Pink is not a colour I normally purchase. In raising two daughters, I have been overly mindful of things like the pink tax, of how often those overpriced pink good are of poorer quality, of the pressure on children to fit into the perceived gender binary (never mind that gender is a social construct, while biological sex is all over the place). So I never thought I’d be buying a skein of virulently pink wool to knit a hat with. But I am! I don’t think I’m going to finish it in time for tomorrow, but it is one I am making because of The Pussyhat Project. I have a friend in mind to gift it to, and with the strong likelihood that the Trump presidency will have a lot of protesting associated with it, I think that it will probably get some wear. If not just ’cause it’s an awesome hat made by me, hee hee. As it were, I already have a cat hat, though the ears are not as pronounced as on the pattern I’m following for this one. If I like how this one comes out, I very likely will make one for myself (though not in pink).
Really though, I have been thrilled to hear about the shortages of pink wool in many major American cities. I have been delighted to see friends deciding to learn to knit so they could make their own hat for the marches. My more experienced knitting friends committed themselves to making several hats to give out spares. Even if I can’t be there physically (outside of being a name worn by a friend going to the DC march), I’m glad that I can be there in spirit, and that I have so many excellent friends doing what they can as well.
But yeah… been keeping my head down today for the most part, glad I’m in a different country. I’d commented on one of my Twitters that I was going to avoid watching the Inauguration, which caused some old biddy to attempt to throw some shade at me for it. I didn’t reply, but it’s had me laughing all day. Let’s see, I don’t really watch television for one. For two, I’m a veteran, which is usually enough right there to shut up those sorts of people. For three… well, not sure I have a third, other than still laughing, ha ha. But more seriously, even seeing images of the inauguration was hitting me hard. I commented to a friend that I felt on the edge of a panic attack; I wasn’t panick-y or anxious, just… my chest was constricting, and it was unpleasant. It happens sometimes, usually without any impetus that I can find. At least they don’t happen often, and it doesn’t seem like one is likely today, so.
Right, back to the knitting. This hat isn’t gonna make itself.