Ideas don’t always arrive with a fanfare. Sometimes they drift in quietly, sit themselves down, and wait for me to notice them. The Skeleton Tea Dance cosy was one of those ideas. It came to me so long ago that I can’t even remember what sparked it, only that I made a note so I wouldn’t forget. Halloween comes round every year and most of the obvious spooks and ghouls have already been knitted, so I always feel the need to bring something new to the teapot. A graveyard scene with skeletons popping up and running amok felt like a fresh way to join the Halloween party.
Skeletons are deceptively simple. They’re only a few bones, but the ribcage is a problem because it has no structure on its own. If you tried to knit just the ribs, they would collapse. So I decided to create a doll-like black background and place the bones on top, giving the skeletons support and shape. That’s the sort of engineering I often mull over long before I draw anything. I need to know that the idea can be made, that it will stand up, and that it will look the way I see it in my mind’s eye.
Mood is another thing I think about. One skeleton on a cosy would look a bit lonely, and the composition would feel wanting. Two skeletons side by side instantly look like they’re interacting. It’s funny how two static figures can look like they’re dancing without any movement at all. There are other interpretations, but we tend to read it as playful and fun. At their stage of life there’s nothing left to worry about. They’re not scared of death and money means nothing. They’re carefree, and that sets the tone for the cosy.
Knitting itself is a soft medium. It has rounded corners and a cosy feel, so it’s hard to make anything truly spooky. That’s why humour works so well. People like something mischievous and cute, especially in autumn when the nights draw in and they’re looking for a project to keep them occupied. A Halloween cosy gives them an excuse, a deadline, and a little event to show off their handiwork.
I always think about the knitter. They want something that looks detailed and impressive, but they don’t want endless fiddly bits. There’s a saying that customers don’t know what they want until they’re shown it. I think that’s true for knitting patterns. I need to show them something they’d enjoy making, something that looks achievable and sits comfortably within their skill set.
Colour and texture matter too. I chose a gradient background for the graveyard because a flat black sky would have looked dull and is never pleasant to knit. Real skies aren’t one colour, and the bands of shading give depth and interest. It adds a layering effect to the whole cosy and makes the scene feel more alive.
By the time an idea reaches the sketching stage, it has already passed my internal scrutiny checks. I’ve thought about it for a while, wondered how it would work, and tested the engineering in my head. Some ideas never make it that far. If I’m not feeling the love, if the backstory isn’t speaking to me, or if I can’t sense the cosiness coming through, then it gets discarded. Those ideas would end up flat and uninspiring, and I only want to design cosies that have life, charm and a spark of something special.
Article by Suzy Cowper, knitting designer and entrepreneur at TeaCosyFolk.
