Mancraft Monday!

Can I even call this a craft? I mean, I emptied a bottle of Jack Daniels* and stuck the apparatus from a broken** soap dispenser on it. Seriously, screwed right in. That's the $11 bottle of Jack; just about what you'd pay for a new soap dispenser. My cousin's husband is going to love this. He's a fan of JD which makes it perfect for his bar!

But craft? Let's call it DIY and move on to next week, which will involve actual sewing.


*Into a decanter.
**For some reason the soap dispenser that we had in the kitchen came detached from its base. It became completely unstable just in time to be repurposed.

Dialogue

Like Donna, I was delighted to see that we have entered into a dialogue about the possible representations of cross stitch, and I do hope it is one that continues. I think that Mr X and I are on the same side, mostly. I didn't see a manifesto on his website so I didn't know that his intention was to "challenge[] the conception that embroidery is just a hobby and not a valid art or craft form...[pieces featured on his site] serve some function in altering people's perspectives of the genre." As you know, I am a big fan of altering people's perspectives of the genre. Which is why I have the "old lady count" and feature the silly stories the media tell about us. And encourage you to write to complain.

I must recommend Rozsika Parker's Subversive Stitch to everyone who wants to be radical. Cross your fingers that it is in your library because it runs $145 in paperback these days. Don't be put off by the subtitle: Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine. The book shows how women have long resisted the very things we think we're resisting today by writing "fuck" in cross-stitch. I don't know, somehow if you know history, you just come off better.

So what were people doing in the 60s, 70s, and 80s to be radical? (In Parker's book, she even shows how women in the 20s were being radical in embroidery.) Since one could write a whole book on this, let's turn to one example, Judy Chicago who attempted to elevate women's craft in the mid-to-late 70s when she created the Dinner Party and reinforced these attempts with the Birth Project in the 1980s. (And indeed, in an overdetermined way, Chicago's work informs this very blog.) The latter focuses more on needlework than the former, though it is included in the place settings of the Dinner Party. (Of course, even Chicago's attempts to elevate craft are open to very valid criticism. Here's a pretty good summary, though not such a good refutation.)

Is the problem that her work seems so old fashioned and feminist? What exactly are people trying to do differently?

One of the main problems with cross-stitch-as-art is that sometimes artists aren't very good artisans--their work sort of sucks. Or more literately, the idea is good but the execution lacks talent. When I went to see the Dinner Party in L.A. many moons ago, they also had a secondary display of artwork that played with the notion of women's work and art vs craft. There were little cross-stitched Piet Mondrian-type pictures on display. With hoop marks. It was big-A Art because it was playing with ideas about high versus low (and also it was in a museum) but technically my eight year old niece could have stitched it. Or maybe the refusal to use an iron was subversive?

I know there are lots of dear readers who refer to what they do as "art" but when you copy a pattern, that is craft. It is the very definition of craft. You can call your cubic zirconium a diamond, but it doesn't make it one.

Of course there are those who create their own patterns and that does move toward art. But unless you have a technical mastery, I'm afraid I can't call it art. There are even designers I wouldn't consider artists. If you are "designing" things that I could design with a charting program, not art. I just think there really has to be some level of design skill involved, and I can point to dozens of popular designers who aren't using the skills they quite probably have. If you are creating reproductions of existing samplers, not art. (But a fabulous service to those of us who love antique samplers.) If you are charting famous artwork or photographs, not art. (I think I have to agree somewhat here with Bronny about the blending of skintones, but I also appreciate that there is always a bit of a pixelated look to cross-stitch which makes it so intriguing in a computer age.)

Donna said "it's the media" but I spent eleventy-million years writing a dissertation saying that while the media does reflect a larger belief system they don't create it. Of course, spreading the reflection, yes, and if that's what we mean by creating, okay, creating then.

And I don't disagree that it's wonderful that young people are taking up all kinds of needles. I was in my early twenties when I started stitching (though I did crewel at a much younger age). I encourage my niece to stitch as well. Stitch, young people, stitch!

But "stitchalicious" says

It's really no different to any other hobby/interest/sport/career. The young are eager and beginners. These are people just getting into it and of course they want positive feedback. And of course we want to give it so that they KEEP doing it and get better. Why can't we be to them what our teachers were to us? I can assure you that my first needlework teacher (ummm, Mum) gushed over the wonkiest, ugliest, worst stitching ever to be inflicted on a piece of fabric and that is part of what kept me doing it.

I must respectfully disagree, having spent 8 years as a college writing teacher. Sure your mother is supposed to gush, but not all teachers are. I didn't have that mother. She praised what I did well, and was honest about my weaknesses. We're in this trap that there's something about self-esteem that prevents us from being critical. Frankly, there's no place for feelings when you are trying to get better at something. I can't possibly imagine the dude blogging about his golfing and people applauding him like he was Tiger Woods (so, it's not like other interests and sport). In sport we have really rather defined categories: professionals and amateurs; junior varsity vs varsity; high school vs college; intramural vs college team; Division I vs Divisions I-AA, II, and III; Olympic-caliber vs weekend athlete; Pros vs Joes. (Of course, golf lets amateurs play with the professionals. Still not all amateurs are equal.) And I'm pretty sure the guy who plays pick up on the weekends doesn't think he could compete with Kobe Bryant; maybe not even the Duke basketball team. Just because something is accessible doesn't mean we are all masters. I'm not going to turn up my nose at beginner work--I'm not even going to turn it over and look at the back--but I don't think that just because you can make an ex on a piece of fabric you should be lauded. And I do think that's what the DIY-media has a tendency to do. Things they haven't seen before should be featured.

So is it ingenious to embroider a picture of your vibrator? Is it "new" to cross-stitch political statements? No. Do I think that people should stop doing it? No. Do I think we need to have a historical grounding for talking about what we are doing? Yes. Do I think that technical excellence is important? Yes. Do I think I'm better than you? Probably (but that has nothing to do with the fact that I am technically skilled but too lazy to make the things you are making). Do I want to be lumped with the old ladies who stitch geese because that's the strawman you set your own radical nature against? No. I want you to understand that the spectrum of crafters and output is much more expansive than you seem to think. Promise me, okay? Then let's go down to the pub and drink to it.

Upcycling

I'm have found myself perplexed on occasion by many of these DIY people who are greening the world by saving the cardboard from the recycling pile. I mean, some stuff I see is cute. Other times they have taken sleeves from one thing and created a Frankensteinian outfit by sewing them onto another shirt or using them as leg warmers (leg warmers! Can I bow out of environmentalism if it means wearing legwarmers? I think every woman who was in high school in the 80s should get a pass.)

This just floored me: a toilet paper tube covered with wrapping paper to corral an extension cord. Really? I don't have that kind of time. Also, my extension cords come with a handy self-corall-er (that little plastic doohickey that plugs into the female end). Then I put them in a plastic shoebox so they won't slide off the shelf. I suppose what I should have done is saved all my shoe boxes ever so that I could have wrapped one up in card making scraps all fancy like and used that for storage.

You should play along. Go forth, find a ridiculous DIY "upcycle" project. Leave a link in the comments so we can all point and laugh.

PS: I think number 6 might be child abuse.

Is Kitsch Cool?

When I was in grad school there was this woman, Lois, who wore 50s house wife dresses with her vintage shoes, horn rims, and red or (better!) orange lipstick. See, it was kitsch because she was an intellectual in sheep's clothing. But really, she just looked stupid.

When I was in high school, I was a bit of a punk. I wore my father's military jacket (with some slogan against capitalism written on it), Doc Martin's, and a safety pin through my ear, and every once in a while I'd drive down to Boston to see Black Flag. But even then, I'd think to myself, "if the point is to undermine society by expressing our individuality, why the fuck do we all dress the same?" It was okay for me to say it, because I was an insider, but when my parents would point out that we were joining the revolution by donning a uniform, well what could we expect really? It was just their way of reinforcing hegemony.

It's not like I can't see the underside of kitsch. It's not like I don't analyze revolution.

I've been thinking about this since I read Anneli Rufus's article It's Yarn Out Here for a Pimp. She reviews the passel of hip craft books that have hit the shelves recently.

First she points out that the movement has a little Lois going on:

Subversive. Revolution. Viva. Most of these authors feel compelled to keep reminding you that crafting isn't dorky anymore — well, yes it is in flyover country. But not here, where hipsters with braided-yarn headbands know that felt Christmas ornaments and homemade snow-globes and bleach-bottle piggy banks and disco balls are ironic. When Auntie decoupages, we want to die. When we crochet, it's kitsch.

I am perfectly willing to don the mantle of dork that goes along with being a cross-stitcher. I tell people I do it, knowing they'll think a little less of me. But you'd better step outside if you want to call me that, bitch.

Then she goes all parental on us:

In principle, a rickrack revolution is really cool. Save cash. Create. But what's weird and kind of sad is how the same handful of themes pop up in book after book. Tikis. Zen. Space, not as in the Mars Rover but as in Plan 9 from Outer Space. Cowboys. India, à la Cube Chic's "visual mosaic of paisley and pop" and Pimp My Cubicle's "Taj Mahacubicle," sporting "broomsticks with white painted basketballs as minarets at each corner." Disco. Pirates. And pimping. ... What marketing director died and made these the themes? Why not, for a real insurrection, a James K. Polk-themed kitchenette or a workspace encrusted in faux rock salt? Hunkering down on hands and knees, Astroturfing your fridge for the jungle look, or stenciling planets onto chairs, you have to ask yourself one question: Is this fun or just cynicism with scissors, poking fun at places and passions alien to me and long lost anyway; spinning snark about what once might have been sincerity; painting and pinning but it's still prefab because some writer told me that tikis are hilarious, that the hustle and bump I never danced are all that passes for iconic in a globalized, homogenized today? You just have to ask yourself. Because you could collage your closet door with pictures of bagpipes or prawns or Charlemagne. You really could.

I just wonder, who's poking fun at places and passions alien to me? Who's the snark now?

I don't know; I'm not allowed to watch tv in my own house

DIY is debuting Uncommon Threads designed to showcase the latest trends in needlecrafts. Will this bring us to the heights of popularity experienced by knitting and scrapbooking?

We're on day 5 of the 10 day British invasion. My nephew is cute, but his parents are starting to drive me insane. I came to work early because I had to get out of the house.

How to redesign a storebought sweater?

Trinny and Susannah say I shouldn't wear turtlenecks. And I believe them. I like my neck a lot better when there's a plunging neckline below it.

Of course, I have two fantastic cashmere turtlenecks. How can I change their shape? Can one sew a knit item? Neither are handknit, both are ultrafine gauge. I don't even want to own needles small enough to "reknit" the sweater necks. If I just cut off--and serge, or something to prevent ravelling--the necks, the sweater will look like it's had its turtle cut off, if you see my point. One is a delightful, thick, aran-like sweater. I need need need to keep this because it's so soft and cuddly. I just wish it didn't make my chins look like they were breeding. To say nothing of the too-large breasts that run into my too-short waist.

I don't want to donate these to a cause. I want to wear them and look smashing. Help!