Editorial Content for Unraveling: What I Learned About Life While Shearing Sheep, Dyeing Wool, and Making the World's Ugliest Sweater

When I first laid eyes on the complete title of UNRAVELING, I remember actually articulating inside my head, “Oh goody, this looks like fun!” I was in for quite a surprise, one that took me far beyond mere fun.

I’ve grown up (and older) with a healthy and loving respect for all forms of handmade fiber art and fabric-crafting. As a youngster I was in awe of my Scottish grandmother, who could literally do with flax what Peggy Orenstein learns how to do with wool, taking it from field to woven linen. Neither process is easy --- physically, scientifically or artistically.

Orenstein is best known for half-a-dozen edgy, relevant and accessible books about gender culture, feminism, social transformation and youth self-esteem. But as with so many authors and artists, the COVID-19 pandemic challenged and detoured her creativity into a wholly unforeseen direction. As she describes in forthright and often self-effacing prose, trending pandemic pursuits such as growing one’s own vegetables or getting into sourdough starters didn’t hold much appeal.

"I wish my wonderful spinning, weaving and dyeing Scottish grandmother was still around, so I could share my copy of UNRAVELING with her. She would have loved it!"

But her knowledge of how disastrously fast fashion, massive clothing waste and fabric industry pollution are decimating Earth’s resources coalesced into the personal push-back project that became UNRAVELING. She would embark on a journey of “slow fashion” by finding people willing to give her socially distanced lessons on shearing sheep, turning the fleece into spun yarn, naturally dyeing that yarn, designing a basic sweater pattern, and knitting it into a wearable garment.

Orenstein was not only successful in completing what became an arduous personal journey (actually, more like a pilgrimage). She also draws into her narrative many threads of thought and feeling that the sheer physical demands of the project allowed her mind to work on at a more human pace.

Between the opening pages that get the sheep-shearing over with (a far too slow process for “Martha” the ewe!) and the last chapter, in which a very rustic-looking but gorgeously colored sweater finally gets knitted, UNRAVELING reflects on the motley history of fabric dyeing; the social stratification of certain shades; the history of cottage-to-factory fabric production; the subversive power of female fiber artisans; the commodification of human creativity; and a surprisingly powerful range of related issues that speak deeply to the 21st-century psyche.

In that vein I was struck by Orenstein’s use, or coinage, of the term “craftivism” as a new form of activism in which the work of our hands energizes movements and issues far larger than ourselves. Remember the countless pink “pussy hats” knitted by women to express outrage at then-President Trump’s demeaning attitude toward them? And that is only one of a number of potent examples she brings to bear on the big picture in which her brave sweater project has such an important role.

Orenstein accomplishes all of this against the geographic backdrop of living in a particularly fire-prone area of California (where everyone has a “go bag” packed for sudden evacuations) and the personal scenario of a parent about to become an empty-nester. And, of course, there’s COVID, which is still with us.            

In the end I wasn’t that far off the mark in anticipating a fun read, but Orenstein gave me a much deeper and more tangible experience of “fun” than I ever imagined. I just have two tiny regrets. First, while a small photo of the finished sweater appears on the back cover, Orenstein is never shown actually wearing it. Second, I wish my wonderful spinning, weaving and dyeing Scottish grandmother was still around, so I could share my copy of UNRAVELING with her. She would have loved it!