I’ve dreamt of designing and creating cool stuff since I was young. I always loved bright colours, bold patterns and that “it’s a little different” factor. I remember my mum would buy clothes for me on her travels, that was different from what we would find in shops at home. And I remember friends would say “are you gonna wear that?!”, so yeah, my style always been slightly different from many others. Mum also tought me to knit and sew, so I started making small alterations to my clothes as fashion changed. Now I’m not going to brag about any skills, belive me, it was simple work. I usually would change position of the pockets on my jeans, cut the waistband, make it boot-cut… But my dreams was so much bigger! I could draw one piece after the other, plan colours, cuts, stitches… And it would look terrible! I can’t draw for the life of me! And I never really knew how to take it further. I knew nothing about the complex math behind a knitting pattern, or how the different fabrics needed to be cut. The truth is, I didn’t belive I was creative. I though creativity was something you were “born with”, something you needed a special set of skills to do. I though of myself as a more “logic” type of person, a practical person. So for years I really didn’t do anything about my ideas, and went on with other things.
Then came a day, when I met the man who is now my husband. We had been dating for only 2,5 months when my mum knitted him a sweater. So of course I had to knit him socks. He knew nothing about the magic of wool. He knew it was warm, but he thought the same about a knitted acrylic-sweater. I saw it as my life-task to teach him everything I knew about the fantastic world of natural fibers. How wool would keep him warm when its cold, but chill when its warm! How it transport moist out while keeping the heat in. Qualities that is vital for us who wear our traditional sami-clothing, the Gakti, kofta, wetter its -20 or +20 out! (more about this will be in an other post). Anyway, the 4 years that has passed since this “life changing moment of realising someone does not simply know the magic of wool” have made me dive deep into the world of fibers. I\ve learnt so much, and still learning something new everyday. But when my husband asked “why don’t you design your own stuff?”, I answered what I though was the truth, “I’m not that creative.” I’m practical, logical. I know math. But i’m not creative. My husband is creative.
He’s a musician. He can just pick up his guitar and this beautiful melody comes out. I don’t know how he does it. but the thing is. He’s practical too. he can build me a table, he can fix the car. he may not be as good as me in math, but hey! so, why do i think you either are a creative person or a practical one? Is there really a limit to creativity? is it possible to learn to be creative?
I was 30 when I decided to put my own “truth” to the test. And shortly after, i was proven wrong. It was as easy as this: not everything has to be 1+1=2. As an electrician I know sometimes 1+1+3, so why can’t logicial+practical=creative? I don’t have to be a great illustrator to be able to design a piece of knitwear. the numbers just have to add up. knit a certain number of a certain stitch with a certain gauge in a certain yarn, and it can become the most beautiful garment you’ve ever seen. That’s logic.
(I know the title is wrong, apparently “helpt” is not the correct spelling, but my husband thought it was charming, so I leave it like that)