Sunday night was "The Second Annual Fall in Knits Benefit Fashion Event for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation, CT Affiliate Featuring: guest speaker and booksigning by Stephanie Pearl-McPhee." Knitters gathered to raise money for breast cancer. It was a nice thing and a good cause. The good karma I garnered by participating in this will hopefully cancel out all the bad karma for the things I am about to say. Because people, I have some things to say.
Now the title of the thing might lead you to believe that there was going to be a fashion show but alas no! "Fashion event" ¹ "fashion show." Instead "fashion event" = "knitted things placed on tables." Um, ok. I was expecting a runway. I was thinking there might be a chance that we would see a amateur model wipe out. I was thinking I would have a good laugh. I was thinking wrong - to some extent. There were no models and no wipe outs, but good laughs, they were aplenty.
First, we had many laugh-out-loud incidents of "crafting gone bad."
Here we have a scarf that is matte, shiny stringy, fringed, beaded, and bejeweled, and it might even have a hair clip or two thrown in for good measure. I'm not certain if it was torn apart by wild animals, or if the ravaged look was part of the appeal. Unfortunately, I was unable to get close up so my photo is a bit blurry. Nonetheless, I can tell you that she got extra points for the matchiness of the whole ensemble. Not everyone (or um, anyone) can pull off brown pumps, a brown speckled, beaded, shimmering ankle length skirt, turquoise tee shirt, and bohem scarf.
There was much debate as to whether this skirt was made or purchased. I believe it was made. By her blind great, great, grandmother. This would be a good reason to wear it. Otherwise, eek!
Ha! Fooled ya! That isn't crafting gone bad. That is my sock chilling with my friend's sock. This was placed here just to keep you on your toes. And to stop your eyes from bleeding. These are pretty. Shut up! They are!
Second, we had the Yarn Harlot. How funny is she? Even the muggles loved her humour (she is Canadian, must include that extra u). Some of her bit was from her books and I had already heard it, but even then, the delivery? Had you in tears. Literally. I feel like I should tell you more about how fun it was to hear her speak on life as a knitting humorist but I don't even know where to begin. I will mention that there was talk of willie-warmers and ribbing, and a MacGyver Arts Retreat, a retreat in which you learn how to do MacGyver-esque things. If such a retreat exists, then I am so there. If it doesn't, then people, we need to get one going.
Third, we had the door prizes.
There was probably about 250 people there and 125 door prizes. Odds were in your favor for getting a goodie. I was number 107. The first door prize was yarn. I said under my breath, "107, 107, 107, 107" as the caller reached for a number. She called 213 or something equally NOT 107. I was sad. I might have uttered "beyatch" under my breath. The second door prize, different yarn AND needles. Again I started, "107, 107, 107" and again something not 107 was called. I was sad again. I may have said "dammit!" This happened about several times and then one of my friend's numbers was called. She got some yarn and needles ...
Then there were more numbers, or I should say, more numbers that were NOT MINE. And I was sad. Repeatedly. But then the tides, they started to change. The door prizes were no longer yarn. There was a book on child rearing or a bird feeder or something else so totally not me that my chant went from "107, 107, 107, 107" to "not me, not me, not me." Instead of "asshole!" there was a "thank you Jebus!" But then, the tide switched again, more yarn. "107, 107, 107" "No, no, no" "107, 107, 107" Man, I was getting angina. I heard the next thing was three balls of yarn and I started in with the "107, 107, 107, 107" again and she called "108." ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Actually, though, it was ok. It was another friend. She too got some yarn ...
So now, I am surrounded by people with good stuff. Did I mention the stranger behind me won a facial and massage? Yah. So, I am feeling a little dejected, a little bit like a loser, when out comes the MOTHER of all door prizes.
Yes, that is a hand made, hand knit wreath. Each flower individually knit from the highest quality acrylic. Made by and donated from the "Wednesday Night Knitters" who are SO NOT MINE. We are DIFFERENT. Apparently more than one group of knitters meet on Wednesday nights because if someone in my group decided to make even one of these little flowery things, I would absolutely laugh at her, in person, not just in my head. Then I would use the acrylic to tie her down while I got her the help that she so needed. If I was to win this and bring it home, Boo would use the wreath to bludgeon me for my questionable taste. Then he might hang it on the front door to scare the neighbors (a la "You thought the leaves were bad?"). Crafting gone bad would be generous. So, now I am using all of my telekinetic, psychic, and mental powers to will her to say 119. I don't know who 119 is, but it is not me and that is all that matters. Heck, maybe 119 would even like this. Well, 119, or whatever number she was, was in my row (hence how I was able to get a photograph). When she was handed that wreath you would have thought she had been handed a case of the clap. She smiled, but you could tell it was fake. Sorry 119!
In the end, I won a $20 gift certificate to Stop & Shop. I had been sufficiently beaten down by the fear of the wreath, a painting by a local artist, and a rug, that by the time I won the S&S gift card, I may have let out a very unladylike "YES!" I did NOT however, jump up and down an ninny ninny the suckers with the less desirable door prizes.