The proverbial old wives tale offers this bit of advice: "Don't knit a sweater for a boyfriend, because the relationship will end before you're through."

I hate to admit it, but those old biddies were right.

I began this sweater in 1990; it a younger, hipper, more civil age. Seattle's coffee-swilling/grunge-dancing scene was en vogue. High tech startups had decent chances of making big money (and taking you along in the process). George H.W. Bush had only led us into a relatively SHORT pointless war. I was child-free. Ah, those were the days.

I laughingly realize, now that it's finished, that this sweater is older than my oldest son, who's now in the ninth grade. The sweater, titled "Go for it Red," has a complicated 14 row pattern and is from a 30 page book called Patton's Men (521,
published by Patton's and Baldwin's Canada, copyright 1988). It's made from 100% wool Fisherman's Yarn Very fashionable for that quaint, simpler time.

In the ensuing fifteen years, creating this sweater has undergone the following near-disasters. It's like the Passover of woolen sweaters. It has endured despite the following plagues. Please dip your little finger in
the beverage of your choice and lay them out on a plate/napkin/paper towel as you read, so that they shall not be forgotten:

1. Theft: It was stolen from my car, along with a sizeable number of my heirloom knitting needles. Likely ended up in a dumpster somewhere. So I started over. This was in 1990.

2. Boredom: I worked on it periodically, through having my first son and attending a ph.D. program. I didn't get very far, because-let's face it-I didn't have copious amounts of spare time to be knitting, but still I managed to knit an inch or two of the complicated pattern.

3. Break-up: My boyfriend and I split up two years later. This fed the inertia to just leave it in the back of a closet. Every once in a while I would find it an knit a few more rows.

4. Moths: Pulled it out a few years later to do some work on it. I found that moths had decided to make a four-course buffet of a spot near where the ribbing meets the pattern. I had to unwind everything back to the
ribbing and start again. Still I persisted and completed the back and began work on the front.

5. More Moths: I was about 2 inches from completion of the front when I found another hole near the ribbing. I nearly screamed. I couldn't imagine ripping it out back down to the hole. Luckily, I lived to knit again, and I learned how to patch the hole.

6. Stubbornness: You'd think that I would get it at this point and scrap the project. However, the five plagues thus far taunted me. I was now more determined to finish it than ever. I was a woman renewed. This
was in 1997.

7. Apathy: I finished the front in 2004.

8. Taunting: Friends teased me about my determination to finish the sweater, particularly as they saw me take up the needles with increasing frequency and furor. Some offered to buy it off me just so they could throw it away and ease me of my burden. Damned those scorching 85-degree Seattle summers! Full speed ahead!

9. Technical Difficulties: I admit to taking a few more liberties from the original pattern. I used my own simpler stitch (the seed stitch: knit into knit, perl into perl). And I didn't not do the pocket. I don't think even fishermen would use it to store their pocket fisherman, so I opted out. And over the years my gauge has gotten tighter, so the front looks different from the back which is different from the sleeves. Still I was surprised to see each piece worked together.

10. Supply and demand: It was now 2005, a full fifteen years after I'd begun. Had I bought enough wool to make it through the moth smorgasbord and still be able to finish? I paniced. Fortunately I found two more full skeins (un-mothified, surprisingly enough) in a closet and completed the sleeves.

How many sweaters can YOU say have survived ten plagues?

Once it was completed, I felt as though my options were four-fold:

Option 1. Give it to my ex: Things have been rough between us in the ensuing years, but I couldn't do that to him. What if the bad karma stuck to the sweater and rubbed off? The bad karma would come back to me because I'd inflicted that on him, so.no.

Option 2. Give it away to a charity (so it will keep someone warm): why would I wish bad karma on some unsuspecting innocent person? They didn't do anything to me to deserve it. But can you imagine? They've been hit by unfortunate circumstances and charity has given them this lovely sweater.then more misfortune befalls them. Subsequently we're back to more bad karma returning to me. Nope, couldn't do that one either.

Option 3. Sell it: Selling it with open disclosure of the "bad karma" has some appeal. But keeping the money keeps the karma stagnant. How to turn bad karma into good? Which brought me to.

Option 4. Sell it and donate the money to a charity! I've chose the Fremont Public Association Family Shelter.

Option 4 obviously was the solution and I posted the sweater on Ebay, a friend bought it and sent a check to the charity. I did think that would rid the sweater of the bad kharma, but I may have been wrong. They day I gave her the sweater was also the rainy day she and her husband were driving to meet us and he ran over a median, causing almost a thousand dollars worth of damage to his PT Cruiser. I do not know what she has done with the sweater, but I hope it's not causing her any more trouble.

From Stitch ‘N Bitch: The Knitter’s Handbook by Debbie Stoller (c 2003)

Rules of Engagement, or What not to Knit for your Boyfriend.

Here’s a legend known to all knitters across the land: It is bad luck to knit a sweater for a boyfriend, as it guarantees that the relationship will end. Of course, if you’re looking to rid yourself of said boyfriend, this might not be the most direct way of going about it. Like most myths, it holds a good amount of truth. If you’ve spent a month or two working long and hard on a sweater for your guy, only to have him not appreciate it enough or not to wear it very often (and this happens all the time), you might catch a lingering resentment and wind up dumping the ungrateful lout. The theory, I suppose, is that if you’re marries to the guy and make him a sweater he never wears, you ’re still stuck with him.

Update: a friend found this article on the sweater curse, so I know I'm not alone.