man lace

i know that most of the time, when i write about david, i am poking fun or teasing him. i do this in real-time as well—it’s just such an easy way to get one of his fabulous smiles, or even a smooch,
if i’m lucky.

he totally doesn’t deserve such treatment, because the truth is, he wholeheartedly champions things that i believe in, makes our home a splendid and comfortable place to live (in as much as it is possible), and stays as exciting and generous a partner as in our first year together—actually,
even more so. in addition, he does not require that i be anything but ME in order to make us perfect for each other.
i mean, hey—i know a good thing when i’ve got it . . .

and it doesn’t hurt that he loves handknits, and takes care of them as if he made them himself.

so each year for his birthday (which is approaching), i usually give him a set of handmade sox, to replace those that have gone to the grave (or NOT—big hint).

this year is different though—david is turning 40 this year!
i think i am OK with the idea that i won’t be married to a man in his 30s any more, but could someone please tell me where his 30s went??.

and sorry but, socks are just not important enough for this birthday—even handmade ones. even cashmere handmade ones.

now david is something of a technophile—electronics are to him what yarn is to you and me. the sheer variety, the speed with which new products are generated, the delight of essentially great design—all are the drugs that euphoria is made of.

and just as he would never dream of guessing, and buying, what might satisfy my yarn lust, i would never in a million years presuppose that i’d be capable of choosing an electronic gift. ditto for snazzy bike parts—i know he wants a campy carbon crank (stop that—it’s for pedaling!), but when i perused the seemingly infinite selection at one website, i freaked and ran.

so, as much as i wanted to surprise him, i decided we should discuss his gift.
and this was his response:
“um, i think i’m good, actually”
helpful, right?
now most of you don’t know david, but those who do will be howling by now.
for he is . . well . . . a man of few words. very few. most of the time, he prefers to just know what i’m going to say next, and respond by nodding. he’s fond of the economy of mind reading . . .

he did finally divulge that he wanted the newest iPod, the one with the big screen, but that it wasn’t out yet. greeeat! clearly this discussion was going to be like pulling teeth.
anything else, i asked.
no, really, he said, i’m good.
(sounds of me tearing my hair out)

so i turned back to my computer, and he to his, and we worked silently for a while (we share an office—that david made— and our chairs are back-to-back. this is what it looked like the day we moved into it last summer—he built those cabinets).

suddenly he clears his throat.
“actually, Anthony Bourdain, on TV one night, he had on a large scarf that i really liked”

—!!!—my ears perked up.
oh yeah, i say nonchalantly, you mean the one that was like a big square, that he wore in the desert?
“no, more like a regular scarf, only large—really long and fat.”
(this went back and forth for a while—i’ll spare you except to say that, when knitting for a man, it is essential to get through these conversations and glean as many details as possible, while completely wiping your mind of your own taste—JUST LISTEN. many men have extremely exact likes and dislikes, but have a pathetically small vocabulary for describing them, especially in knitting terms).

all that said, this sounded to me like he was talking about a shawl of sorts.
i decided to go there—you never know with david. four years ago, he told me he wanted a poncho, and i said “ok, if you only wear it to home depot and not out with me”. six months later, everyone was wearing ponchos—including him, to home depot.
i remembered that our friend eric in paris has a similar “scarf”—bingo!
yes, said david, exactly like that.

wow. cool! i get to knit a big scarf shawl for my man! it was all i could do to stay in my seat and finish out my work day. that yarn closet wasn’t calling my name—it was screaming it.

you see, i have been toying with the idea of man lace for several years—pretty much for the name alone, i’ll admit it, but also because of the supreme functionality of lace. the structure of openwork fabrics are perfect for the male heating system—they breath, yet provide penty of insulation against the cold due to their ability to trap air, not only in the little holes, but also in the folds of the draped fabric. and they are entirely adjustable. add to that the depths of mathematical ecstasy that lace patterning holds, and you have a nearly perfect match of fabric and temperament.

and yet, how much of it do you really see?
most men shy away from wearing lace like it it made of anthrax.

ok, you’re saying, but aren’t you making a rather huge leap from “big fat scarf” to “man-lace shawl”?? well, yeeesss, but that’s where david comes in. he has unusual taste (he married me for heavens sake). i think i can make this work.

so that night after rooting around in the yarn closet for an hour or so, i came up with 3 or 4 yarn choices—a couple of subtle variegated things, a solid commercial yarn, and a handsome, handspun tweed fingering yarn that was not enough for a sweater, but too much to make socks with. it was, however the perfect amount for a shawl large scarf.

it’s a soft mix of jacob, alpaca, cotton, and some silk noil, fiber purchased at wooster a few years back. it’s very manly, and that’s what he picked.

that night i made a big show of starting the careful swatching.
david, i said, you know this carf will be heavy if i pick a stitch that is too dense. a little openwork (important vocabulary in bold) will make it a lot lighter to wear, and also keep you warmer, because the holes trap air. you can also adjust it so the holes breath more, in case it gets hot.
(long look from david, feeling yarn)
i’m thinking of something like this (i show him several stitch patterns that are, indeed, quite manly, albeit with holes. i do NOT mention the words floral, lacy, pretty, or motif)
alright, he says, as long as it isn’t too open.
no, i say carelessly (and here’s the brilliant part), it won’t be; but you know, maybe this other stitch would be better (showing a highly-textured knit-purl combination)
no, no, he says, actually, i’m good with the first one . . .

so off i go, folks, on a man lace adventure. the original tweed yarn is still being swatched, but then last night i was working on my spades shawl, and i got to thinking that really, a 40th birthday deserves some cashmere, and it would be a LOT lighter.

i broached the subject and i think i caught his interest (oh, really? i should have—the way i shamelessly waved that shawl around and brushed it over his arm, making him feel the fabric).
but then he said “oh, why don’t you surprise me”.
can you hear me tearing my hair?

i am still mulling over the fiber choice—waddaya say—lovingly made handspun or incredible soft cashmere? (remember, i love this man more than i can say)
i KNOW—it’s tough!