This week (it might even be this very day) marks the 3-year anniversary of my first design acceptance letter.
It’s a big milestone. 3 years is time enough for a lot to happen; in the words of Bilbo Baggins, I’m not the same hobbit I once was. I’ve published 27 patterns to date, with more coming down the pipe. I’m slowly learning how to make designing easier on myself (until I make it harder). My patterns are cleaner than they used to be, and there are fewer tears when someone gets mad at me over errata. I’ve gotten yarn mail from France, British Columbia and Uruguay. There’s more. I won’t get into everything that’s happened since that day, 3 years ago, when I decided I could now legitimately call myself a designer.
I’m not the same designer that I was then, of course. Nor am I the same person. Upon waking up earlier this week and remembering that my designiversary was approaching, I realized how many of my design milestones match up with personal turning points—most of which, with an oblivion that could either be blissfully innocent, sinisterly foreshadowing, or both, I overlooked without realizing what they were. Maybe one day those will be worth celebrating too.
Today, we’re going to do two things. First, now seemed like a good time to debut something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. I’ve started an email newsletter called Friends of Red Earth Design Studio. Signing up for it will get you a monthly behind-the-scenes update from me, including what I’m working on and what to expect for the month, as well as whatever snippets of other news and inspiration are swirling around in my head at the moment. You’ll also get bigger discounts when I release a new pattern or have a sale. I may even send out special gifts on occasion. And when I need important feedback from the people who purchase my patterns, subscribers will be the ones I ask. If all that sounds like a lark to you, you can sign up here.
The second thing we’re going to do is what I like to think of as a highlight reel. We’re going to take a quick trip through some of the best moments in Red Earth Design Studio history so far, and maybe hit some funny stories too. So, without further ado:
Here’s the pattern that started it all—Fenestra. I was waiting in the car for my mom, who was in the doctor’s office, when the acceptance email came in. She somehow saw it before I did and ran out of the doctor’s office screaming. True story. (She takes her parental cheerleading very seriously. She also reads this blog—love you Mom!)
Also a true story: the shawl was inspired by cathedral windows, and when I tried to come up with a slightly more original name than “window”, the first thing that came to mind was the Defenestration of Prague (the one in 1618), which I was disturbingly fascinated with at age 8. Upon reflection, maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up…
This cushion was my first independent pattern. To this day I have not sold one copy, which used to not be funny and now is on a good day.
Facets Cowl, my first crochet design…
Henpecked Hood—my first time in Hot Right Now on Ravelry (and my only pattern designed for chickens to date)!
Nuit d’etoiles, my bestselling pattern to date (what would you say if I told you I was thinking about making a fingering weight version?)
Me earlier this year, trying to impress the folks at SweetGeorgia Yarns with my application packet for their Designer in Residence program. I guess I didn’t do too bad.
My first-ever garment design. All the disasters that have kept this from coming out when it was supposed to (like, during the summertime…) are not quite funny to me yet. Maybe by New Year’s. (There are still test knitting slots open on Ravelry, by the way.)
Someone asked me yesterday during the final Zoom call we held to close out the Quiet Bay MKAL, “What’s next for you?” I gave her the lowdown on the thousand-and-one designs (okay, maybe not quite that many) that I have coming out in the next sixth months; what I really wanted to say was “I wish I knew!” If there’s one thing this hobbit has learned in this 3-year stint of design + life, it’s that one never can quite tell what will happen. I’m still working on seeing that as a good thing. But while I’m working on it, good Lord willing, I’ll be knitting.
