Alice Starmore: Glamourie

35069924Title: Glamourie
Authors: Alice & Jade Starmore

Glamourie is a Scots word meaning a charmed condition in which everything is invested with magical properties and possibilities. In this unique book, Alice Starmore leads us into the realm of glamourie and —like the witches of Gaelic folklore —casts spells with needles and a single thread. Taking her daughter Jade’s supernatural stories as inspiration, she uses the art of hand knitting to bewitch and bedazzle and illustrates the tales with elaborate costumes and accessories that portray fanciful and extraordinary ideas.
In creating these costumes, she has powerfully demonstrated the glamourie that can flow from the twin wands of a master magician.
While the first half of this book is an unrestrained flight of fancy, the second half contains full instructions for knitting beautiful garments based upon each costume, all written with Alice Starmore’s trademark accuracy and precision.
By developing each of these patterns from its associated costume, she has revealed how her mind works and how her imagination led her from the initial inspiration through to the final design.
Alice and Jade Starmore are from the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides, and its moody Celtic landscape is the backdrop to the stories, costumes, and designs they have created. The final stage of Glamourie was to take their creations back out into that landscape to be photographed. They trekked to special locations, far off the beaten track, and Jade’s spectacular photographs depict both the sweeping panorama and the minute detail of their beloved native isle. Three years in the making, this combination of photography and fable, of highly conceptual design and practical instruction, will enchant not only knitters but also those in the fashion and costume world and readers fascinated by Scottish and Gaelic legends.

Alice Starmore’s Tudor Roses featured patterns inspired by the Tudor women, each of which is introduced by a short text, told from the point of view of that women. It’s a really nice idea and the short texts made me curious enough to look up some of the women. (Because my knowledge of the Tudors begins with Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Survived and ends with knowing that Elisabeth I existed). Glamourie does something similar: every design is introduced with a short story about the creature that inspired the design, written by Jade Starmore. Additionally, Alice Starmore talks about her creative process behind the design and some of her own thoughts about the creature or her own experiences with them.

Here’s the thing: Jade Starmore’s fables are…nice. Cute, a bit cheesy and full of important morals like everything must dienothing always stays the same or having your heart broken is painful. Now I’m not criticising the lack of literary merit in the intro-texts of a knitting book but they are a part of this book. And they are not that great.

Meanwhile, Alice Starmore’s notes about her inspiration read a lot like those food-blogs where you have to suffer through the blogger telling you all about the first time they ever experienced snow when really, all you want is that Christmas cookie recipe they promised. I do not care about any person enough to be interested in their experience of completely ordinary things. And I definitely do not care what the ravens near Starmore’s house use to built their nests.

But this is a knitting-book after all, and the important thing about that are the patterns and the photos. Because I have a few knitting books with very atmospheric photos that match the theme of the book but you barely recognize any details about the item because it’s just a tiny part of a blurry photograph. Or the model is wearing so many other fancy clothes and the background is so busy that you can’t really focus on what should actually be the focus of the picture.

This is definitely not the case in Glamourie.  The photos are gorgeous. All are taken outside in front of a simple background (the sea, a field or a big rock) that perfectly matches the garment, without taking attention away from it. The same goes for the clothes the models wear with the knitwear: they perfectly compliment them but never distract from the actual garment. There’s also a lot of pictures of the designs, giving you the possibility to see them from more than one angle and from closeup and further away. Some designs are even shown in two different colours, which gives you an opportunity to actually see how that looks like instead of just imagining it.

Now for the patterns… Well, first, you have to know that Glamourie is divided into two parts: Costumes and Designs. The costumes are directly inspired by the stories (and you can have a look at them here) and are mostly…well costumes. Very few people would wear any of these things in everyday life. The costumes do not come with patterns. They are in the book to show off gorgeous photographs and some mediocre writing.

The designs are what Starmore describes as costumes ‘with the usual constraints applied to them’. They come with a pattern and are more wearable than the costumes. And yes they are also very beautiful (you can see them here). I can also understand, that adapting some of the costumes (especially the Raven and the Lapwing) for different sizes would be hard and that not too many people would want to knit something so complex when it has very limited use as everyday wear. On the other hand, there are certainly a lot of people who would want to knit a nice cabled sweater, a pretty colourwork cardigan or a fancy poncho.

Only: Glamorie costs around £42. Do you want to pay that amount for a total of 11 patterns of nice cabled sweaters, pretty colourwork cardigans, and fancy ponchos? I’m not even saying that it’s not worth that amount. Because I see those photographs and all the work that has obviously been put into the costumes, the designs and the photographs themselves (a few of the clothes the models are wearing with the knitted items are also handsewn). They mention that this book took three years of work and I believe that immediately. But at the same time: I just checked and if I put my last eight Ravely purchases together I’ll end up with slightly less than that. And two of those were actually not single patterns but whole books (one with 16 patterns, one with 4). So that gives me more than twice the amount of patterns for less than the price of this book. In other words, I can go and buy a book with nice patterns and pay for those patterns and lots of pretty things surrounding those patterns or go on Ravelry (or in my LYS) and look at some nice single patterns or perhaps a different book with nice patterns that costs perhaps half of that. And I’m much more likely to do the latter because no matter how gorgeous the photographs are, I can’t do more than look at them and say ‘well aren’t they gorgeous?’. And while I do occasionally spend money on things that are pretty and nothing more, this is still a bit much for a book that will mostly be closed on a shelf somewhere.

ARC provided by NetGalley

A Stash of One’s Own: Knitters on Loving, Living with, and Letting Go of Yarn

34227605Title: A Stash of One’s Own: Knitters on Loving, Living with, and Letting Go of Yarn
Editor: Clara Parkes

This addictive-to-read anthology celebrates yarn—specifically, the knitter’s reputation for acquiring it in large quantities and storing it away in what’s lovingly referred to as a “stash.” Consider contributions from knitting and teaching luminaries, including:
Stitch ’n Bitch co-founder Debbie Stoller
Meg Swansen, daughter of master knitter Elizabeth Zimmermann
Knitting blogger and author Susan B. Anderson
alongside offerings from knitting greats Amy Herzog, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, and Franklin Habit—plus, stories from a romance novelist, an illustrator, a PhD-wielding feminist publisher, a globetrotting textile artist, a licensed clinical social worker, and the people behind the world’s largest collective online stash, Ravelry.com. The pieces range from comical to earnest, lighthearted to deeply philosophical as each seeks to answer the question of how the stash a knitter has accumulated over the years reflects his or her place in universe.

The stories in A Stash of One’s Own represent and provide validation for knitters’ wildly varying perspectives on yarn, from holding zero stash, to stash-busting, to stockpiling masses of it—and even including it in estate plans. These tales are for all fiber artists, spinners, dyers, crafters, crocheters, sheep farmers, shop owners, beginning knitters to yarn experts, and everyone who has ever loved a skein too hard to let it go.

Rating: C

Asking a knitter what he or she plans on doing with the yarn he or she just bought is like asking a squirrel what it plans on doing with that nut it just buried under a pile of leaves. Obviously we plan on using it. Now? Later? For what? How can we know? Our main priority is simply to get that yarn safely back home and stored away in our stash. We’ll know when we need it.

I read this book to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now…

As it is the case with anthologies you get a mixed bag with this book. In Stashers: Who the heck are we? Lela Nargi simply wrote out some Ravelry stats about stash. I could never get much out of these “If you put all these together it would be enough to do X” things. Blame my failure to imagine measurements of any kind properly. Or the fact that for me 17 times to the moon and back and 100 times to the moon and back both boils down to ‘a bloody lot’.

But you also get a hilarious story by the Yarn Harlot about having too much stash, dealing with it and still having a lot that manages to describe the reason she is keeping a skein that looks like “Barbie and My Little Pony dropped acid and tried to come up with a colorway” in a rather touching way.

In another essay, Amy Herzog insists that she doesn’t have any stash. The yarn she has at home isn’t a stash. Never mind that it’s a lot more than I have in my two IKEA boxes (and that additional bag with sock yarn leftovers…) and that that yarn she has at home is not intended for specific projects which is for me the only reason to consider it not stash.

But then there’s also a beautiful essay by Franklin Habit (of It Itches-fame) talks about dealing with being a boy that wasn’t interested in typical masculine pursuits and then with the loss of his mother which was very moving.

After some outstanding (good and bad) stories, in the beginning, everything blurs together in the middle. Every essay seems to be some variation of ‘this is how I started knitting’ followed by ‘this is my stash’ and ‘this is when I realized it was too much and this is how I dealt with it’. Optionally accompanied by a story that is only vaguely/not at all connected to knitting and that sometimes takes more space than the parts about knitting. Somewhere in between a psychologist explains how much stash is too much and requires outside help (I don’t have that much).

Then, in the last third or so, we get some variety again. Lilith Green’s Work in Progress talks about her body image issues and how that also affected her knitting (and stashing) habits: muted colours, nothing that stands out, nothing that draws attention. And how she finally came to the conclusion that “I stash for the body I have now and will have for years to come. Not for the body others think I should have, or that I think I should have, but this body here and now.” while also admitting that loving her body is still ‘a work in progress’.

 

Here’s the thing. As makers, we fix things. That’s what we do. It’s our superpower. We’re good at it. When it comes to grief and loss, though, there’s no fixing.

 

A few more essays tell very personal stories about knitting as a way of dealing with loss and grief. For me, Comfort Yarn by Rachael Herron stood out especially but the others were great as well.

We also get A Proper Stash which has very little to do with (yarn or fabric) stash but sounds uncomfortably white saviour-y in parts. Eugene Wyatt’s On Giving is the essay that sounds most like self-promotion. It also opens with a quote by Anne Frank.
Allow me to throw a deeply-felt fuck you at that level of emotional manipulation. And finally, we look at Yarn as a Feminist Issue which makes some great points. Unfortunately, the writing is so condescending in some parts that I want to disagree out of spite.

So what do I think of the whole collection? It was…nice. The good stories (especially Comfort Yarn, Work in Progress and Habit’s Her Pretty String) were so good that I don’t feel like I’ve wasted my time with this. Despite some boredom (and anger). Am I saying this is a must-have for a knitter? No. Listen to a crafting podcast (I suggest The Crafting System or their sister-podcast On Pins and Needles) and knit some of your stash instead.

 

ARC provided by NetGalley