In no time the friends were sauntering into the local bank to get a loan for their new business, “wearing jeans, smelling of herbs, and armed with Tupperware containers of Mo’s 36 and Sleepytime blends.” They called their company Celestial Seasonings, after co-founder Lucinda Ziesing’s flowername.
But there might be another reason they named it “celestial.” Mo Siegel and John Hay, two of the founders, were avid believers in a new-age bible called The Urantia Book, which followers call “an epochal revelation authored solely by celestial beings.” The book touches upon everything from mind control to a eugenics plot to eliminate the “inferior races” of our great nation.
Today I found out that yarners think crocheting socks is subversive and controversial and I just…on one hand, why the fuck not, I guess yarners are allowed to have their controversies, but on the other, how much time do you have in your FUCKIN DAY??
My main concern is how they would feel but Maggie u know yarn fandom gotta think about something while knitting five miles of stockingnette for a sweater
Look, you can’t just leave it at that, why is it subversive and controversial? *gets popcorn*
I mean, I’m taking this on good faith, and I’m not saying this is my own personal belief. I believe in all crafts.
But…the structure of the stitches and the resulting fabric is pretty different between crochet and knitting. You get different effects between them, which lends themselves to different crafts. And none of the effects of (most) crochet stitches lend themselves naturally to socks. You’re (usually) going to end up with something either stiff and bulky, or full of holes that will Not Feel Good to walk on. Whereas knitted socks will just…BE elastic and comfortable.
Sure you CAN do it. And there are people and patterns that do it well!!
But MOST crochet socks are a bit like calling this a bicycle
I mean… Okay? But people are going to Talk.
But this is BABY controversy, this is nothing. You haven’t even touched on the good shit like RHSS or that time the Olympic Committee dissed us.
Iiiinteresting. So one of those “just because you CAN doesn’t mean you SHOULD” things.
Also I know very little about the yarn fandom except for that bit where a woman had to fake her death and had a nervous breakdown over selling homespun/dyed yarn so like, I already have big expectations.
Was that the one that “died” of leukemia or the one that “died” of lupus, or the one that overdosed?
From what I know of the narrative as it was described to me, I want to say the one that overdosed, but I am intrigued and vaguely concerned that there are multiple distinct individuals the above situation could apply to.
hey umm, what the fuck
the fake deaths thing: indie yarn dyer gets popular, gets overwhelmed by orders, can’t refund money because of shitty bookkeeping, decides faking online death is the only way out.
i’m sure some of them are unintentional rather than premeditated scammers but they’re all still thieving assholes who shouldn’t be running businesses and need to give all the money back.
the olympics commitee: ravelry, well-known knitting (fiber arts in general) site, held a contest they called the ‘ravelympics’ to drum up olympic support then get a cease-and-desist letter for copyright infringement, and the letter said that calling it that ‘denigrates the true nature of the Olympic Games’ and was ‘disrespectful to our country’s finest athletes’
except, you know, ravelry had like 2 million users who all, by nature of ravelry being a website, have basic tech literacy. the social media backlash was so bad that the olympics board had to make 2 official apologies because the first wasn’t good enough.
RHSS: Red Heart Super Saver is cheap Walmart-level yarn. some people hate it because it used to be just really fucking awful and they haven’t bothered updating their opinions. some people hate it because they hate non-natural yarns. some people hate it because they’re yarn snobs(which, btw, comes in two flavors: the disdainful assholes and the people who just don’t see the point if you have the money and don’t indulge yourself). a lot of people defend it because it’s cheap and widely locally available and honestly not that bad after a wash and some fabric softener.
crocheted socks: exactly what kaitoukitty said. people who crochet socks tend to either be new crocheters who are not aware crochet is not the best medium for socks or experienced crocheters who are pushing the boundaries of the medium.
babies on fire: i can’t believe we’re talking about yarncraft controversies and no one mentioned babies on fire. that’s my favorite controversy.
so when deciding what material to make baby blankets out of, in addition to considerations like softness, ease of washing, and allergy concerns quite a lot of people like to consider what would happen to the baby if the blanket was set on fire. yes, really.
wool has the problem of hand-wash only blankets for a new mother (superwash wool exists but that’s a whole ‘nother paragraph), allergy concerns, and also
real fucking expensive if you want quality not-itchy-on-baby-skin wool. but pro-wool-blanket people insist that because wool actually resists being set on fire pretty well and also can self-extinguish, it’s the only sensible choice.
acrylic on the other hand is cheap and you can throw it in the washing machine, and while bad quality acrylics might be stiff and plastic-y they’re not itchy, but if it gets set on fire it will melt onto the baby’s skin. pro-acrylic people insist that if your blanket is on fire, you probably have bigger problems than what the blanket is made of.
wow I didn’t expect such a detailed response. thank you!
i understand that white ppl feel anxiety about messing up around poc… you should because that’s what it means to start holding yourself accountable. i’m not saying it should rule your life. if it does, that’s something for you to reflect on and solve, not the poc around you
i don’t think (many) white people will ever understand the anxiety that we feel when we start being a little less stringently polite when talking about racism, when we name actions that maybe white people close to us know they’ve done. we live with this fear inside us that we’re being to aggressive, that if we even name our abuse, we ourselves, are doing something wrong, that the people in our lives will turn on us for demanding respect
this is why woc talking about such sensitive topics are not a teaching moment for white people. it’s something you can’t simply understand with your own bubbling anxiety and desire to be a good person clouding your judgment. it’s not the time or place to teach or talk, when woc reflect on the specific trauma that comes from leftist spaces, from the white women who position themselves as our allies but fail to do the necessary self reflection that allows them to treat us with respect and dignity
if you see a post detailing trauma & abuse from you, not the individual, but the group you are nevertheless a part of (white people, white women), sometimes the only action you can take is nothing visible. your input, your “help,” your “uplifting,” your whatever, is not needed, and only derails the conversation. conversations about healing, catharsis, shared experiences for woc; they’re not supposed to be a warning to white people. they’re for us. we shouldn’t have to be thinking about, catering to, worrying about you in these conversations.
i’m not saying you must avert your eyes and never read these things. only read them.
read & reflect & think about how you can become a better person rather than what you can do to make sure you appear a better person. sometimes the only absolution for what you’ve done will come in the will to change yourself
i know that not everyone clicks on the source, and i talk way too much in the tags, but the ww reblogging this really need to consider my tags:
i don’t want to think about the fact that you’ve been doing this before and want to remind yourself how easy it is to treat us badly (wtf). the entire point is you need to do more silent contemplation. it’s distressing for a number of reasons i can’t fully name and shouldn’t have to, but mostly i don’t want to worry whether my posts are enabling you to think you can keep separating yourselves from other white people. don’t treat us as scions of knowledge living on a mountaintop rather than real women who are just tired and want some fucking peace
When I was sixteen, my family visited Hawaii, and I had a cute new swimsuit. I was a pretty busty teen, with the vocabulary of an AP English student, and while I was out swimming, a couple of college guys started flirting with me. Nothing gross, just pleasantly casual hey-you-look-great-how-are-you-enjoying-the-beach stuff.
After a minute or two of this, one of them asked if I was there with friends, and I said no, I was with my family. “Wow, you still travel with your family?” one exclaimed. “That’s cool…”
“Well, I am sixteen,” sez me.
Reader, they blanched. They flustered, they apologized, they assured me that they’d thought I was also in college, they wished me a good vacation and they bounced. All within about a minute of realizing they’d been chatting up a minor.
I was mildly mortified at the time, but now? I look back and think, Ah, what good men. What good young men.
A few years ago my friend was doing a lessons for a martial art. She was always someone that looked older than she was (she finally grew into the age she looks after another ten years lol), in her face, in her figure, the whole look.
She got along great with her fellow trainees, in particular this one dude whom she couldn’t pick the age of (tall, lanky, could’ve been anywhere between 16-20), until one day he invited her to a party that weekend.
“Hey, you seem pretty cool, are you doing much this weekend? It’s my 21st, we’ll be having a really good time.”
She looked at him funny and replied, “sorry, I can’t. I’m still in school.”
“that’s cool, what are you, a senior? Are you excited for college next year?”
“No, I’m a freshman. I’m fifteen.”
Dude takes a /huge/ step back.
He flounders, stumbles, before getting out “oh, well, maybe not then.”
But after the shock, he was fine with it. They were still friends after that, but it never went beyond the dojo, and he had very obviously put down those seemingly obvious lines in the sand of “dude she’s fifteen and a minor”.
It’s in the hands of the adult to treat minors like minors.
Listen, I’m a feminist. I’m well versed in the way men treat women, especially young women and minors, to groom them into becoming co-dependent and reliant on them. I know this song and dance well from having seen it happen to my own friends and from reading the experiences of many women on this site who let an older man woo them when they were young and it cost them years of suffering in an abusive relationship.
Bearing this in mind, when I was 15 I volunteered for a 3-week program as a camp counselor for a summer camp for disabled children. Because some of these kids had such intense needs, they had about 1 counselor for every 2 kids. What they actually did though, was pair up us volunteers in groups of 2 and together we looked after 4 kids. My partner and I were assigned 4 children to take care of together. I had to spend all 3 weeks with my partner by my side. We did everything together. Taking the kids to the bathroom and changing their diapers. Feeding them. Dressing them when they got dirty and had to use their extra change of clothes. Playing with them. Chasing after them. Rocking them when they cried. Everything. 7 hours a day, 5 days a week. Taking care of non-verbal autistic children and children with down syndrome is so incredibly difficult. I loved every second of it, but I know damn well would never have made it through those 3 weeks without my partner to shoulder the responsibility with me.
On the first day, I noticed how the camp organizers had paired up male and female volunteers with each other. I also took note of how the group dynamic worked. What I mean is, they didn’t assign 4 kids to every pair of volunteers and then have all of us stick together as a group and take care of the kids together. No. The volunteer pairs and their kids were sectioned off and sent to do separate activities in different rooms. Every 30 minutes or so we rotated. They did this because they wanted us to develop a special bond with “our kids” as they called them. A lot of special needs kids have a hard time getting used to new people, and many of them hated being in rooms with lots of people because it over stimulated them, so the organizers felt it would be better for them overall if we kept to our little units of 6. This meant I was alone, for seven hours a day, with my partner and our kids and the occasional check in of “how are you guys doing?” From one of the adult staff members.
I’m not an idiot. Being alone with my partner for long periods of time + we’re working together to accomplish a very difficult task + teamwork + the little inside jokes we developed + the fact it kinda felt like we were our own little family unit + my partner was very handsome and sweet and interesting to talk to + I’m a young impressionable teenage girl = I’m gonna have a crush on him one way or another. I honestly felt like I was in some sort of fanfiction. I loved being around him and working with him and I thought about him when I was at home and even though the kids took up a lot of our time, by day 4 we pretty much had our groove down and were working seamlessly together.
Now here’s the thing. The minimum volunteer age was 15, by there was no maximum age limit. We had to go through intense background checks and interviews to see if we qualified for the demanding task. Because of the difficulty of what we’d be doing, they chose mostly college age kids and people in grad school who were using the camp as training credits to become occupational therapists. My partner was one of these. He was a 26 year old man who needed so many hours of hands on training to qualify and get whatever credentials he needed, idk. On the first day, we knew each other’s ages. I would often talk to him about highschool and my worries for college and he would laugh and tell me “this is what college is really like” blah blah. He talked about his past girlfriends with me. I told him I’d never had a boyfriend. He said being in a relationship is wonderful and told me I should definitely get a boyfriend. He told me if he had to guess my age he’d say at least 20. I reminded him that I was 15 and he said “I know, but you’re just so mature”. He flattered me often, seemed really engaged when I rambled and ranted about my interests. We had all sorts of things in common. We talked about videogames and anime and music and shared memes after we exchanged phone numbers. He started texting me after hours and saying how he thinks of me as his equal and how we’re actually the same me and him. How it’s such a shame I’m still in highschool because he really wishes I’d go over to his place and hang out and meet his friends. How it’s kinda crazy but he might have a little crush on me.
I loved it. I knew exactly what he was doing. I say the signs from day 1. I knew it was wrong and dangerous (and maybe that was part of the allure). “He’s grooming you. He doesn’t care about you. He’s using you” I’d tell myself. “But is he though?” I’d respond. “He’s different. He treats me so nice. He flattered me. He listens to me. He thinks we’re equal, he said so!” And on and on I’d fight in my head. I’d seen it happen before. I knew he wasnt safe to be around but I was so head over heels for him I didn’t listen to my better judgement.
Eventually, our time at camp came to an end. The last week was rough. Instead of listening to me, he started talking over me and putting down my ideas. He started telling me what to do and brushing off my suggestions. Once, one of the kids ran off while we weren’t looking. He loves see saws so I suggested we check the park. He told me I was being stupid. Obviously he went back to the bubble station that he cried at. I’m not thinking straight and I should just listen to him. He wasn’t at the bubble station. We went to the see saw. He was happily sitting still on it without another kid to sit on the end. My partner told me I was stupid for not defending my position better otherwise he would have believed me and gone to the see saws first. I actually felt bad about myself after that. I honestly blamed myself for his stupid ego. The week progressed with more things like that, just him putting me down and making me feel small and unheard. But he would always follow up with a joke or a hug or “you mean a lot to me you know”, so it wasn’t that bad right? Things finally ended when, at the end of the last day, he invited me over to his place. He said he was having a party to celebrate the end of the 3 weeks. His friends would all be there and he was also inviting some of the other volunteers. I told him I wanted to, but couldn’t because my mom was coming to pick me up. He insisted that I go and just text my mom not to come get me or that I was going to a friend’s house. I said I couldn’t she was already on her way. Back and forth he thought of every excuse, getting increasingly angry, and at one point even walking up to his car, opening the door and gesturing for me to get in. I was almost in tears at this point and had to say no. I asked him (practically begged him) to forgive me and maybe we could meet up next week? Or this weekend even? I still want to be with you I told him. He said something about how I was a selfish bitch and he thought we were friends. “Maybe we could have been more than friends… But I guess not.” Then he drove away.
As the other volunteers were leaving I said goodbye and then asked them if they were going to his party. I was hoping that I could convince the ones that were going to talk to him for me. But none of them knew what I was talking about. Apparently none of them had been invited. I tried texting him over and over, but he wouldn’t answer and to this day had never made any contact with me.
I found out later from one of the other volunteers I was friends with (and who’s brother went to the same University as him and had him in one of his classes) that the next day my partner had complained loudly to his guy group that he’d been robbed of “some fresh teenage pussy” and it’s “so hard nowadays to find girls that aren’t bitches”.
After that I cried and called my best friend, who I hadn’t talked to the entire time cause it was summer and she was in Europe with her family, and told her everything. It only took a few sentences from her to make me see what a fucking idiot I’d been. I couldn’t believe how stupid I was acting. How could he have possibly done that to me? Made me feel so loved and safe when I knew better?
My point in saying all this is: we’re vulnerable. Minors are just kids. We’re stupid and vulnerable. I knew and recognized the signs of grooming and I STILL fell for it. I saw what he was doing to me, how he was acting and I still tried to defend him in my mind. I still tried to imagine us together. I still felt bad and blamed myself when he stopped talking to me.
Now take a second and imagine if I wasn’t a feminist. If I hadn’t seen this happen before to my own friends. If I had never read about the experiences of other women online. If I wasn’t more emotionally aware (or at least, for my age). If I couldn’t pick up the subtleties of his words and actions. If we had spent more than just three weeks together. If he had had more time to wear me down and make me doubt myself. If my mom hadn’t come pick me up or if I didn’t have such supporting friends who knew better when I didn’t. Imagine if I was just as naive and vulnerable and innocent as the average teenage girl, because adults never teach girls the signs to beware or the men to avoid. Imagine I already had low self-esteem to begin with and this handsome man is flattering me and telling me how much he cares, how much he understands, how highly he thinks of me, how mature I am etc.
I’d be gone. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I’d been in his arms and in that car and then in his apartment doing god knows what and who knows if I’d ever be seen again. If I’d ever be back to who I was.
You cannot rely on teenagers to have the awareness to not fall for that stuff. We are innocent and naive and even the ones who had been warned like me still fall through the cracks. It cannot fall on the minor’s shoulders to take action. Adults, you all have a responsibility to find out the age of the person you’re interested in or talking to. He was 26 but he looked 18, he had such a baby face. I still have a hard time determining ages of adults. And I get it. Some kids look older than they are. There are so many guys in my school with beards who look 21 but are only 15. But that is no excuse. It is your job to find out who you’re talking to. If you discover that the person you’re interested in or talking to is a minor, you have to keep your distance. You have to either cut contact or maintain the kind of conservative relationship you would with your boss, or distant cousin you’ve never met or someone it wouldn’t really be okay to get personal with. No matter how mature or aware or smart you think they are. “I’m sure they’re smarter than that. I’m sure they know. I’m sure-” No. Always assume the kid you’re talking to is dumb and doesn’t know anything about you. If you continue to talk to them in a way that is at all mature or romantic, you are deceiving them. Especially if you know their age but don’t tell them yours.
Please, be mindful of this stuff folks. And kids, if you’re in a situation like I was, and you see those signs, run. Run and don’t look back.
Absolutely. 100%. As someone who always looked “older” than my actual age when I was a minor, I encountered this type of stuff more often than I would like to admit.
“A quarter of Hungarians estimated that the world is more than 20% Jewish, and a fifth of British and Polish respondents said so.”
They were off by a factor of 100. About 0.2% of the world’s population is Jewish, according to the Pew Research Center’s Global Religious Landscape study.
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