Is Pinterest a disease? It must be because I think I’ve caught it.
My obsession with the pretty picture app has moved past simply spending hours looking at images and fervently repinning the appealing ones in a collection of ‘oohs’. Now I want to touch. I want to make. I want to CREATE *thunder lightning*
It started innocently enough with a few recipes (pinned optimistically to a board named ‘Want to Bake That’ which loosely translates as ‘PUT IN MY FACE HOLE’) but as the year’s gone on and as I’ve, Livingstone style, made contact with Original Hipsters my interests have expanded (my debt has too – coincidence??).
I used to love reading and TV shows (I still love reading and TV shows) but now I ALSO love knitting and ballet. Am I 82 or 6? I’m doing an old women’s hobby during the week and prancing around like a little girl every Saturday morning.
Or am I just turning into a … hipster? Like a… a human-hipster werewolf thing?
Put me near a tutu or a craft shop and a CHANGE happens! No longer a mild-mannered journalist, I turn into a bespoke maniac and grab knitting needles and stuff Consol jars into my purse. I compare yarns and practice my pointe and demi-plies. I’M NOT THE SAMANTHA I USED TO KNOW.
The Boyfriend has handled this change admirably and even went to great effort to get me a knitting machine (they don’t make them anymore; he hunted down an old lady who was selling hers. She was a hard bargainer… LOL (little old lady): ‘It is x amount.’ Boyfriend: ‘I’ve only got x on me.’ *crickets* Boyfriend: ‘I guess I’ll go draw money then’ …). He admires my new stitches with loyalty and tells me how cute my bunnies are – my knitting specialty. However, there are moments when this new craft and my complete obsession with it vexes him. Like when we visited Montecasino (a veritable pit of vice, neon lights and children that’ll need serious therapy one day) for an engagement party.
Boyfriend: For the love of God don’t knit in here.
Samantha: We’re here early! I’ll knit before they come!
Boyfriend: *skeptical silence*
Samantha: FINE I WON’T KNIT
I remember a time when I looked at knits and didn’t wonder what stitches they used, or watched ballet and scoffed at how bone-thin the ballerinas were instead of lusting after their perfectly pointed feet. But oh alas, after my ballet exam on Saturday to get into grade two – the level eight year olds dance at – I’m starting to seriously doubt my ability to become a prima ballerina (remember Potato Sam? Yeah, she’s back in full force).
For one thing, don’t prima ballerinas have to remember the moves? ALL THE MOVES? 95% with good intentions just doesn’t quite cut it when you’re dancing at Black Swan level (or so I’ve gathered). Also, what is the ballet policy on wobbling? Are ballerina’s pro-wobbling? Or against? Could I start a petition?
I WANT TO WOBBLE!
I think the Pinterest in contagious because my boyfriend is now making us bedside tables and has started to play vinyls….
Hide your children, because the hipster werewolves are out!