why not.

Some things which are not reasons why I weave/knit/spin/sew:

--“It saves money.” You must be laughing already.

--“To make money.” Good luck.

--“It’s such a spiritual experience.”
Yes, it can be, just as chopping wood can be, or doing dishes, or walking or painting or making clay pots. I’ve certainly been hit by profound experiences while creating something. But, like any other creative endeavor, textiles require practice to achieve technique. Practice is just that—practice. Repetition, experimentation, failure, redesign, struggle to capture an idea. Practice can be spiritual, but it can also be immensely frustrating. Weaving or knitting or spinning does not guarantee a spiritual experience any more than sitting on a zafu guarantees enlightenment.

--“I feel so connected to all the women through history who wove/knit/spun/sewed for their families…”
Bogus. The idea of women as domestic decorations who do handwork while sitting by a cozy fire is surprisingly recent. Women have most often been excluded from the organizations where textile innovation was taking place. Much of what we perceive as women’s work probably wasn’t, for large portions of history. And when it was women’s work, it was *work*. Strenuous, dull, never-ending every daylight moment work. The personal touches and beautiful stitching we love to admire on old textiles were probably far rarer than we’d like to believe. Feeling connected to other textile producers in whatever era is wonderful, but in my opinion should be based on respect for execution and technique, rather than misconceptions about gender and the reality of trying to clothe a family with one’s own hands.

--“It’s so basic, it really reconnects me with the essentials of life.”
With all the faddishness, high fashion patterns, outrageously expensive yarns and fabrics and trinkets out there, I find it hard to sustain this argument. How far removed is the yarn in your LYS from the back of an idealistic sheep in some scenic field? Is large-scale sheep farming or cotton agriculture really a simple thing in our culture? If it makes you feel connected, I suggest this is because of attitudes you bring to it, and not inherent in the practice itself.

--“It brings me in touch with the indigenous people of (your favorite third world area) and how close to the earth they are; how whole and pure their life is.”
I don’t know why I find this so exasperating—I hear it quite often and it almost always irritates me. I don’t know a lot about third world cultures, but I do know that the dirt, squalor, disease and poverty are things that few of us would choose. They may be close to the earth, because they have to be, but they are not therefore immune from alcoholism, political scandals, or other detritus we may abhor in our own culture. I think it’s wonderful that by weaving or spinning we have a better understanding of what skills are required to survive, and can better appreciate the expertise that goes into indigenous dress of all kinds. But fondling a ball of cashmere in a warm well-lit yarn store is a far, far cry from walking barefoot on a steep dusty rocky mountain path with a child on your back, spinning dirty fleece while you climb, not because you want to but because you have to. Well-intentioned as we may be, sitting at a nicely polished loom in our leisure hours doesn’t give a very accurate picture of sitting day after day in the dust, manipulating a set of sticks and string. Being a knitter or spinner does not give us an automatic understanding of a foreign culture and the complexities it contains.
I think it’s wonderful and entirely appropriate to learn about indigenous techniques and to honor them and value them. But the comparison to western fiber workers stretches a bit too thin for my comfort. Our assumptions about the purity, simplicity and pleasures of a subsistence lifestyle tend to be way off the mark. Even our appreciation of their work brings thorny issues—should they then change their designs and colors to be more attractive to our eyes? Should they make cheaper, coarser things so that they can produce more? Once we know about them, they are already facing pressures from a larger world, pressures that threaten the very lifestyle we idealize. The wholeness we love to find begins to erode the moment our culture touches theirs.

And by the way, the “you” above is a purely fictitious non-specific you. No offense intended to anyone. My day to be opinionated.

Comments

[Kerstin]

Great post, Carrie! I love your "why not"s. That last one is a real killer. "Whole" and "pure" is not what I would describe any life anywhere on this planet, but especially not in third world countries. Why do people feel a need to idealize poverty? I have a friend in Alaska who lives relatively "close to the land." He loves it but it is a life of continual hardship. No thanks! Give me a ball of cashmere in a well-lit yarn shop anyday. :)

[Denise Kibler]

I love to sew my own stuff and am looking forward to seeing your patterns.