Seduction Socks, No Bull
Last night I finished a pair of socks. They're lacy and sweet. Pink. White. Bits of pale blue.
But this isn't really that unexpected. Or, perhaps, exciting. You see, I have this habit. I'm a knitter. Some might even call it a hobby.
I knit. Often. More than I sew. Less than I breathe. Sometimes this knitting causes wearable items to materialise in the same colour as that ball of wool I bought last week...
These are the third pair I've knitted as a gift and my fifth pair overall. And I'm already a sizable chunk of the way through my next pair. They're gorgeous. Best yet.
They're gonna kick arse.
But this isn't really that unexpected. Or, perhaps, exciting. You see, I have this habit. I'm a knitter. Some might even call it a hobby.
I knit. Often. More than I sew. Less than I breathe. Sometimes this knitting causes wearable items to materialise in the same colour as that ball of wool I bought last week...
These are the third pair I've knitted as a gift and my fifth pair overall. And I'm already a sizable chunk of the way through my next pair. They're gorgeous. Best yet.
They're gonna kick arse.