When you read "knitting fetish" what do you imagine? Something like this?
Because I think of this.
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| Dear God! Where is its head? |
Some knit
fetishists seem to just enjoy the feeling of knit fabric on their skin.
Others take it further...
Mohair—made from the very soft hair of the Angora goat—is popular
though some folks prefer itchy itchy wool.
Aside
from the feeling of soft fabric on skin, the pleasure of which is
easily understandable even if you and I don't take it into the bedroom, a
part of this fetish has to do with hiding the body behind thick fabric.
Sometimes what's sexiest is what we can't see.
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| See? |
Now things start getting weird.
A lot of people go for the whole-body outfit.
Like
some kind of strange cult, these people wrap themselves in knitting.
This is a form of bondage. Sensory deprivation, the heat and stuffiness,
the inability to use ones hands and helplessness: these are all parts
of the knit fetishists' desired experience.
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| Like some strange mediæval flagellant cult...* |
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| ...kneeling in the middle of a craft fair. |
Some even have locks and straps woven into their suits.
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| This is flickr user Oompah1 in his own words: "Locked in place, with a hidden chain woven through the wool. I would
like my wife to hold the key and not to free me until she felt like
doing so - hours, or even days later. I could drink through a straw..." |
I found most of these pictures about a year ago. I
found them strange and fascinating then, also. Of course I've seen PVC
and latex full-body fetish suits. I've seen gimp suits. But something
about these weird knit people, their featureless facemasks... PVC and
latex are shiny like plastic: your mind immediately recognizes that
these materials are artificial. These knit suits—they are strangely
organic.
The strange silence of this video is unsettling enough, the strange squirmy thing she does at the end is horrid.
Around
two months after I first saw many of these images, I found myself spending a few days at my parents' home
for Thanksgiving. My parents never like to turn the heat up very high.
My old room in particular is always very cold, for some reason, so I
always have to pile on the blankets to keep comfortable on chilly
nights. One cold night I had a comforter, two quilts and and old knit
blanket my grandmother made on my bed to keep warm.
In the early hours of the morning I had a dream. I walked into a dim
room and there, sitting on the benches lining the walls of the room,
were dozens of these knit people. Some of them with straps and chains
around their necks, some with hands tied in front of them. Some here
hunched over, others sat straight up, but they were all murmuring
rhythmically, chanting. Aaaa. Aaaa. Aaaa. Aaaa.
As I stepped into the center of the room, suddenly they all snapped their heads up and look at me. Where I assumed their faces were turned to meet my gaze. Their chanting became louder. AAAA. AAAA. AAAA. AAAA. They all stood up and ambled towards me, their chanting ever more frantic, their arms reaching towards me. Horrible. I turned to leave the room but they were behind me too, closing in. AA! AA! AA! AA! AA! AA! AA! AA! AA! AA!
I woke up with a start and threw off my grandmother's knit blanket which I realized was covering my head.
Oompah1's art imagines a world where his fetish is common; a world where these knit people can be seen anywhere and they are considered attractive.
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| "Conditioning." Sounds like a psychologically disruptive cult to me. |
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| And they trick unsuspecting victims into their lifestyle. "But aren't you lucky—choosing to stay here was the last choice you'll have to make!" If that's not horrific I don't know what is. Really. Imagine being in this scenario. |
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| "I can't see or speak. Even breathing is an effort." |
—
These are the mmawu: undead spirits which live in holes in the ground. Periodically, they crawl out of their holes to entertain villagers or punish them for their misdeeds. These knit people come out at festivals in Nigeria. Many village people find them genuinely frightening. These strange faceless knit people represent undead spirits who live in holes in the ground. What do they know that we don't?
Now, every time I see someone knitting, every time I hear the clack of needles or I hear someone talk about how much they love their yarn and their needles and their hobby, I wonder... Do they want to be a knit person?