Stuff & Nonsense: When Perfectionism Rears Its Ugly Head.

The past fortnight has seen my usual companion at Casa Bookish - perfectionism - almost grind my work to a halt. I think a designer needs to have a dash of perfectionism in her. You need to pay close attention to detail - such as stitch counts, style sheets, how colours work at the photo shoot. Designing can also be a long, hard slog of making numbers work, getting the placement of a detail just right and finding the best way to phrase a tricky instruction. But if perfectionism stops you from every accomplishing anything - if your search for perfection means you never release a pattern - then you need to let go.

"That Isn't Exciting & Original" - How Nothing Is Ever Good Enough

Recently I have really struggled to let my perfectionism go. I have one project that I have designed six times and ripped out five times. Each of those six designs has been completely different - different construction, different variation on the core concept, different stitches - and I haven't liked any of them. I do not want to like my design; I want this project to be as amazing, special and perfect as it is in my head; I want to love it like I have loved no other design.

And that's the problem.

Nothing will ever match the perfection that's in my head. I am now working on the sixth version of my idea and it's coming out really nice. Fact: I sold the second design to a third-party publisher who absolutely loved it. It worked for them in their context - it was totally good enough.

So where does all this stuff and nonsense come from?

Figuring Out Why I Am Being Hard On Myself

I spend a lot of time sitting on my own sketching patterns and charting things. I spend even more time in my own head. As a result I tend to lose track of what is exciting and new because I have already thought through my designs several times and spent hours swatching my ideas. It's easy to start talking myself down because at this stage I will have lost sight of what excited me about the original ideas.

Here's the thing that I keep reminding myself:  nobody else will ever be that jaded about my design. No one else have been through the entire process of initial idea and swatching through pattern-writing and wailing about numbers to blocking the sample and arranging photo shoot. No one will ever be able to say anything about my design that I haven't already thought.

I also know that  once the design is finished and published, I will adore it to bits .. because by that stage I will been knee-deep in another pattern that's sucking the will to live out of me! I am only halfway joking..

So, Some Tips For Moving Beyond Perfectionism

• Acknowledge to yourself that you have a bad bout of perfectionism. Admitting it is the very first step!
• Realise that you will always be your own worst critic.
• It's better to publish something than nothing.
• Take baby steps. Publish a hat if you are really afraid your latest cardigan pattern isn't good enough.

Some Other Tips:

• Never throw out a design. What you hate today will look amazing two months from now.
• If a design really doesn't feel right for what you are doing, consider other ways for it. Would it make a great pattern for a magazine? Self-publishing? Perfect as a freebie included in your news letter? Can you base a class around the pattern - maybe that hat is perfect for teaching Magic Loop.
• Try playing around with different gauges. If your idea looks silly and stupid in fingering weight, try swatching it in worsted.
• Reach out to trusted friends and peers. Show them a photo or a swatch. Ask for their honest opinion. Listen carefully to their feedback.

Do you have problems with perfectionism? Does it stop you releasing patterns? How do you deal with it? I'd love to hear your thoughts x

Books & Wool, But Of Course

I gave away about 80% of my books when I left Denmark and I can still see ghosts on the shelves, though I merged my collection with Dave's when we started living together. So many books.

Reading my 2006 blog posts I sounded so cavalier about culling my book collection:

"Red is for never again, never, no, it is so replaceable and it was fun but now the thrill has gone

Yellow is for what a lovely edition, I’ll never find it again and my library wouldn’t be complete without it.

Green is for of course, without a question, it’s part of me and good memories of dear ones.

I may not have a driver’s license but I have many books. I’m putting tiny stickers on their backs: red, yellow, green. So far at least 100 books have been marked with red: Borges*, Jonathan Safran Foer, Ian McEwan, DH Lawrence*, Jane Austen, Thomas Mann* and, er, Marion Zimmer Bradley. The yellow category is the difficult one. Which of Margaret Atwood’s works are yellow and not green? Should I put a bright yellow sticker on John Ruskin or is that a red (because I’m sure there’s a nicer edition out there)?

As I go through my books I realise I’m a flirty reader. I pick up books, break their hearts & spines and drop them cruelly. So many books I never finished: Anita Brookner, Iris Murdoch, James Kelman, Samuel Butler and John Barth. I’m so sorry but it’s not you, it’s me.

And the green books. My friends, my family. Alasdair Gray, Jonathan Coe, AS Byatt, John Donne, Vladimir Nabokov, Philip Pullman, Ezra Pound and EM Forster. I pet you gently and remember when I first encountered you. You are in my blood. You are going nowhere.

*victims of the bad edition rule"

And so we're back to 2014. Still so many books and they are not alphabetised. Fret.

Speaking of books, I am currently reading David W. Anthony's The Horse, the Wheel, and Language: How Bronze-Age Riders from the Eurasian Steppes Shaped the Modern World. It's an interesting look at the Proto-Indo-European language (the ur-language that spawned English, Greek, Hindi, Russian etc) and how PIE is reconstructed following linguistic rules. Anthony also looks at words and concepts that are found throughout the descendants of PIE. Words relating to wagons and wheels, certain types of animals and - relevant to my working life - textiles.

Anthony traces the possible origin* of the word wool - *HwlHn- as PIE contains roots for sheep, ewe, ram and lamb. He argues convincingly that these linguistic fragments point to a domestication of sheep. He also looks at archaeological evidence from Uruk that indicates sheep began being bred for their wool around 3350 BCE. The book then follows the linguistic fragments as they start to spread across the PIE areas. *HwlHn shatters into *Hwel- or *Hwol- .. but the word fragment doesn't always mean "wool". Sometimes it means "to felt", "something made of felt/wool", "to press" or "to weave". Anthony even looks briefly at whorls and spindles. Most of the book is devoted to horses and wheels (as the title indicates) but I did enjoy the dip into textiles. I'm now settling into a section on Neolithic farming in the Caucasus. As you do.

PS. Lots of people have posted pictures of their bookshelves (shelfies?). Do join in!

A Month Ago: Unwind Brighton

Can you believe it's been a month since Unwind Brighton - that magical yarn event which felt more like a rock festival than anything else? No, me neither. So, in honour of Throwback Thursday, I thought I'd dig through my photos and conjure forth some memories.

Shawls at the p/hop stand.

My friend Karen's amazing, amazing bunny dress.

The Eden Cottage stall (before the marketplace opened; afterwards it was pandemonium)

Polo & Co from France

We heart John Arbon's Knit by Numbers DK

And the stunning Triskelion Yarn from Wales

And a pair of knitting geeks comparing mustard/brown shoes

Yeah, I loved Brighton and all the fabulous people I met there.

Pattern: Vintage Moments Hat & Gloves

What a lovely surprise I got this morning. We are having family visiting due to Glasgow hosting the Commonwealth Games and as soon as they left for another day of sports, I sat down to check my inbox. And then I started giggling. I just got my first cover, folks, and I had no idea it was happening.

Several months ago, I was approached by the lovely people at Let's Knit magazine. They commissioned me to design a hat/gloves set celebrating my Scandinavian heritage. I also did an interview with them talking about my family background, how I got into designing, and why I am passionate about getting other people thinking about crafts.

And I started out sketching my design.

I was watching a film from the early 1930s when the initial idea came to me, so I knew I wanted a 1930s colour scheme. I had just finished working on a big colourwork project so I used the left-overs for the swatch but I already knew the green wasn't quite right. I needed a cooler seafoam green. Next came the idea to do very, very straightforward colourwork. I picked some of my favourite motifs and played with them until I had some simple, fun motifs I could scatter across my canvas. I drew upon my knowledge of Faroese knitting which is more geometric than Shetland colourwork - and I ended up with something that was super-cute and super-fun .. even for people who are not that confident at colourwork.

I was very lucky that my Let's Knit editor was onboard with my ideas very quickly and knew what I meant about getting the right colours. Sarah suggested looking at Jamieson's Spindrift which is a wonderful British yarn that comes in a myriad of colours. I have used Spindrift before and it knits up beautifully. The pattern only uses three colours, so working out a colour scheme is relatively easy.

Let's talk colour substitution. I would suggest looking at it the following way:

Neutral Background - make sure to match this colour in terms in warm/cool undertones. My sample used Pebble, a white with a cool, grey undertone

Main Contrast - make sure to choose something that makes a statement as it'll dictate the overall look of the knit - the sample used Eucalyptus, a cool seafoam green with a grey undertone

Second contrast - make sure this matches the other two colours but make sure it doesn't take over the entire look - the sample used Sorbet, a cool mid-range pink with a grey undertone.

Here is a warm version (using Granny Smith, Lipstick and Mooskit) - it feels less vintage and more playful:

Or maybe a slightly more modern colour scheme?  You will still get the contrast  but with a dark background (Yellow Ochre, Eesit and Shaela):

The colour combinations are endless. This is partly what I love about colourwork - you get to paint with yarn.

I cannot help but feel that autumn is on its way - I am utterly delighted to have secured the cover of Let's Knit and I can see many other new patterns are heading out into the world right now. I love this time of the year.

Some Thoughts on Blogging, Identity & Safety

Blogtacular led a discussion on twitter yesterday about online privacy and safety. I shared a few thoughts but want to expand upon them here. Get coffee. It's a long one.

I started blogging around 2001. I did not use my real name; I did not post pictures of myself and the only clues to my identity were these: I lived in Copenhagen, Denmark and I was female (I used the nom de plume "Ms Bookish"). My then blog was fairly straightforward: I mostly wrote about books and the contemporary literary scene. Around 2004-2005 my blog had become a professional tool and I was widely engaged in the literary blog scene working with publishers and authors. However, I was still completely anonymous.

And then I began noticing a pattern.

One particular blog commentator, Martin (not his real name), left comments on every single blog entry I made. After a few weeks he began sending me emails expanding upon the comments he had left me. So many emails. I didn't read them after a while. Something felt totally off about the guy and, really, I was too busy.

Then I attended a blog networking event and Martin was there. He had presents for me and cornered me. How did he know I would be there? And how did he recognise me? I started to feel really uneasy. Martin started leaving seriously whacked-out comments on the blog and, creeped out, I decided to check my emails from him. Well, they weren't good.

Martin knew when I had been out doing my grocery shopping and he had watched me bike around Copenhagen. It got worse: he wanted me to have a nervous breakdown so he could take care of me, he thought I had an artificial leg (and wrote in great detail about how my prosthetic turned him on), he thought I was leaving him clues on my web site professing my great love for him, and so forth. Gross, bad, awful stuff.

Then I came home to find Martin standing on the other side of the road. You can probably guess what happened next.

By now I had documented as much as I could. I had saved every email and screen-capped blog comments. I passed all this information to the police and stayed at friends' houses while the police managed to sort things out. I know Martin got psychiatric help but apart from one letter (which his psychiatrist had told him to write) I never heard from him again. I was able to move on from the incident because I knew I had just been a random victim: Martin didn't know me; he just knew I was female and I read a lot of books. Classic case of erotomania.

I learned some valuable lessons from this:

• You cannot control how other people read what you write online. I had not peppered my literary blog with hidden clues for Martin to follow. That was his mental illness talking. I was not responsible for how he chose to interpret my posts.
• It is very, very hard to stay anonymous online and there are many ways of finding out your identity. Martin got my name from somewhere (probably from looking up who registered my blog domain) and managed to track my address very quickly. He also had access to my financial records thanks to his job, so he could find out where I did my grocery shopping and where I liked to hang out. People also talk: my neighbours let private things slip to a guy who seemed nice and harmless. Things like the fact that I was single and that I was living on my own.
• Document everything. I let some of our early interaction slip through my fingers which I regret as I may have been able to stop him sooner.

And then I decided to take ownership of my identity. I began using my real name and posting photos of my face.

I had spent years trying to lock down information about myself online and had convinced myself I was keeping myself safe that way. In actual fact, the only real way to stay safe is to step out there and say "Hi, I'm Karie Westermann and this is what I look like." There is freedom and power in that statement: it is my identity and (unlike anonymity) nobody can take that away from me.

Furthermore, when I hadn't shown my face on my blog and Martin still recognised me, it was very scary and I felt utterly powerless. He knew what I looked like despite all my efforts. Nowadays I have my face splayed all over the internet  and it's my choice. Occasionally I get recognised by someone who's knitted one of my patterns or who follow me on Twitter - and I am totally cool with that.

Being a craft professional actually means that I write a lot more about my life online than I ever anticipated. And that brings me to another point.

For me, there are three spheres: private, personal & public. I keep the private sphere to myself - everything else may be blogged.

I don't write about family or friends. That would be rude and intrusive. I write about some personal things - like the fact that David & I celebrated our 9th anniversary yesterday (and if you've kept an eye on the timeline -  yes, Dave played a big part in helping me deal with my stalker) - but I sift through them carefully as personal details can quickly get self-indulgent. And then there's the public stuff like blogging about an event - where you should totally come say hello to me.

Interestingly the Martin story stayed off my blog for a very long time. I didn't think it relevant material, though I did write a few pieces about cyberstalking for magazines. It was too private a story for many years and has only just recently become a personal story that I occasionally allude to. And now I am finally writing about it under my own name on my own blog.

Anyway, the best way to stay safe online is to act like you would offline. Oh, and keep in mind that the Martins of this world are few & far between.

• Don't announce where you will be on your own.
• Don't overshare.
• Don't post anything you don't want the postman or your boss knowing.
• Respect other people's right to privacy
• If in doubt, don't do it/don't post it.
• What happens online can quickly spill into offline life.
• Don't forget you will always have an audience (even if you think you don't). Act responsibly.

Taking Stock

Just over a fortnight ago I waved goodbye to my part-time job with Rowan Yarns. It took me a few days to get used to my new routine and, crucially, having more time to do my own work. There was some initial panic (which briefly me led to consider an art school degree!), then my stomach settled down, and I got on with work.

Right now I am working on winter designs - both commissions and my own work. Publishers tend to work around 4-12 months ahead, so I have been knee-deep in Christmas things since April.

I find myself marvelling at how quickly I get through work when I now have long sustained periods of time on my hands. My working routine used to be stop-start-stop-start. Things that used to take weeks now take just days. I can get through my all my emails in one fell swoop rather than take days to reply to queries.

No matter where I go or do in the future, I think I have already learned important lessons about how my working week needs to be organised. In short: I had no idea just stressed I was until now - I need sustained periods (not pockets) of time to feel energised.

In other news, I met up with the most excellent Louise Scollay of Knit British. We went to The Queen of Purls before settling down for a good, long chat at Mono. We are both advocates of a more thoughtful approach to knitting: it is not a blinkered, parochial passion where we shout "you MUST  knit British!" but rather a desire to make people think about where their yarn is produced, how it is processed and what stories they are telling via their knitting needles. We also discussed future plans (thanks for the enthusiastic shrieking, Louise!) and exchanged thoughts on the British knitting community. All good stuff.

This weekend I am heading across to Edinburgh for the inaugural Indieburgh Yarn Crawl - it's another exciting addition to Edinburgh's line-up of knitting events. Actually, I am a bit of a spoilsport as I won't really be doing the yarn crawl as much as I am meeting up with a future collaborator/editor. Okay, I may be doing some yarn crawling too. The three shops taking part are: Ginger Twist Studios, Kathy's Knits and Be Inspired Fibres - GTS is colourful and vintage-inspired, Kathy's centers on locally sourced yarns, and Be Inspired is high-end luxury yarn. It promises to be good.

Not long to go until Unwind Brighton either! My class on Continental Knitting is sold out, but there are a few spaces left on the Beading class and the Beginning Crochet class. I am still overwhelmed by the sheer quality of the line-up: Bristol Ivy, Kirsten Kapur, Carol Feller, Asa Tricosa, Olga Buraya-Kefelian .. and that is just the start of it. The vendor line-up is also unbelievable AND there is the PomPom Seaside Shindig featuring John Arbon DJing. I'm still wanting to sew myself a new dress for the event (Brighton Frock, anyone?) but time is running out. Ahhhhhh, so excited about being part of what promises to be an absolutely amazing event. Huge thank you to Dani Sunshine of Lionness Arts for organising everything.

So, it's all good and I still cannot believe that this is my life now.