My mother knitted them for my niece’s Barbie dolls. She followed careful patterns to make sweaters, pants and dresses. She counted stitches. She included details of stripes and snaps, elastic waistbands and ribbing on the cuffs.
She must have used tiny knitting needles. The little loops curl around one another in rows, neat as bowling pins with equal distance between each one.
How satisfying it must have been to make the miniature outfits! A whole wardrobe could be finished in a week.
Making clothing for adults can be tedious. You never notice how big a grown man is until you try to knit a sweater for him! You notice how strange our heads are shaped once you wrestle with the angles of making a hat fit.
Dolls make perfect models. Never growing, they stand ready to pose in your latest fashion. They won’t stretch out the sleeves or wear out the elbows.
A new purpose
My niece grew up. The dolls—no longer needed—waited for a fashion show that never came in southern weather unsuited for sweaters.
Because of my interest in all things yarn, my sister asked if I wanted the Barbie clothes.
“Of course! Sounds fun!” I said.
She mailed me the clothes in an envelope the size of a thin paperback.
I admired them and put them in a box. The sweaters waited.
Meanwhile, my husband’s Ultramen protected the bookshelf from attack. They stood unyielding in molded red plastic armor.
The realization struck me. Sweaters are made to be worn, not stored in boxes.
These Ultramen need sweaters! I got them dressed immediately.
Could my mother imagine her creations would decorate Japanese plastic superheroes from the 1960s? Would she be distressed—or delighted?
After we’ve made something, we can’t control how it’s used. We can make it with joy and give it away with our best hopes. Once it’s out of our hands, it goes in its own direction.
What are you making now that will outlast you?
Her work—with its unintended purpose—continues to produce joy.
Proud Ultramen in knitted glory look out from their bookshelf across the vast bedroom. They are never cold, always cozy, cheering us up every time we see them.
Ultramen in hand knit sweaters—the silliness of it, the wonderfulness of it, life!
I think our mother would have been delighted to see the ultramen wear her sweaters! Nothing should ever be stuffed in a box. Delightful post! Thanks for sharing.
Yes, I agree! In a box = forgotten. You’re great at displaying all your treasures. They add character. Thanks for your comment!
I still have all the clothes Andrea knitted for my daughter’s dolls. And a Barbie to wear them. But now I will look at other critter with new eyes. Storm cat, here kitty kitty!
Ha! Cats always look so much more disgusted in clothes than dogs do. They are more easily insulted because they have pride! Thanks so much for your funny comment and your support.
I loved this whimsical post. Not that I don’t enjoy the posts that have a more serious introspective vibe as well, but this was a great mid-week boost. And I agree–I think your mother would love to see her sweaters clothing needy action figures.
Thank you for your comment! Sometimes we just need the little things that make us smile. Appreciate your thoughts and your support!
I am thrilled with the outcome of my vote. 🙂
Thank you for being a part of the blog and my life!
I love what Shoshannah wrote. I can see Andrea knitting glitter rainbow clothing for all of the grandchildren’s toys (as well as for ponies and other pets). She would have loved yarn-bombing. So glad that you write your posts on Wednesday to lift us up. Thanks Gen!
Thank you for such a kind comment! I think she would have loved yarn-bombing too and Pixie our pony would have had an amazing sweater for sure!
I loved the Ultraman show when I was a kid! Haven’t met anyone else who has ever heard of him. Hoping to get my son hooked when the Ultraman DVD arrives from Netflix. Glad the Barbie clothes got a second life. 🙂
Thanks for your comment! My husband has always been a big fan. Glad to hear you’ll introduce Ultraman to our next generation!