I watched people's eyes. Did they notice the neckline, which could really use another couple of inches? Or the little space on the front band that longs for an extra sewing stitch? Or that the cardigan is really big on me, mostly because my gauge was off?
To put it another way, I walked around all day waiting for the most dreaded question in all of Knittingdom: "Did you make your sweater?"
I am happy, proud, and relieved to report that no one ever asked. In fact, like most 50-year-old, fat white women in the suburbs, I went completely unnoticed. Which makes me wonder: when and how did I grow so old that people - especially men - stopped looking at me? When did I become invisible? And is this a good thing or a bad one?
Probably both. Frankly, it's a relief to go out without mascara. I don't feel the need to be beautiful all the time - or even most of the time. I can just be me, take it or leave it. Whatever. I'm 50. I have nothing to prove. It's all down hill from here. And most of the time, that's okay by me.
This all leads me to one of my favorite sayings: Don't worry about what people think of you because most of the time they don't. Ain't it the truth?! I grew up in a family of narcissists - you'd think I'd already know this, but sometimes I forget. No one's worried about me but me.
The knitting corollary? Don't worry about what people think of your creations because usually they don't.
Except on Ravelry. And my blog. So thank you for reading and paying attention to my handmade sweaters. :-)