Woolly scarves
Stories of the clothes we love WOOLLY SCARVES
They are one of winter’s happiest sights, standing out a mile, on the season’s grey pavements and muddy fields. Securely cocooning necks, or bouncing merrily along with the rhythm of a walk are bright woolly scarves. These portable works of art are the proud handiwork of home-knitters and knitwear designers alike: colourful, cosy and creative.
The history of the knitted scarf is, surprisingly, woolly – it’s thought they date back to around the 16th or 17th century, but shawls not scarves were the order of the day for fashionable women until the 20th century. That’s when the knitted fun really begins. Scour the countless vintage knitting patterns available online and you’ll discover dainty lace numbers, or neat little knitted scarves, for tucking into blouses, or the all-in-one cap and scarf, all just waiting for a skilled pair of needles to come and recreate them. Then, of course, there was the wide range of woollies created as part of the Knit for Victory drive of the Second World War.
So far, so respectable. But the real liberation of the woolly scarf seems to have happened in the late 1940s and early 1950s at the hands of the beatniks, when they got longer, wider, wilder. According to Carolyn Cassady – wife of Neal Cassady, the model for Dean in
On the Road, and a writer and designer in her own right – the costume for beatnik women was charity-shopbought black leotards and ballet shoes, all accessorised with a woolly scarf. And, as with many things, what once was alternative, quickly became mainstream. How else to explain the long, colourful stripey scarf worn by my dad as he went off to university, hand-knitted by his proud mum? Travelling far from home, to a strange city, knitted into each row of that scarf is a mother’s desire to protect her son.
The scarf, and her son, survived perfectly well. I tried wearing it too, some 30 years later, until I tired of the inevitable Doctor Who comments. (Should you want to knit one, they are easily found online). But as the beloved Doctor shows, scarves can be a statement of allegiance: from sporting teams to universities and even Gryffindor. Or, to the Finnish design masters, if you’re like my friends, who unintentionally managed to coordinate with three of us in Marimekko for Uniqlo scarves at one gathering.
But even putting on a colourful woolly scarf is a statement in itself. On the days when you would much rather be under a blanket on the sofa, swaddling yourself in a favourite scarf is a reminder that it’s possible to bring colour to even the darkest of days. It won’t banish the worst days of winter, but it does at least invest them with some comfort and cheer. And, at this time of the year, that’s two of the things we all need most.