning to defrost the windows before you set off. I have a feeling that this is an ‘ironic’ work of art and, more to the point, that my taxes probably paid for it.
3) Knitted lady parts suit. Combining, effortlessly, two things I hate: crafting AND fancy dress. Before you tried this outfit on, you just FELT like a massive twat when you went to fancy dress parties.
4) Knit one, curl one. To be used with the knitted digestive tract in a biology lesson when your audience gets restless.
5) My favourite of the bunch. Expectant parents can buy a $137 set which includes a vaginal knitted uterus, a Caesearean knitted uterus and a ‘fetal model’ (sadly not knitted) so they can play out a woollen labour before going through it for real themselves. As the website says: “One of the most effective cervical effacement and dilatation teaching tools ever devised, this knitted uterus model is made of variegated blue acrylic yarns that differentiate the fundus, lower segment, cervix, and vagina (attached with snaps).” If only the vagina was detachable in real life – it would solve so many problems.
6) As I explained in my last post, I failed my biology O level on the grounds that I refused to dissect a frog. If only I’d had this knitted answer to hand, I could have really stuck it to The Man.
7) A miniature, knitted brain. The default position for the crafter: if it’s worth making, it’s worth making in miniature. OMG! LOL! Soooo cute!!! 😉 etc etc, repeat to fade.
8 Knitted Ash from the Evil Dead. Somehow far more honest than a teddy bear.
9) Strike two for knitted ‘irony’.
10) You knew it was coming. Or perhaps you didn’t, because it was wearing this cosy suit. Available in Extra, Extra Large, Extra Large, Large, Medium, Small and OMG! LOL! Soooo cute! 😉 Miniature.
I have not told my friend I hate her cakes. She has enough on her plate. Perhaps that’s why she’s knitting new ones.