The other day N mentioned he was culling some old sweaters and asked if I wanted any – of course I did (all of them). And to my surprise, he had a swants-able one in the pile – a forgotten cosy but quite misshapen semi-felted/fulled thrift store find from a few years ago.
I immediately began to cut and sew.
I didn’t follow the official swants tutorial because I wanted to make some interesting shapes with the pattern, and the shoulder seams already conformed to my hips.
And then I impatiently set off for the beach, not quite accepting the fact that you can’t really shoot your own trousers while wearing them.
I love the beach in winter. I love the emptiness and sometimes the ugliness. I love that the surf washes away the ice and snow and sloggy sh*t that prevents you from walking normally and safely on an inland path or sidewalk.
And when I’m at a wintertime beach in a semi-urban area, I can never stop Morrissey’s Everyday is Like Sunday from playing in my head…
So while the day was chilly, but the sun warm, I filled up a thermos, packed up my ass pad and some knitting* and hit a favorite spot while it was at its most opposite of a smooth summery romping ground.
One of those rusty pipes helped hold the camera, but all of my swants photos are shite.
But the swants aren’t – I love them!
Mine are more knickers though – swickers.
The color is truest here – they are cranberry and maroon. The front has a somewhat provocative triangular point – though how sexy can sweater pants really be?
And the back has a squared-off shape not unlike old-timey ass flaps on union suits.
I practically had the beach to myself, but the boardwalk was busy with those just waking up from cabin fever and those who have jolly thick-coated dogs (who must suffer through the hot summers). But no one bothered me – there’s usually a small motley band of panhandlers and nutters who think being unwashed and under various chemical influences is appealing to a woman – but the swants proved an effective repellant!
Perhaps my new cock socks** helped too…
Now I look like the nut-job.
Maybe on a colder day I’d wear these under my swirt…
Now I can’t get everyday is like swants day to the tune of the above out of my head…
*Yeah, still a little too chilly for outdoor knitting – but it was a good place to take photos of it too – coming soon.
**Smartwool, a gift from N. I told him I didn’t need anymore socks, he told me I needed these. He was right. In the few seconds Morrissey leaves my head, cock socks on the rocks repeated chant-like over and over comes in…
ASTITCHMATISM 