it isn’t though!!! it’s because most relationships aren’t worth the effort. The “sweater curse” is actually most commonly called the “BOYFRIEND sweater curse.” Which=heteronormative, but the curse most often falls on a woman knitting a sweater for a boyfriend. Before she finishes the sweater, they break up – pop culture would have you believe it’s because the boyfriend freaks out do to the weirdness/clinginess of having a sweater made for you, but I think knitters are wiser than that.
It’s because after spending serious £££ on materials, and then HUNDREDS OF HOURS OF LABOR on the creation of the item, with every stitch a prayer of totally focused intent, creating a large display of technical skill – it is then gifted to a non-knitter who does NOT APPRECIATE the work/effort/skill/cost/TIME it took to make it, and in fact thinks you’re a bit weird and making a big deal out of a piece of clothing, and after they go “oh thanks” and shove your creation in the cupboard next to a sweater they got for £15 at an M&S sale, then they never wear your sweater because it’s too tight because when you asked them how their favorite sweaters usually fit they said “I ‘unno” and when you measured them for the fifth time and asked, rather tersely, if they had enough room in the chest, they said “I guess,” and then if pressed they say they don’t really like the sweater design, but then you point out that they were supposed to participate in helping you design it and they say they don’t really care about how things look, and when you say that you tried to match it to their other clothes so how can they hate it, then they say that honestly their mother still buys all their clothes because they hate going shopping, and that they hate all their other clothes too, well. That’s when a sensible knitter goes “Fuck this shit. And you know what? Fuck this man.”
This is what happens when someone posts in a knitting forum “Attack of the sweater curse!” – this is the usual story. It has a rigid plot. It is as old as myth.
That’s when you look at the time you spent and realize, “I could LITERALLY have written the first draft of a novel instead of doing this.” That’s when you go “I could have taken that £200 and bought myself a new wardrobe.” That’s when you go “I could have taken all that intent, all that willpower, all that creative force, and laid down some fucking witchcraft, all right?” That’s when you go “I basically spent 100 hours straight thinking about this bastard while making something amazing for him, and I have no evidence that he ever spent 10 hours of his life thinking about me.”
And “I could spend this time and energy and money in making myself an enormous, intricate heirloom silk shawl with just a touch of cashmere, in elvish twists and leafy lace in all the colors of the night, shot through with subtly glittering stars, warm in winter and cool and summer and light as a lover’s kiss on the shoulders, suitable for draping over my arms at weddings or wrapping myself in to watch the sea, a lace-knotted promise to myself that I will keep for my entire life and gift to my favorite granddaughter when I die, and she will wear it to keep alive my memory – but instead I have this sweater, and this fuckboy.”
The sweater curse is a lesson that the universe gives to a knitter at an important point in their life. It is a gift.
Knitting a sweater for a husband or wife generally doesn’t call down the curse, because the relationship is meant to be stronger than 4-ply.
(Although I say this, but I’ve taken over 5 years to finish a pair of mittens for my husband, because he casually asked me to do something customized with the cables, and I still can’t get the math to work on the right hand.)
I’m not someone who believes in ghosts, but I was sitting in my room, alone and in the dark, and I heard the strings of my violin being softly plucked.
My violin is hanging on the wall several feet away.
So I gathered my courage, grabbed my phone, and used the camera light to investigate.
And found this.
A goddamn spider was playing my violin. Not even joking. The little shit.
I think I’d have preferred a ghost….
So anyway…. *tiny incoherent cough exhumes from spider* Here’s Wonderwall.
bwa ha ha ha
I hesitated before posting, but I bet I know what’s going on here. The plucking was pretty rhythmic, right?
Male spiders pluck the webs of female spiders in a pattern to determine if the female is interested.
That spider was trying to mate with your violin…
Ahh so it’s a boy(I just assume every insect I see is a girl) that’s such a cute mating ritual!
He just wants love!
The behavior would indicate that it is a male. Only females weave webs. Male spiders have to be careful not to be mistaken for prey and eaten, so they pluck the web. Poor thing didn’t exactly get any this time!
Poor spider thinking “Damn this web was made by a strong spider, a real awesome spider, can I possibly get with this boss ass spider??”
i just saw a new psychiatrist and I know he’s not Right For Me bc the reason I went undiagnosed with autism for so long is that I’m very social and I painstakingly adapted a lot of behaviors throughout my childhood to be more socially “acceptable” going so far as having family members help train me to make eye contact and when I told him I’m recently diagnosed he said “is that a diagnosis you identify with a lot or that you’d be okay with changing” and I’d only been talking to him for like…..25 minutes and he was like “because you seem very social, so I wouldn’t have made that connection”
YOU’VE KNOWN ME!!!! FOR LESS THAN HALF AN HOUR!!!!
it’s just frustrating bc I get this response a lot from people who are meeting me after two decades of intensive behavior checking bc I didn’t know I had autism and thought I was just weird and needed to fix myself.
I forced myself to never stim, I’ve struggled with volume control and an auditory processing disorder every day, my brother actively trained me to make eye contact at age ten, I learned to use humor to cover my total lack of situational and social awareness, and after 20 years of struggling like this, ppl will be like “but you don’t act autistic”
bitch you’re right!!!!! I don’t!!!!!! because I wasn’t allowed to and it’s had emotional consequences I’m only just now beginning to unravel!!!!
all cops are bastards…and whiny pissbabies apparently
this is from my home town. i don’t even know what to say.
fuck all cops
The saddest part is that apparently the newspaper did issue a public apology after this. How disappointing to see them cave to what sounds like a child’s temper tantrum.
Urocyon's Jaunts 2.0 
You must be logged in to post a comment.