As I’ve said before, this is nobody’s idea of a knitting blog, especially since I am barely a knitter myself, but there is only so long I can accumulate these woolen horrors before I share them with all of you. I know many of you were badly shaken by the previous collection, especially by this, so I will try to be a little more in line with your delicate sensibilities. At least this time around! Many of you have kindly shared your own found knitted tragedies, so I thank you very much as I post the following.
This one starts out seeming like a relatively rational use of yarn and time if you like to wrap your scarf around your bust and severely constrain the range of motion for both arms:
Then she turns around and SURPRISE! The scarf or, dare I say, capelet, is actually growing out of her shoulder blades.
Too tame for you? Just wait, there’s more:
I bet this gal is sorry it’s 70 degrees out and she has to put her woolen shoulder skirt away.
And yes, I can appreciate that there is some seriously talented knitting involved there.
Would you say the same for this one? Or would you just agree that it looks a lot like the feral cat that frequents our yard if I were to put a strap on it and hang it over my shoulder?
My, she sure has a sunny outlook, doesn’t she?
And I think we can be sure she is bringing home the bacon.
But, dear readers, I have saved the best for last.
I’m already “casting” about for your next installment, which might include a few completely irony-free vintage numbers like the one on this hapless fellow below.