Tag Archives: sock monkey

I am not a sock monkey… I think?

Though I am trying to keep my mouth shut, I’m still angry sad depressed cynical pissed hopping-mad bitter rapidly-aging rabid seething kicked-in-my-imaginary-balls over that house sale f*cked-uppery.

But I will say no more.

Except this:

the rich-watermarked

And excuse the watermark, but I actually spent time modifying that image, so don’t steal it.  I need to work on the watermark thing though, so bear with me and get used to it.

In the interest of further experimentation in the art of procrastination, I thought I would check to see if any of my fibery images have been savagely pirated from webworld.  I know of one on Pinterest (which I’m largely on the fence about, but leaning on the hate side, or perhaps really really hate side) and I don’t really have many readers here, so I wasn’t expecting to find any gross violations.

So I did some Google Image searches by image.

I started with a pic that I’ve had on ravelry for a few years, and I actually loved the results:

Google Images-greys

(I won’t get any bigger with these because I don’t want to commit image gankery myself).

What you can’t quite see is my picture of a grey cowl matching images of owls in tree bark, cathedrals, shaggy dogs, rocks, chandeliers, and even a few other faces and knitted items.  All of the matches relate to color, texture, and shapes in my image.

Another image that I posted a few months ago – and again, I love the matches:

Google Images-yellows

Golden fall foliage, a fish caught in a net, a Byzantine Madonna.

But it failed to tell me that the picture did exist in webworld and was pinned on someone’s Pinterest board and on this blog.  Nothing came up for ravelry either, but I think that has greater privacy settings?

But otherwise, so far so good, no image theft yet.

So I moved on to other images I’ve posted in this blog.


Remember my artsy-fartsy sock monkeys from this post?

Sock monkeys are very popular.

Sock monkeys are everywhere.

Sock monkeys are made with socks and possibly some buttons.

Sock monkeys are for sale.

Sock monkeys are definitely not people (though friendlier).

Google Images-people are monkeys another day

So why dear Google, did my picture of sock monkeys bring up people!?!?!?!?!

If it’s some facial recognition algorithmic magic thing, then fix it ’cause I’m not buying that the ratios and comparative data and secret science are there.

My initial reaction was that this was horribly, horribly, horribly racist since many of the faces appeared to be from people who are not predominately caucasian.  But once I scrolled through more images I saw that it was very much an equal-opportunity free-for-all of people = sock monkeys.

Yes, monkeys are our cousins and they have skulls similar to ours – more similar than that of say a skunk or a horse, but stuffed toys with bulbous mouths that don’t exist in nature?  Knitted texture and only three colors?  No nose of any dimensions?  Eyes made of shoe buttons?  Exaggerated floppy ears?  No eyebrows, eyelashes, head hair, facial hair, (yes, I know some people don’t have that either) bumps, lumps, wrinkles, pimples, scars, beauty marks, or irises for that matter?

So I slept on it – maybe it was a joke.

The next day I tried the same image again:

Google Images-people are monkeys

More people.

And as a bonus, some soaped up ass cheeks.  (It did locate it on my blog though – the monkeys, not the cheeks).

So I tried some more monkey pics – I’ve got oodles of sock monkeys (or perhaps I should call them a troupe or troop).

This was a scan of some vintage monks wearing snazzy outfits made by my great aunt for my brothers:

Google Images-people are monkeys again and again

More people.

At least it picked up on the red.

I had another clearer pic of the same little guys in the first image:

Google Images-people are monkeys again

More people.

Though a couple of pine cones add some nice diversity.

So I thought that perhaps anything resembling two eyes and a mouth would always equate human faces and thus I was just making too much of this.

So I searched with an image of a pie with a face:

Google Images-pie

And I got pies and other foodstuffs for f*cksakes!

So I thought that perhaps there was a sock monkey apocalypse and it will now be up to me to re-populate the planet.

(By sewing of course, not lewd acts with a stuffed sock).

Just to be sure, I searched the term “sock monkeys” in Google Images.

Google Images-the real sock monkeys

What’s this?

Thousands, perhaps millions, of images of sock monkeys?*

There are so many sock monkeys that you can browse by various categories!

So what’s up Google?

Is this a joke?

Is this an evil plan that only you know about and we don’t and we’re about to become a new of Planet of the Apes Sock Monkeys?

Are we actually just a bunch of stuffed socks?

Is walking on a sock an act of torture and murder?

Should I fear my own sock monkeys?

Should I cut some holes in their box for air?

Please tell me.

*(It’s cool that Rebecca Yaker’s sock monk couture comes up right away).


Filed under home decor, knitting, recycling, sewing

Sock monkey

I finally got that sock monkey off my back.


No, not you friends.

Remember this?  My first failure with a very basic pair of socks.  Now I can call them done (after three years).

sox 016 - Copy

I just had to take the ubiquitous shot of hand knit socks with (sorta) high-heeled shoes.  Does anyone actually wear them this way?

sox 021 - Copy

This is my way.  Yes, I know it is approaching frumphood, but practical – hand knits are a little grippier in shoes that slide on and off and clogs, orthopedic as they may be, are the most comfortable footwear for standing and such.

I first learned to knit socks in 2008.  That means I spent at least eight years (let’s just call it a decade) only doing garter stitch and timidly and slowly adding simple hats and a new stitch or two at a snail’s pace.  I can’t remember why I wanted to knit socks – perhaps to fit my mismatched feet, perhaps I thought it was the perfect manageable project to project myself off my lazy knitter’s ass, or perhaps I was talking about it and N encouraged me to take a class – either way I know he paid for it as a gift.  At the time, there was only one LYS in my old neighborhood and it was well, a bit strange.  They carried some gorgeous yarns but only in the worst colorways – way too much pink, bad pink, and some of the high-end novelty yarns… not much I ever wanted to buy.  I signed up for the (over-priced in my opinion*) two-session class, bought a skein of meh sock yarn from the sale bin (and I swear it was the only skein that wasn’t pink or candy-colored in the whole shop) and a terrible set of bamboo dpns that have since broken.  The class was described for beginners with basic skills who wanted to learn basic sock construction which described me.  The first session had four attendees – two of us were there for the stated purpose, one only wanted to learn how to knit entrelac, and one was there purely as a substitute for a therapy session.  (There’s always at least one, right)?  Things got off to a sketchy start – the instructor said we could buy a book with a sock pattern, use class time to download a pattern, or buy her basic pattern for $5.00.  I was annoyed at having to buy a pattern on the spur of the moment, but I thought since she was the instructor, her’s made the most sense to buy and I wanted to cast-on immediately.  So the first session amounted to nothing since none of use could get past a cuff in an hour (and bad teacher, she didn’t suggest making an anklet or child’s sock, and bad me for not thinking of it either)!  The second session (when not of course listening to the sad messed up life of the one attendee or entrelac instructions) was a whirlwind of before-to-me-unknown ssks, gussets, and heal-turnings.  I left feeling frustrated and quite under-taught and not much better off than I was before.  I spent the next few weeks poring over the $5.00 basic sock pattern and slowly churning out a legitimate first sock.  By the second one, I basically had it down and realized the pattern was sh*t and it wasn’t just me – some of the simple numbers didn’t add up and a few crucial instructions were missing.  Shortly thereafter, I was poking around in a big box craft store and discovered the $5.00 basic sock pattern was just a poorly copied version of the free pattern that came on the ball band of Lion Brand Sock-Ease sock yarn.  So, lesson learned I guess?  What lesson?  Um, so N and I wasted some money but in the end in a round-about-way it was the catalyst that got my knitting up to speed.  And the basic pattern I first used is still the one I occasionally reference today only now I carry around the ball band rather than the stupid $5.00 version.

Socks - first

The pair that changed it all, spawned several more, and yes, I do have two pairs of the same shoes in different colors…  I actually have several pairs of shoes in duplicate but for their colors (I mentioned I have mismatched feet, so I embrace acquisitions when the shoe fits).  I prefer fraternal to identical twins in sock making and it is sheer coincidence that the two pictured (my first and latest) happen to be identical in terms of stripe placement, with exception of an additional stripe on the toe of the longer one.

sox 018 - Copy

Yeah, I got me some freak feet.

The socks are bit wonky at the moment since they’ve yet to be washed and were tinked and re-knit.  The yarn is Lang Yarns Jawoll Color Aktion which I’ve loved for its durability but isn’t mentioned on their website and is possibly discontinued???  That would suck though I think I still have some more in the old stash.  It also comes with a spool of matching reinforcing thread which I love but have never used in the three pairs I’ve made with the stuff – I always forget about it!  But it will be good for mending.

And the brownish background fabric?  It will eventually become the backing on N’s shirt quilt.  It’s actually more of a caramel color but my camera sucks and needs to be replaced.  The socks aren’t quite the right color either, but at least they are consistent…

Next sockly challenge?  I keep wanting to focus on learning to do two-at-a-time from the toe-up with either magic loop or two circs.  Toe-up makes way more sense to me and I’ll never have leftover yarn or run out at the toe… but I’m really stuck in my cuff-down comfort zone and I would have to buy more needles…

*I’m not against paying a healthy fee for a class, but at the time there wasn’t much competition so they got away with charging more than usual and the teacher was bad to boot…


Filed under knitting