...a/k/a my second daughter. Now in her mid-20s, LK still changes her clothes several times daily and is gravely offended by others’ fashion faux pas. Especially mine.
She wants a shawl for Christmas, she says, a practical one just for snuggling on the couch. I haven’t knitted anything for her since beginning doctoral studies two years ago, and she feels neglected. How about this pattern, or this, or this? I ask. Too frumpy, too blah, too humiliating, she replies. How about checking the Ravelry site and finding something you like, I suggest weakly. As expected, "practical" in FP speak means “beautiful and delicate.” The verdict: it must be the Aeolian. But no beads. “Charcoal.”
Oh, right! I'm not falling for that one--I have spent many hours shopping and arguing color with FP, and I'm not about to guess about which color carried by an on-line vendor is FP-worthy "charcoal." So I begin forwarding her photos of yarn options. She pronounces “the third one the hottest.” But what’s the NAME OF THE YARN, I ask, because heaven knows which she opened third. Could I send them again? She had already deleted the prior messages.
And so begins the saga of the Fashion Police Shawl….
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