Warning: Not really a G-rated post! I think my mom gave my blog address to our family’s minister, so Pastor Linda, if you’re reading this, you may want skip this entry. I swear I’m a perfectly innocent girl with no knowledge of boy parts, promise!
Thank goodness the Buffalo weather has chosen to cooperate with my quest for the perfect hat. Last week we had a lovely day of balmy temps running around 5 below so I got to take the latest creation out for a test run.
Let’s just say that true to any good adventure quest, the first attempt was, um, a little less than stellar.
I rooted around in the stash and found a skein of Victorian Pink Lamb’s Pride bulky, perfect for the Hot Head hat from Stitch ‘n Bitch. (For once I made the pattern as specified so no modifications to blame for the failure.) Easy, fast knit, and, despite being a smidge weary of the pink craze, I came up with plans to add some flowers and doo-dads to make a matching set out of the hat and a store-bought brown scarf.
And then I wore the darn thing…
I was first disappointed that it was too short to fold up as in the picture, but minor problem and one easily fixed by adding more rows to the bottom or even ripping back before the decreases and adding rows. I had some initial concerns that the hat was going to poof up to a point at the top and give me the conehead look, but of course, being an impatient person, I wanted to debut my debacle as soon as it was off the needles.
Thank goodness the Buffalo weather has chosen to cooperate with my quest for the perfect hat. Last week we had a lovely day of balmy temps running around 5 below so I got to take the latest creation out for a test run.
Let’s just say that true to any good adventure quest, the first attempt was, um, a little less than stellar.
I rooted around in the stash and found a skein of Victorian Pink Lamb’s Pride bulky, perfect for the Hot Head hat from Stitch ‘n Bitch. (For once I made the pattern as specified so no modifications to blame for the failure.) Easy, fast knit, and, despite being a smidge weary of the pink craze, I came up with plans to add some flowers and doo-dads to make a matching set out of the hat and a store-bought brown scarf.
And then I wore the darn thing…
I was first disappointed that it was too short to fold up as in the picture, but minor problem and one easily fixed by adding more rows to the bottom or even ripping back before the decreases and adding rows. I had some initial concerns that the hat was going to poof up to a point at the top and give me the conehead look, but of course, being an impatient person, I wanted to debut my debacle as soon as it was off the needles.
In the morning, I came in a little late and had to park in the far, far campus lot (which is so far I might as well have a spot in Iowa and hoof it to Buffalo, but not complaining…). No problemo, I’m super girl with mohair in her hat and I’ve dealt with frozen lattes before. (See last post.) Bring it on, Buffalo, bring it on. The morning air was a bit brisk and the large gauge allowed some air seepage, but nothing too terrible.
The evening hike, on the other hand, was grueling. I’d had a very busy, stressful day which didn’t leave me time to actually eat anything besides a wimpy little protein shake so I started my trek hungry, tired and wiped out. That state may have something to do with the following mental breakdown, but I’m giving the hat most of the blame here.
Leslie’s Mental Monologue
Holy $%#^@ it’s cold out here. Must. Fight. Wind. One foot in front of the other. Only 267 more miles to go.
This is why it’s so hard to lose weight in Buffalo. The body is programmed to store fat layers for warmth. Good thing I’ve only shed three pounds or I’d really be freezing out here.
Hmm, let’s check out my hat as I walk past the reflective library windows.
AAAACCCKKK!!! I’m not a conehead, I’m a pen1s. Pink poofs in all the wrong places. That’s sooooo wrong. Must. Remove. Pen1sheadhat.
Woah, too cold to go commando.
Hey, I’m cool. I’m hip. I can pull off the pen1s look… at least until I get to my car.
Oh, man, I know that undergrad there is laughing at me. I can hear her now, “OMG* I just saw a dorky grad student wearing a pen1s hat. I would never be caught dead in a hat like that. That’s why I’m strutting across campus wearing a freakin’ miniskirt and UGG boots with bare legs. I’m waaaaay too hip for Sienna Miller leggings or a Pen1s Hat. Frostbite be damned!”
I never liked undergrads anyway.
So is it more of a naked pen1s or a condom head? Knitwear which resembles (or cozies) prophylactics is just wrong on many, many levels.
I wonder if there will be knitalongs for the latest issue of the AntiCraft. Shoot, I could enter this sucker and be the first to finish.
I bet this pattern is featured in that book, “Not Tonight Dear, I’m Knitting.” Who needs a boy when you’ve got a pen1s hat?
Okay, um, that’s not funny. I need a date, not more knitting.
No chance I’m going to get a date wearing this hat though.
I’m going to freeze before I get to my car. No, can’t do that. I can hear the news report now. “Girl Freezes in Fraternity Hazing Scandal! Forced to Walk through Arctic Tundra Dressed as Giant Pen1s! Story at 11.”
Victorian Pink yarn… humph. This stuff should come with a warning: “Resembles flesh when knit in suggestive shapes. Cast on with caution.”
And what makes this pink so Victorian anyway? The contemporary vision of the nineteenth century aesthetic is so problematic. T.S. Eliot and BBC movies have really created a fairyland of chintz, haven’t they? All angels and tacky lace and pink innocence when really, most of the lower classes during the Victorian era probably hadn’t a stitch of pink in their presence. It’s a darn good thing I’m researching this. I should send my dissertation to the Brown Sheep yarn company when I’m done so their yarn namer can address this problem.
Okay, now I’m a total dork wearing a Victorian Pink pen1s hat. I think the cold is making me lose touch with reality.
Don’t look in those reflective windows there. You don’t want to see what you look like.
Oh thank the heavens there’s my car. Ditch this hat now. I must be more careful with my future knitting.
Pulled down tight it isn't quite so pornographic, but trust me, with a pink scarf and the right poof, wrooooong.
Needless to say, the Pink Pen1s Hat will be frogged and the Victorian Pink yarn repurposed into something which in no way resembles anatomically correct fleshy bits.
* OMG = Oh my god in txt** speak because undergrads really do carry on as if all of life was a giant IM** session.
** txt = text; IM = instant messaging. What can I say, I spend a lot of time with undergrads. Their ways infect you unwittingly.