When you grow up in the Hebrides among your tough Harris Tweed-clad menfolk and the smell of wet tweed and feel of rough wool is as familiar to you as your own skin you have permission to mess with it.
The ancient coming together of our island sheep wool in woven and knitted form is an eternal delight for the senses.
In tiny stone homes folk carded the wool and spun it making threads that bound communities of hand knitters and weavers in industry and clothed, as it turned out, the world.
Slamming Harris Tweed fabric up against Harris wool or any other pure wool feels natural.
To be wild with it; to let the ragged edges show, bare, to cut it imperfectly, to cherish tiny pieces of fibres and let them sing a different tune feels like an evolution of our Hebridean spirit.
As an indigenous Hebridean woman taught a traditional craft of our people, playing with our natural fibres makes my heart sing.
I have now finished designing the new INNER WILD knitting patterns template. Joy! And I just wrote up the pattern for this INNER WILD Caledonia Shrug worn by Claire in Outlander. It made me laugh to see how differently the exact same Caledonia Shrug could look! I thought you might appreciate the fun of it …
Stomping our boots on the rocks to shake off the first snow flurries, taking too-quick breaths that burn and tickle our lungs making us laugh and love the way the clean, sharp frosty air makes our bodies feel tingly and zingy. Wrapped in warm and nurturing hand knitted loveliness our hearts are warm too on …
Vibrant emerald green fades quickly to muted dusky brown. Our Hebridean sky becomes more complicated with squally clouds edged in black and orange-red speeding above us. The wind carries wild autumn seeds of Hogweed and Bishop’s Lace that will settle and sow themselves to flower next year. Goldfinches eat the last Self-Heal seeds and sparrows …
As familiar as skin: Harris Tweed
When you grow up in the Hebrides among your tough Harris Tweed-clad menfolk and the smell of wet tweed and feel of rough wool is as familiar to you as your own skin you have permission to mess with it.
The ancient coming together of our island sheep wool in woven and knitted form is an eternal delight for the senses.
In tiny stone homes folk carded the wool and spun it making threads that bound communities of hand knitters and weavers in industry and clothed, as it turned out, the world.
Slamming Harris Tweed fabric up against Harris wool or any other pure wool feels natural.
To be wild with it; to let the ragged edges show, bare, to cut it imperfectly, to cherish tiny pieces of fibres and let them sing a different tune feels like an evolution of our Hebridean spirit.
As an indigenous Hebridean woman taught a traditional craft of our people, playing with our natural fibres makes my heart sing.
Related Posts
Caledonia Shrug: Who wore it better?
I have now finished designing the new INNER WILD knitting patterns template. Joy! And I just wrote up the pattern for this INNER WILD Caledonia Shrug worn by Claire in Outlander. It made me laugh to see how differently the exact same Caledonia Shrug could look! I thought you might appreciate the fun of it …
Winter: frosty mornings and feeling fine
Stomping our boots on the rocks to shake off the first snow flurries, taking too-quick breaths that burn and tickle our lungs making us laugh and love the way the clean, sharp frosty air makes our bodies feel tingly and zingy. Wrapped in warm and nurturing hand knitted loveliness our hearts are warm too on …
Hush now, slip into a heart-warming Autumn
Vibrant emerald green fades quickly to muted dusky brown. Our Hebridean sky becomes more complicated with squally clouds edged in black and orange-red speeding above us. The wind carries wild autumn seeds of Hogweed and Bishop’s Lace that will settle and sow themselves to flower next year. Goldfinches eat the last Self-Heal seeds and sparrows …