How many out there are on a hunt for the perfect knitting bag? You buy a bag, it’s not bad, it isn’t great, you buy another one. I started out that way too. But one morning, I woke up and suddenly realised the answer to this dilemma. THERE IS NO PERFECT KNITTING BAG. There is only the perfect knitting bag for a particular occasion/context/project/weather/you name it.
How obvious is that when you think about it?
The knitting bag you drag down to the Richmond Knitting Group laden with your finished projects for the week (! Diligent little beavers aren’t we?), not to mention the two unfinished projects you are going to knock off during the course of the meeting and the new pattern book you want to show everybody – that knitting bag – is simply not going to be the same knitting bag you grab as you duck out the door to go down the road for a cup of coffee, needing a little project to suit a little occasion.
The big, sturdy, carry-the-kitchen-sink-in-it knitting bag which holds the long coat you are knitting this winter; the it-doesn’t-matter-how-you-look- it’s-winter-so-it’s-all-about-keeping-warm-knitting bag; the is-it-going-to-rain-tonight?-lucky-it’s water-proof bag – that knitting bag – just isn’t going to be the same knitting bag you step out with in the middle of summer, narry a cloud in sight, looking gorgeous, wanting something to match, with a delicate half-finished tank top in tow, and a ball or two of yarn which might just float away they are so light.
I like Maggie Righetti’s thoughts on how knitting bags should be perceived, but I’m away, trapped in one of the armpits of the universe (as I’m sure The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy would describe Surfer’s Paradise) so that’s for next time when I”m home with my books.