Guilty pleasures

The trials and tribulations of knitting a gansey

Okay, so I gave in to temptation. I admit it. But what’s wrong with that, tell me? What shame in that? After all, it’s only a jumper.

Yes, after some days of deliberation, hesitation and procrastination, I finally sat down at the knitting machine and made myself a jumper. And I have to say, I’m rather pleased with myself. And it.

I had forgotten how much work was involved in the creation of a garment. All that measuring, counting, reducing, grafting, making mistakes, fixing mistakes, taking long rests; I was quite worn out by the end of it.

I admit that I did have some help with the more difficult bits. In fact I had quite a lot of help with quite a lot of the bits. Actually, it is probably stretching the truth somewhat to say that I really made the jumper myself. But I was certainly involved in the making of it. And more so than I am involved in the making of most jumpers.

I have been proudly sporting this new jumper (gansey is the Shetland word) all around the isle, showing it off to anyone who is interested. Which unfortunately is nobody. But still, my pride is undimmed, and I have not taken it off in 12 days. I just can’t wait to get the chance to show it off to a wider public. There, I am sure, it will find an appreciative audience.

The more observant and knowledgeable amongst you will have noticed from the picture that I have been very sensible in choosing to use only two colours, instead of the standard plethora of tones. This was partly for reasons of fashion and good taste, and partly because it made my job a huge amount easier. Mainly it was the second reason. The constant changing of wool colours is what makes Fair Isle knitting so much more time-consuming than a plain or two-tone pattern. It also vastly increases your chances of making mistakes. So two colours was plenty for me.

In the course of this task I have discovered that there is something very satisfying about making a piece of clothing for yourself. Like catching your own fish or growing your own vegetables, an involvement with the process increases enormously the pleasure in the result. And believe me, I am very pleased.

Not that I’m thinking of taking up knitting more regularly of course. I certainly am not. This will undoubtedly be the first, last and only jumper I ever make for myself. The knitting machine has been packed up and given back to its rightful owner now, and I shall not be allowing it back in the house again. Even if it asks very nicely. One jumper is quite enough for any man, after all.

I have been wondering about crochet though.

Malachy Tallack is 26 and lives in Fair Isle. He is a singer-songwriter, journalist, and editor of the magazine Shetland Life.
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Inside a shaken city: "I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester”

The morning after the bombing of the Manchester Arena has left the city's residents jumpy.

On Tuesday morning, the streets in Manchester city centre were eerily silent.

The commuter hub of Victoria Station - which backs onto the arena - was closed as police combed the area for clues, and despite Mayor Andy Burnham’s line of "business as usual", it looked like people were staying away.

Manchester Arena is the second largest indoor concert venue in Europe. With a capacity crowd of 18,000, on Monday night the venue was packed with young people from around the country - at least 22 of whom will never come home. At around 10.33pm, a suicide bomber detonated his device near the exit. Among the dead was an eight-year-old girl. Many more victims remain in hospital. 

Those Mancunians who were not alerted by the sirens woke to the news of their city's worst terrorist attack. Still, as the day went on, the city’s hubbub soon returned and, by lunchtime, there were shoppers and workers milling around Exchange Square and the town hall.

Tourists snapped images of the Albert Square building in the sunshine, and some even asked police for photographs like any other day.

But throughout the morning there were rumours and speculation about further incidents - the Arndale Centre was closed for a period after 11.40am while swathes of police descended, shutting off the main city centre thoroughfare of Market Street.

Corporation Street - closed off at Exchange Square - was at the centre of the city’s IRA blast. A postbox which survived the 1996 bombing stood in the foreground while officers stood guard, police tape fluttering around cordoned-off spaces.

It’s true that the streets of Manchester have known horror before, but not like this.

I spoke to students Beth and Melissa who were in the bustling centre when they saw people running from two different directions.

They vanished and ducked into River Island, when an alert came over the tannoy, and a staff member herded them through the back door onto the street.

“There were so many police stood outside the Arndale, it was so frightening,” Melissa told me.

“We thought it will be fine, it’ll be safe after last night. There were police everywhere walking in, and we felt like it would be fine.”

Beth said that they had planned a day of shopping, and weren’t put off by the attack.

“We heard about the arena this morning but we decided to come into the city, we were watching it all these morning, but you can’t let this stop you.”

They remembered the 1996 Arndale bombing, but added: “we were too young to really understand”.

And even now they’re older, they still did not really understand what had happened to the city.

“Theres nowhere to go, where’s safe? I just want to go home,” Melissa said. “I just want to be anywhere that’s not Manchester.”

Manchester has seen this sort of thing before - but so long ago that the stunned city dwellers are at a loss. In a city which feels under siege, no one is quite sure how anyone can keep us safe from an unknown threat

“We saw armed police on the streets - there were loads just then," Melissa said. "I trust them to keep us safe.”

But other observers were less comforted by the sign of firearms.

Ben, who I encountered standing outside an office block on Corporation Street watching the police, was not too forthcoming, except to say “They don’t know what they’re looking for, do they?” as I passed.

The spirit of the city is often invoked, and ahead of a vigil tonight in Albert Square, there will be solidarity and strength from the capital of the North.

But the community values which Mancunians hold dear are shaken to the core by what has happened here.

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