On a sunny Saturday in May, I met with a group of knitting friends -- all of whom I'd met through blogs, either theirs or mine -- in New York. Marilyn and Lars have already blogged about our trip admirably, so I decided to give you a photo gallery. I left my nice camera at home, convinced that I'd smash it against a display of pineapple ramie at Habu and break it, and took instead a crappy little disposable camera. Geez, did my nice camera spoil me: now I know why they are disposable. But here you go.
I started out on the train, disembarking at Penn Station. Whilst visiting the ladies' room, I caught sight of a striking cardigan crocheted out of multiple colors of teeny-tiny skinny yarn. Surely it was... Kathy!
[Please forgive the poor photographic skills. Alas, I am no Franklin.]
We joined forces and proceeded to Habu. Outside, we found Marilyn and her granddaughter Liz. Liz is way cool and someday will be a tattoo artist. She was extremely good-natured in putting up with us and an overall good sport. This is Liz, looking fetching in a hat at the 9th Avenue street fair:
Next we discovered Lisa and her mother.
What's that, you say? You can't tell which one is Lisa and which one is her mother? It's true: Lisa's mother is extremely, almost infuriatingly young-looking. Little-known fact: she's also a former model. [If you click on the link, scroll down. She's not that young-looking.]
On to Habu, my first time there. Of course, I'm no mere slip of a thing, so I felt like a huge mamoo in there and every time I turned around, I nearly knocked over some precarious display of yarn or handwoven screen, but I triumphed over my American-ness. You could spend all day in Habu, just looking through the skeins of yarn artfully arranged in hanks, feeling them, exploring the unique fibers (pineapple ramie? stainless steel/wool blend?), mixing and matching colors.
We then moved on to Schoolhouse Products, which was an experience of a totally different nature. Lots of commercial yarns, but also some odd lots and coned yarns. Why, here's an odd lot:
I like Lars better nekkid surrounded by yarn in his tub (you'll have to go to his blog for that), but he's awfully attractive here, too.
Lunch was at a delicious Thai place. I got to meet world-famous author and hottie Norah Vincent. Which will prove more conclusively that I met her, the photo of my big old moon face next to her?
or the photo of her holding her book while giving me the finger?
You decide. (Is it me, or does Norah have the longest middle finger in the world? Probably the result of overuse.) Then we were off to the Japanese bookstore, where we encountered a rather disturbing collection of images in various art books -- and I got a Hello Kitty alphabet book for Grace ("Y is for yoga instructor") and a cool men's knitting book for myself. A final stop for coffee and gossip, and the partial meeting of the Wolverinas was adjourned.
Coming soon: More on fit, ribbing, and whatever else comes to me.