Íslenskar Lopapeysur

Íslenskar Lopapeysur

I never gave a serious look at any of the "lopapeysur", these traditional circular-collared Icelandic sweaters found in outlet stores, one on every block of downtown Reykjavík's Laugavegur and Skólavörðustígur streets aka "Wool Street".

I'm unhappy wearing this.

I was so into looking for a perfect "lopapeysa" sweater along "Wool Street", the name Reykjavíkings have humorously christened their Laugavegur and Skólavörðustígur neighborhood, where most stores sell the most wonderful Icelandic sweaters and woollen stuff. I think I spent so much time looking I forgot to eat! (But not enough to forget to drink coffee! Priorities!)

I'm überhandsome. You could try.

I will admit I lookt for a hat, but only by request, not one for myself, and I'll let you know that it was a tedious and time-consuming chore.

I was firstly on the hunt for the perfect hat, not for myself but for someone who really loves hats, and found one right away, but I secretly (shhh!) continued to visit every store that sold woollen sweaters, hats, vests, scarves, blankets, shawls and I wanted them all, even though I was only supposed to be on a hat-hunt. 

Firstly, I shied away because they seemed to me only souvenirs for tourists. Expensive souvenirs for tourists, and I'd never wear one, as none seemed particularly attractive, and all had the one of four or five collar designs. Really? You're exaggerating, Ben. Ok, there were only three or four designs, tops.  Done in gray or white or black or sometimes green. There were pullovers, cardigans, and cardigans with hoodies. A few indistinguishable designs in four colors for three models. The number of the same choices was overwhelming.  Store to store, same to same. Lopa-overload. They really all lookt the same to me, maybe a compromised fusiform gyrus. Didn't anyone but me see this!!??? Every tourist on the street wearing one lookt the same!

THE iconic souvenir! CHECK. I'd already visited a number of countries and came home every time with the perfect souvenir, a Swiss cuckoo clock, a German beer stein, a French dishtowel, a Belgian lace doily, Dutch wooden clogs (also got a Van Gogh poster of Starry Night). CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK (CHECK)! These all were laid out proudly in the house but a lopapeysa was going to be different! It was something I could wear and be out in public with, and such a conversation starter it would be! "Yes! I've been to Iceland and was it so cool!" LOL! (Get it? Iceland is cool!) The number of designs! I couldn't keep track and was so lopa-overloaded, I laught so much at myself. And then went and got a coffee to calm down.

My real souvenirs will be obsidian, scoria, pumice, beach flotsam, hot Eldfell gravel, black basalt sands, and very long videos of ocean waves crashing over blue ice and waterfalls shushing loudly. Not bad really. Maybe a bottle of brennivín from duty-free too. A vile aquavit slash schnapps of caraway, aka black death, how morbid is that?  I was served a shot at Pakkhús in Höfn.   Skál.

All those rocks I collected are awesome, because they came from important geologic sites I visited, but they're nothing I can share and expect the same excitement that I have for them. But EVERYBODY loves Icelandic sweaters. I have to find the perfect one. I just love saying the word!  Lopapeysa! 'LOW pah pay sah!  Everybody says to get the other iconic souvenir, a bottle of brennivín, a vile aquavit slash schnapps of caraway, aka black death, how morbid is that? What'm I going to do? Drink it all and put an empty on the shelf? I don't think so.

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Skip to Þjóðhátíð.  Thousands of Icelanders there (from the papers, 25,000 persons attended in 2014), and I really feel it's nearly tourist-free because at a sing-along part of an evening, I didn't see anyone not singing along. I should mouth along I thought.  Recall that I saw everyone of every age there, families with children and babies in prams, lots of youngsters, lots of older youngsters, lots of couples, lots of grandparents.  And that's lots of singing and only in íslensku.  (It felt weird seeing teenagers belting out the songs that the middle-aged and grandfolk were belting out too.  It's unnatural, that kind of camaraderie amongst ages.)

I'll get to the point, now that I've properly painted a picture of the crowd, the Icelandic crowd: every third person was wearing a lopapeysa.  It's not a costume, it's what you wear on a cold evening.  And apparently, if I've read this correctly, the wool is particular to the island, of two fiber types and together they create a special wool yarn and a sweater that one is quite warm in.  Maybe that does explain why I never saw any Icelander at the festival wearing both a jacket and an sweater, but only the sweater.

Ok, they're überwarm but another explanation is that Icelanders are used to cooler weather 15ºC slash 50ºF is tops. Otherwise it's a heatwave. 0ºC slash 32ºF is bottoms, by the way.  Ok, it's a national bank holiday and they're all celebrating being Icelandic as it began as a national celebration of 1000 years since the Settlement, so they should be wearing lopapeysur.  You can take that view if you tend to be cynical about everything, sure, you're welcome to be.

So. Back in Reykjavík.  I have a revised view of all things woollen.  I'm lucky to come across Handprjónasamband Íslands, that is, The Handknitting Association of Iceland.  Because it's not a boutique store but a catastrophe.   A nightmare if you're looking for something particular, an adventure if you're on a lopa-hunt.

One point to be clear about, these are all hand-knitted. None are really the same size; if it's a size M, try on every size M in the stack, and ask if there are anymore downstairs.  One will be perfect.  I definitely wanted one with a hoodie, so that's a cardigan then.  Size M.  Everyone of one design I really liked did not fit, and neither did the size L of the same.  Then I found one I really liked even more, but it just hung on my body, there was nothing in the bottom hem to keep it snug.  Somewhere in the piles of unsorted and unfolded lopapeysur, was a perfect one with my name on it, it was just a matter of pulling all of a stack out and trying them all on and having someone find another exactly like this size M that I just found downstairs, just in case it fit better.  As there was little care to refold them and restack them, therein the catastrophe.

I'm happy wearing this.

I'm überhandsome, too.

There is one curious thing about lopaspeysur though.  They were first knitted in the 50s.  The 1950s.  They're not an ageless Icelandic traditional.  And the designs, originally from Greenland.

I came home with a lopapeysa and a bottle of brennivín and a lot of rocks and sand and gravel.

Überhandsome.

You don't agree?

Sigh. You still don't agree?