The Heirloom Myth
{pattern: Guilloche pullover}
There is a notion is today’s knitting culture, that has long fascinated me in its romantic optimism: the idea that we are knitting heirloom objects. The narrative is at its most pervasive in the realm of small-batch production yarns, farm-to-skein yarns, yarns with exotic fibre content, or yarns that are otherwise rare or special. Understandably, such yarns tend to be perceived as precious - from the perspective of both pricepoint, and the work that went into producing them. And so the idea of crafting heirloom objects is befitting. We are not carelessly using the yarn on frivolous ephemera that will be worn for a spell, then forgotten. Rather, we are respecting the yarn by creating Timeless Classics, that not only will last us a lifetime but will be passed on to our (oftentimes hypothetical) heirs to cherish.
The sentiment is appealing. But it is also entirely unrealistic. As a professional in the fibre industry, I feel quite comfortable in guessing that very few garments knitted today are destined to become heirlooms. And here are just some of the reasons why.
Wear and Preservation are Mutually Exclusive
Have you ever been to museums, or exhibits, where garments from bygone eras are on display? And wasn’t it magical to look at the clothes and imagine the persons of that era wearing them? Well… rather ironically, they most likely weren’t.
I experienced this as an epiphany of sorts on a visit to an archaeological museum a decade ago. I was looking at a display of Egyptian dress, when I heard a visitor exclaim something like ‘Wow, imagine the women fetching water in this one!…’
And then I heard the curator reply, that actually it was unlikely anyone had worn this particular dress, and if they did it was certainly not to fetch water. That is why it was so well preserved. She then went on to explain that garments which are actually worn on a regular basis never make it to museums, and it is only the unworn or seldom worn ones that survive. This makes it quite difficult to accurately deduce the true dress-style of a civilisation based on preserved artefacts. And it means that our ideas of what people dressed like during basically any era predating snapshot photography, are largely incorrect. The fact is, we will never know what the people of those eras actually wore. Because their most typically and most frequently worn garments did not survive to tell the tale.
Bringing this back to knitting: Even the most impeccably crafted, durable garment is unlikely to fulfil the expectations of being an everyday staple for the knitter, and then survive in sufficiently good condition to also be passed on as a heirloom. In the present-day knitting culture, this dichotomy is further exacerbated by a coupe of other factors.
Current Trends in Fibre Content Are Not Conducive to Longevity
For the past several decades, there has been a consistent trend toward yarns with an increasingly softer and smoother feel, leading to the favouring of merino, cashmere, and alpaca blends, over fibres with rougher textures. Even among the more ‘rustic’ wools, manufacturers have tried their best to meet the customer demand for softness, by favouring lambswool over mature sheepswool, and by being more meticulous in removing the coarser ‘guard hairs’ that naturally occur in certain breeds’ fleeces.
But of course there are benefits and drawbacks to everything. And one important benefit to these-called ‘rough and scratchy’ wool that has become comparatively unpopular these days, was its durability. And so in making yarns more luxurious in feel we have also made them less durable. A cashmere or merino-blend sweater worn on a regular basis, no matter how carefully, is unlikely to survive more than several years - let alone a lifetime - of wear, and let alone in sufficiently good condition to be passed on as a heirloom.
Current Trends in Knitting Tension Are Not Conducive to Longevity
Have you ever worked from vintage (pre-1980) garment knitting patterns? If so, you may have noticed that the gauge indicated in these older patterns tends to be considerably tighter, than a present-day pattern would state for the same yarn weight.
This is perhaps at its most noticeable with fisherman sweaters. For example, it is not unusual for a mid-20th century traditional Scottish gansay instructions to call for DK-weight yarn, worked at a gauge of 32(!) stitches per 10cm, on 2mm needles. Today, a stylistically similar pattern using DK weight yarn would typically be made at a gauge of 22 stitches per 10cm, on 3.5-4mm needles. That is an enormous difference in tension, in the sense that today’s knitters tend to use considerably looser tension, and thus produce considerably looser-knit fabrics than was typical in the past. And put simply: the looser a fabric is knit, the less durable it is.
So whereas the stiff-as-a-board fisherman gansays and cabled arans of decades past were crafted to withstand decades of wear, today’s more drapey and flowing variants decidedly aren’t.
{pattern: Timepiece Cardigan}
Even ‘Timeless Classics’ Are not Trend-Immune
Let’s play a visualisation game, whereby we picture some timeless classics. Ready? In your mind’s eye, conjure up the following:
The Little Black Dress
The Aran Cable Sweater
The Simple Grey Cardigan
Chances are, you have pictured each of these garments according to present-day stylistic trends. And that in fact if you were handed a garment in each of these categories from a couple of decades ago, you would consider it dated rather than classic.
To offer some personal examples:
I have a Little Black Dress from the 1980s. It has batwing sleeves, and a very loose torso tapering down to an overly narrow, short skirt. The result somehow manages to look both too stuffy and too skimpy, by today’s standards.
I have a Simple Grey Cardigan from the early 2000s. It is an awkward lower-mid-hip length, and the highly-elasticised hem pulls in, in a way that looks extremely dated and unflattering by today’s standards. As much as I would like to wear this ‘classic,’ it simply looks wrong.
I have a genuine Aran Cable Sweater from the late 1950s. It is hard to put my finger on exactly what is wrong with it, but oh my is it ever. The neckline and cuffs are very tight, and the sleeves look too wide in proportion to the bodice. Also, the fabric above the hem folds in a way that creates artificial belly-rolls. It looks beautiful when flat-laid, and yet profoundly hideous when worn.
While the word ‘timeless’ is often applied to design in order to stress its classic nature, in reality there is no such thing. Time exists. And therefore design is inherently time-stamped. The Little Black Dress, the Aran Cable Sweater, the Simple Grey Cardigan, and all the other ‘classics’ are re-imagined for each generation.
It is also important to recognise, that even we who consider ourselves immune to trends, really aren’t. While we might not chase the latest fashions, the general ‘vibe’ of our era does subtly inform our preferences for fit, silhouette, length, colour, proportion - basically our overall perception of what we consider wearable and flattering.
Will your hypothetical heir actually want to wear your hand-knitted heirloom, even if it does survive long enough to bequeath to them? Chances are, the heirloom will be kept in a drawer (at best).
The idea of knitting heirlooms is romantic, and make no mistake - I too find myself drawn to it.
But I have accepted that it’s a myth. And I do not need it to justify my knitting time, or my yarn-purchasing decisions.
I encourage my fellow knitters to knit what they love, and what they want. To buy the yarn they love and want. And, if they so wish, to support the endeavours of the yarn manufacturers and pattern designers whose work resonates.
As for the question I am often asked, of whether a piece is classic or timeless enough to warrant knitting… I used to have firm answers to these types of things. Then I got older and wised up. Who am I to make that kind of judgment?
If we want a thing to exist, I believe that is reason enough to knit it. Whether it’s timeless and classic, or frivolous and ephemeral, will only become evident in retrospect. So, let’s knit it and find out? …And on the bright side, if we nobody wears it, it may even survive to become a museum piece!
