Honey have I let myself go?

I am mad, steaming mad.

I just came back from the mechanics and after spending way, way too much for having a tow bar put on it seems I still have be treated like a "pretty, empty headed little girl" by a patronising old fuck. Now I don't know squat about cars, don't ever want to but that has nothing to do with being a woman. My partner possibly knows even less than I do about cars and he is most definitely a man. Apparently that does not matter, just having a penis between your legs entitles you to some level of respect at this mechanic. And I thought that is why I pay a mechanic, I don't know anything about brain surgery and yet it wouldn't make me stupid to use a brain surgeon right?

Still we have come a long way; let me tell you a story.

I was at local auction (we buy and sell "stuff" for part of our living) and to my surprise the bloke who shows the things for the Auctioneer (you know like Ivana) holds up this kinda cool looking retro bag and says "bag filled with old knitting books" and well my head swung around so fast I made the smelly, smoky woman next to me jump. And then before I know it I am bidding on it and it is mine for $7. Sight unseen. It was filled with lots of different mags and patterns. None newer than about 1980.

I now have a complete collection of Golden Hands, a gem for crafts that have been forgotten. Macrame anyone?

Good for lace shawl patterns - yes?

And - then - I came across this magazine from 1958,

and this wonderful article.

Apparently I have not been a good wife. I have allowed my husband to see me without lipstick. I wonder - does lip balm count? Not only do I not jump out of bed each morning before him so I can get myself presentable and pretty, and this kills me to say, but I won't get out of bed until I am sure he has coffee waiting for me.

I quote "I once asked a very successful business man what part his wife had played in encouraging him. "She never came down to get breakfast - even after the babies started to arrive - looking anything but pretty", he said promptly and proudly. The article goes on to tell me how I must leap out of bed in the morning before hubby wakes and sees how truly hideous I am and do an entire beauty routine as well as making sure I change into a "trim blouse and skirt or slacks". Now if the children's needs are not too demanding I should sit down to breakfast with hubby because "that is the way he thought it would be -the prettiest girl in the world facing him over the table". Then I must walk him to the door and kiss him even though I will get lipstick all over him. But he will be secretly thrilled that I have taken the time to put lipstick on (and this is the best part) because it shows I care. (Forget about that committed life partner stuff silly, it is all about the lippy.) Did I mention this is in a KNITTING magazine. Pass the Valium.

Check out the sock.

Bet you couldn't do this Mr Asshole Mechanic, bet you couldn't even if you did want to. Making these socks - that is easily as cool and difficult as putting on a dumb tow bar anyway. And you know what else Mr Asshole Mechanic if you came to a Stitch n' Bitch and asked to learn how to make these socks we would be nice and helpful to you because knitters aren't like you, we are good.