If I had all the time in the world I would be the Molly Weasley of knitting. I would knit all my friends and family a Fair Isle jumper every Christmas with a matching hat and gloves. But that time simply doesn't exist in a day. A well-made jumper will take the average knitter 40+ hours. That's more than a week of 9-5.
I got into knitting as a way to transition further into a slow-fashion. Picking out the materials so I can be sure they are more sustainable, learning how they are made so they can be mended, and extending the life of my wardrobe as much as possible. That's not selfish and I think the idea of 'Selfish Knitting' is very counterproductive. There are so many incredible designs out there and I want to try them all. Yet unlike fast fashion where I could pop into H&M and buy 5 jumpers tomorrow, my crafting will be over a period of years because that's how long it takes to make things by hand! For reference, the last jumper I made took me two months, and I was working on it solidly over the summer.
Now you might be saying: "Surely you want your friends to be just as sustainable as you." And you would be correct. Eliminating all of the bad practices in the fashion industry would be great. If workers were compensated fairly for their skills, if items were made with the intention to last, if materials were less man-made, if there were less air miles on each item, if we disposed of clothing correctly, if, if, if...
I cannot fix any of those issues. The best I can do is avoid contributing to the industry. I am privileged enough that I can avoid (for the most part) cheap, single-use clothes. I invest in clothes the same way I invest in yarn. I will wear and re-wear until they eventually tatter and become stuffing in the next pillow I sew or compost in the garden.
This brings me onto my next point. Money. More specifically: Time = Money. If you're knitting for someone not in the crafting community they will not recognise the labour going into their jumper. I don't have a knitting machine. It's just me and two wooden sticks. If I was being paid the current living wage, that jumper would cost over £600 (before we even get into materials). Yarn isn't cheap either. If you want a soft wool that will hold up, you're looking at £50-100 for materials. Best make it's superwash too because that friend it bound to throw it in the wash by mistake at some point, and seeing a shrunken felted object would break your heart.
All that said, I am not an entirely selfish knitter. I love to gift knit! What I hate is the presumption. Not every celebration will come with a brand new elaborately cabled fit. I want to show off my crafting to my friends and I want to show them I care. I don't want to be used. My close friends get something crafty every year, even if it's just a keyring. Yet they know that my lack of free time doesn't equate to my lack of love and appreciation for them. There is love in every stitch regardless of the size or complexity.
There is a middle ground, and it comes with boundaries and communication. When it comes to big knitting projects, my philosophy is simple:
Firstly I test the water. Mittens, a hat, or even just links to some ideas on Ravelry. I want to know that the jumper will be appreciated. If it's going to sit at the back of a wardrobe for years before ending up in a charity shop bin, I'm not going to waste anyone's time. That's why it's so important to me that they are part of the process.
Then I need to understand their style and needs. That will help me find a pattern. This is the step they can help me with the most. Even non-knitters know what cabling looks like or can spot intarsia even if they don't have the language for it. Ply and materials are better explained in person, but posting some swatches will do in a pinch. A few reference photos and squishing of swatches later, we're on the same page.
Now is when my personal boundaries kick in. I don't make any promises about timelines. Things go wrong in knitting all the time. I wouldn't call myself skilled enough to knit every pattern first time without a hitch. So it might take 3 attempts to get where we going. For that reason I will never charge my friends for yarn. Even if it's a commission not a celebration. Because I don't know how long it will be before we see the results. My health and schedule are notoriously fluctuating. It might be two years.
(The caveat to this is of course Sample Knitting. If you are being employed by a designer to knit something then they should be paying for both your yarn and time. That is a business exchange with a deadline and a contract. I however don't Sample Knit for anyone.)
Getting a healthy balance between Selfish and Gift Knitting comes with time. For me it's 50:50. For you it might be one gift for every three selfish projects. It could be entirely selfish. There is no judgement from anyone important.
Let's say you still feel bad. You don't knit for the joy of knitting. You knit for the item, and you feel like you're never giving back. Maybe try Test Knitting. It can be a great excuse to make yourself something. Plus it's entirely guilt-free. You're helping a designer perfect their pattern. You need to try it on and give feedback in a way that would be very difficult when gift knitting. The item has to be for you!
There are always test knitting opportunities out there. Search some of your favourite designers on social media and I guarantee at least one of them has a call out. I always have at least one test knit on the go. Right now it's a blouse. You can see it over on my Instagram @frednamakes.
Happy crafting <3
Ravelry: https://www.ravelry.com/people/frednamode