Beginning a Lanyard
My father wore a metal whistle at the end of his navy blue lanyard. After he came home from officiating a high school basketball game, he took off the lanyard and placed it on the dresser my parents shared. The weave looked complicated—especially to an eight year old.
For years I wanted my own lanyard—not for a whistle, but for a key or for the small magnifying glass I carried with me. The glass came straight out of a box of Cracker Jacks. I laced a string through the hole in the handle and sometimes remembered to bring it with me when exploring in the empty lot near my apartment building.
When I was a few months beyond ten and afraid that I'd never get a chance to learn the intricacies of lanyard weaving I met Barbara, the new girl at school, who wore a red and blue lanyard. Her house key hung halfway down to her belly. In return for a large slice of my grandmother's honey cake Barbara agreed to teach me how to make a lanyard.
We didn't own any lacing and neither of us knew where to find any. So Barbara used shoelaces from my father's shoes to teach me the proper order of string placement. The laces knotted and the lanyard didn't look right, but I did learn the stitch.
It wasn't until the following summer when my father directed a summer camp program at a hotel that I had the chance to make a lanyard. The Arts & Crafts shed was well stocked and I wove key chains, neck chains, bracelets— lanyards as gifts for everyone in my family.
By that time the magnifying glass was gone.
I hung my five year diary key around my neck.
For years I wanted my own lanyard—not for a whistle, but for a key or for the small magnifying glass I carried with me. The glass came straight out of a box of Cracker Jacks. I laced a string through the hole in the handle and sometimes remembered to bring it with me when exploring in the empty lot near my apartment building.
When I was a few months beyond ten and afraid that I'd never get a chance to learn the intricacies of lanyard weaving I met Barbara, the new girl at school, who wore a red and blue lanyard. Her house key hung halfway down to her belly. In return for a large slice of my grandmother's honey cake Barbara agreed to teach me how to make a lanyard.
We didn't own any lacing and neither of us knew where to find any. So Barbara used shoelaces from my father's shoes to teach me the proper order of string placement. The laces knotted and the lanyard didn't look right, but I did learn the stitch.
It wasn't until the following summer when my father directed a summer camp program at a hotel that I had the chance to make a lanyard. The Arts & Crafts shed was well stocked and I wove key chains, neck chains, bracelets— lanyards as gifts for everyone in my family.
By that time the magnifying glass was gone.
I hung my five year diary key around my neck.
1 Comments:
Seems so coincidental. Yesterday at the busy Apple store a clerk had a lanyard for his name badge. I thought it held his iPhone. That seems more convenient than a case hidden in the recesses of a purse or backpack.
But the lanyard had no fancy weave or ties. Now I must search online for a genuine lanyard,
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