One day, as I was washing my hair, I got stuck on thinking about writing knitting patterns. More specifically, I found myself fixating on assumptions and how they affect our instructions.
Each pattern makes assumptions about a knitter’s knowledge level and familiarity with knitting. Sometimes the pattern assumes the knitter knows nothing. Sometimes it assumes the knitter knows a lot. Most patterns (including my own) are somewhere in the middle. They assume some basic familiarity but will spell out everything else. But part of reading a pattern involves knowing the knitting culture it comes from. Some knitting cultures have a baseline assumption that is higher than the baseline assumption in other knitting cultures.
Knitting Patterns Aren’t Written in a Vacuum
I write my patterns in English for a primarily English-speaking population based primarily in the US. It’s why my patterns tend to be very specific about instructions. I figure an experienced knitter will substitute their preferences when working on one of my designs, but a newer knitter might need clearer instructions. Patterns written in the US for a US-based audience tend to be more explicit about instructions overall. I try to follow that convention so people using my patterns get what they expect.
Part of using a pattern well also means taking a step back and reassessing when a literal reading would lead to absurd results. This is also my beef with the “beginner” label on patterns. Maybe the skills are for beginners, but what about the pattern itself? Do the instructions assume basic knowledge? Or are they clear enough for a true beginner?
Ultimately, there isn’t a right or wrong level of knowledge to assume in your knitters. What’s most important is communicating those assumptions to people using your patterns. Likewise, knitters need to stop and ask themselves what assumed knowledge they might be missing. Together, those two steps can avert a lot of frustration.