Love wraps herself in knitting

The Guardian UK caught up with Courtney Love in rehab. The girl has had it hard: public excoriation, televised relapse vag flashing, Frances Bean's Blink 182 phase, fever dreams of Kurt coming back to save her, but the worst, the worst, or one of the worst, as she said in the interview, "I was really sober and I just got fat and I couldn't work," she recalls despondently. "Being fat is one of the worst things that ever happened to me." How VAIN is she? But kinda right, no? There is recourse though. Like the interview's telling "poetic" interlude:

The sky is now dark. There is an orange glow reflecting off the sea from an oil rig lighting fixture. With the wind almost hasty, Love wraps herself in knitting, though I'm unsure whether it's a blanket or just a gigantic shawl.

This is where the reporter's first person enters the story? Shawl/blanket confusion? Whatever. The phrase "Love wraps herself in knitting" will put me to bed tonight ruminating for hours upon its infinitude of ontological possibilities.