When I think of fiber craft, my first thought is not civil disobedience….a platform for protest and resistance. Of course there are famous examples of just such a platform, such as the spinning of thread by Mohandas Gandhi. His point was not only that it called upon tradition, but that it helped in the boycott of all British goods (including cotton fabric) and added pressure for independence.
For many of us in the US, the “pussy hat” was worn over the last 4 years as a symbol of resistance to the election and then policies of Donald Trump. It also was a symbol of support for women’s rights (and human rights) as well as the standard bearer for an organization dedicated to getting out the vote and providing masks in the Covid era. The pattern for the hat was developed not only as a hand knit, but crochet and machine knit as well as woven. It was translated into multiple languages including Persian, Turkish, Italian, Polish, French, German and Danish. Bruce and I wore ours to the march in Boston held the day after Trump’s inauguration, along with thousands of others there and in cities all across the world. I was very proud to have knit one for my state representative who proudly wore hers as she spoke to the assembled protestor/resistors.
This photo by Tom Eytan was taken on a flight from Los Angeles to Washington, DC of people on their way to participate in the march held on the National Mall, January 2017.
Earlier this month my friend Josefin Waltin tagged an article from the magazine Hemslöjd that talked about a different kind of resistance — one weaver’s statement about her opinion of the pastors of the Laestadian Lutheran church as well as her opinion about her weaving. Pointed patterns (even pointed hats) were said to be places where the devil could reside, and in furtherance of a life closer to God, more simple and less sinful, the preachers told the Sami people that plain bands were more appropriate. Maria Keinil, a master weaver, quietly disagreed, and wove exquisite tone-on-tone bands for her shoe laces. Without the sharp color contrasts, they bypassed the notice of the pastors, but were obvious to members of the congregation who recognized their exceptional beauty and her obvious skill.
All of these examples are about more than resistance. They also are about pride. Pride of tradition and history. Pride of self. Standing up for what you believe in, but making that statement through craft, by hand, and often quite beautifully.
Maria’s spectacular weaving caught my eye because I’ve been a bit obsessed by inkle and card-woven bands of late.
I’ve now had the opportunity to try the plain inkle, manipulated warp (Baltic style) and a couple varieties of the cards. So far, I enjoy working with the cards best, although setting up the warp seems to have more opportunities for error. All take concentration for setup, but the weaving itself is really calming. For the last week or so I’ve been starting out my day with an hour or so of weaving to set my mood for the rest of what happens.
There has been a lot of talk about cultural appropriation of late. I’d really like to use some of these bands for laces around my winter boots, so I hope that wearing them would be a sign of appreciation rather than appropriation. They are so lovely and decorative that I want to use them everywhere. In one of the classes I took a weaver had been using hers for mask extensions; taking a short length, adding two buttons, and hooking the mask elastics over the buttons rather than over the ears. I haven’t tried it yet, but apparently nurses like them because it takes strain off of their ears, and the masks stay more firmly in place. Seems like a good idea!
I’m really grateful that at the moment my crafting is for its own sake rather than to make a point. It is nice, however, to know that those things we make by hand can have multiple purposes as well as multiple meanings. It is also nice to know that not everyone has to be in on the secret.
Great read Sara, how do you come up with these things? Thanks….