Resisting the pull to be a product

What makes me think that timed picture burst number N will be better than the last?

One of my first and best paid jobs when I got out of college was at an Amazon photo studio. It was at the back of a distribution center in Hebron, KY and I had to walk cautiously between yellow lines through stacks of products sorted and categorized for picking to reach it. The studio was a haven of consciously stylish decor tucked behind the industrial jungle, likely in the hopes of recruiting young artsy types from nearby Cincinnati.

The studio’s primary output was product photography of garments, though there was an expensive machine that took those 360 degree images of shoes that in no way give you a sense of what they will look like on your feet. Despite the creative-class trappings of the workplace, the process was as streamlined and industrialized as the package picking happening outside the studio. Tee shirts, baby clothes, and men’s parkas alike would be pinned to a reflective board, stuffed with plastic, steamed and photographed in succession. This produced the image of a disembodied piece of clothing with enough volume to suggest a human being’s presence but without having to interrupt the consumer’s consideration of the item for themselves.

It took six people to get this shirt to look just right. Also, this was one of the more memorable brands that came through the studio with a glut of tee shirts.

I didn’t work at the studio long enough to learn the tricks of the trade (I was primarily tasked with pinning and unpinning products at the beginning and end of styling), but I did learn a healthy fear and respect for the layers of humanity crushed under fast fashion’s raging flood.

Knitting and sewing my own garments wasn’t a conscious reaction to this experience, but it does soothe the eco Millennial guilt that I lug around like reusable shopping bags in the back of my car. I feel virtuous every time I bashfully say yes when someone asks if I made an item in my outfit, and the desire for this response is more prevalent in my making practice than I am comfortable with.

I tell myself that these are not decontextualized, floating products on the internet, but *hand-made pieces*. The truth, though, is that those tee shirts, baby clothes and parkas were also hand made, though likely by underpaid folks in terrible working conditions. Their labor is of equal value to my leisure, and opting out of fast fashion by spending hundreds on raw yarn and fabric is not a solution to the climate crisis.

And really, isn’t sharing the product online an important part of my process too? I recently spent an entire lunch break on a beautiful day trying to capture a finished object using my phone, a mini tripod and several blocks of wood stacked on top of each other for height. I felt crazy as I took another 10 photos, this time with my leg not as far in front and my chin a little further down and my hair tucked behind my ear and my hands in my back pockets. I was trying to show off my expensive cardigan as best as possible so I could share it in this newsletter and on Ravelry.

Please don’t judge my low battery and lack of service, I’m just a torso wearing handknits!

The pictures I’ve taken and shared of my work have the same carefully measured amount of individuality and product packaging as the output of the Amazon photography studio. The reams and reams of writing I’ve read about influencer culture have not made me immune to the disease of selling my lifestyle. What about the top of my head is verboten to share?

Maybe it’s the recent turmoil at Twitter, or working at a bourgeoning social media start up like Substack or the hours of knitting YouTube I mainline, but I’ve been pondering the ways we show up online and the fractured self I present even with my pittance of internet presence. I can’t image myself returning to my abandoned Instagram account (or giving up Ravelry for that matter) but maybe I can assert some humanity and embodiment here in these lines. Who knows, maybe the unbrushed, windswept top of my head will even make an appearance.

Finished Objects

My first and biggest FO is my Champagne Cardigan in La Bien Aimée Corrie Worsted and Kumo. I am smitten with the yarn combination and cannot stop touching it. The colorway of the suri alpaca (Aimée’s Sweater) adds whimsy to the dusky Anemone of the Corrie Worsted.

Did I get the pose just right?

These yarns are both absurdly expensive but the Corrie Worsted was purchased at one of my favorite local yarn shop, Fancy Tiger Crafts, with a too-generous gift certificate from my brother. I broke out the Kumo from my stash and cast on the exquisitely detailed Champagne Cardigan to do justice to my brother’s gift.

And oh man, that double knit button band really completes this look. I cannot believe how straightforward it was and how stunning the result is. I’ve been reaching for this beauty several times a week since I finished it.

The next FO I have are these wonderfully quick DK weight socks that cured me of sock ennui caused by a gift pair of fingering weight men’s socks. These practically knit themselves and the stripes make me think of camp counselors in the best way. The yarn is Day Hike from Woolens and Nosh; definitely subscribe to her email list for updates, her colors are perfect.

Works in Progress

Let’s time travel back to mid March when I started drafting this post, shall we? I cannot bring myself to take any new photos of these (by now almost all finished) objects so I’ll share a little capsule of a time before my spring got busy.

I hope this spring green is stil in season by the time I finish these socks!

I’ve had the first 52 Weeks of Socks book from Laine Publishing for about a year and I finally decided to cast on from it with this pretty green Ella Rae Heathered Merino Superfine. The pattern is Erika by Anja Heumann and the leaf motif is soothing to knit.

I’m also still plugging away at this Stockholm Slipover in Noro Madara. I love the flecks of color and the

Lastly, I pulled out some Neighborhood Fibre Co. Rustic Fingering from my stash to cast on a Lento during the #letslento KAL and am only getting around to casting it on now. I paired it with NFC’s Loft in similar colors and it’s impressively soft!