Tuesday, August 15, 2017
Rhinebeck this year. It is happening! I feel like an eight-year old getting ready for her first trip to Disneyland. The wall-to-wall woolly-ness. The leaves and the cider and the like-minded people all around. Oh, sigh! Lovely. The first thing to figure out is: what on earth to wear? Rhinebeck is where yarn lovers let their mad skills out and let their freak flags fly, and I thought this would make all my current mostly-stockinette projects fall by the wayside so I could plan some kind of epic garment--there has been a LOT (more than usual, even) of trawling through patterns, but I am as yet undecided. Anything I make specifically for that occasion still has to fit into the regular wardrobe when I get home, and that makes a delicate balancing act. I love the idea of starting something special. I think I will enjoy the lengthy search through pattern options, and if the search turns up nothing that really wants to be my Rhinebeck Sweater, I'll just wear something from the shelf in the closet and be happy. I do have these to show you, little mitts I made while the weather was too warm to be worrying about cold hands, but they will be just right in October. These were designed by me, using up some scraps--the two main colors are Dream in Color Classy, in a discontinued colorway, some kind of antique gold [here are their current colorways, lock up your credit card before you click that link, whoo] and the ubiquitous Patons Classic Worsted in Lemongrass. The contrast colors are all from the leftovers basket--I think the pink is from my experiments in dyeing with avocado pits. I thought about going on ahead and making them into mittens, and once October is over and winter sets in hard and there is no place in my life for naked fingertips, I might do that, just pull out the bind off at the top of the hand and thumb, and do some decreases until the fingers are covered. Meanwhile, though, I like them this way. By the way, the main stitch pattern is from this book, and the contrast color band is something I just improvised.
Monday, August 7, 2017
Mazzy, by Elizabeth Smith--which I've worn all day today and I love it, but it has turned gray and gloomy and there is not a ray of light to be found. This cardigan is pretty great though, in spite of a huge chunk of mistakes (made by me when things on Orphan Black got really compelling--no spoilers, I'm only on Season Three) in the cables at the back of the collar:
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Everyday Style") and I'm hoping there is enough summer left to wear it. Folded drifted malevolently into my mind, making me feel guilty and unsettled, and I realized that if I expect to wear this anytime at all, and certainly before approximately a year from now, I'd better get in there and fix it. This thing was done, blocked, and sitting on the shelf in the closet, awaiting a public outing, and it sat there for a long time, unworn, before I finally admitted to myself that it was too short, and also a little too narrow at the bottom hem for my personal taste. Which was a little bit of a pain, because Folded is worked from the bottom up, which means that too-narrow hem was the cast on edge, and one of the only non-magical things about knitting is that you can't just unravel from where you started--you can only unravel from where you ended. Well, I didn't want to rip out the whole sweater and start over, making the cast on edge bigger (for a wider hem) and I didn't want to just abandon the sweater altogether (this is Madelinetosh Merino Light! Yummy!) so the only thing left was to cut off the hem and knit it down from there, which after lying awake in anticipation of the endless tedium of doing that, I finally did this morning, and it was an hour of work. Note to self: See? Get in there and get it done, you'll feel better. To remove the hem, I snipped one stitch right above the ribbing, unpicked each stitch one at a time, and put each loop back on the needle, one at a time, until I had all the stitches live again, and ready to knit--top down, this time--where I will work an extra set or two of increases and add more length to the whole thing, finally ending with the ribbing. It's a little bit painful to do this, cutting into a completely finished object with scissors and then picking at it for an hour, but honestly, it is waaaayy less painful than knitting an entire sweater in fingering weight yarn and then never wearing it because I'm too lazy to spend half a day fixing a small problem. That's not how I want to roll. So, tonight I will knit a few inches of stockinette and then the ribbing, and then I will want to wear this. Luckily, the weather is perfect for it.
Monday, July 24, 2017
pattern by Sonya Philip has been in the back of my mind, and sometimes in the front of it, ever since she released it. I love the idea of these simple pants so much--two pattern pieces + a few yards of linen fabric + a little elastic = instant gratification wardrobe staple. These are the pants I want/need. This is what you wear with those long-ish dresses and tunics I keep seeing everywhere, but that cling to my cotton leggings like a hungry bear. It feels like these will fill a little bit of a gap in the wardrobe. This test pair, made in about an hour (sewing, I love you!) out of a piece of thrifted linen, are the perfect lounge-y, pajama-y pants. I am wearing them right now. I want to wear them all the time.
Tuesday, July 18, 2017
Granito by Joji Locatelli. Such beautiful simplicity, that thing. Those pefectly placed pockets. The skinny sleeve/baggy body combo that I'm so into right now. Even though I suspect this otherwise very good yarn (Holst Supersoft) is not a good match for the pattern--Supersoft is quite rustic and a little bit scruffy and light as a feather, which is ordinarily one of it's big advantages, but it isn't going to drape at all, and Granito seems to need drape--I had some Supersoft in the stash and this pattern was crying out to me. It may work out just fine, but somehow that isn't the point right now. I have reservations, indeed I had reservations when I set out, but I am enjoying it anyway, and I might surprise myself--it could be perfect. It might! We knit on the porch, Catdog and I. She offers advice and suggestions, and raises an eyebrow slightly at me now and then, when I make an ill-considered yarn substitution, but for the most part she is intent on the arrival of the garbage truck or the mail carrier or somebody going by on a bike, and can't really be bothered with my yarn problems.
Sunday, July 9, 2017
Ecktorp sofa from Ikea, which we bought I think back in 2012, and I had two plain white slip covers for it. (Guys, don't get a white couch without getting a spare slipcover. Serious. What are you going to sit on while the only slipcover you have is soaking in OxiClean?) Anyway, after awhile, one slipcover had gotten pretty grubby--and also, I get bored and like to change everything around about every five minutes-- so Michelle and I cooked up another vat of indigo and without any hesitation, I dunked it. Oh goodness, I love it. Its the color of blue jeans [obviously] and I think it will fade in kind of a gorgeous blue jeans way [also obviously] and I can hardly wait to watch that happen. I love that old-blue-jeans-grayish color. I await that, and also all the other fading iterations of indigo blue this slipcover will undergo. They are all good. Indigo dyeing is so much fun. Everything white that isn't nailed down suddenly looks like a good candidate to be indigo. I still have the other slipcover, which is still white (for now, for now...) and so will probably alternate them, which should keep me entertained for awhile. Camaro-inspired rainbow palette across the body and sleeves. Those stripes! Bliss. I feel like this is something I would have worn in 1978, while watching Starsky and Hutch [speaking of which, hoo! That show was so full of handknits.] I feel like my first boyfriend Bobby from next door had this shirt. It makes me think of the Brady Bunch and my Huffy ten-speed bike and spending entire fall Saturdays reading comic books. Next time I'm gonna lower the stripes about two inches, which will make it totally perfect, but this one is nearly there. The collar is huge. Ultra. Mega. It's 11 1/2" tall, meant to be folded over for a double-thick, no kidding, all-the-way-warm turtleneck. My neck is pretty long and I am always wishing for more collar on a sweater like this. It looks a little bit like a neck brace, but I'm telling you, when the wind is howling (just a few months, friends) I will be enjoying that super tall, ultra mega collar very, very much. Developing these sweater template patterns that are just right for me has been the most rewarding project I can remember.
Friday, June 30, 2017
here.] Not too warm for a turtleneck, out there beside Onondaga Lake on a summer evening. Nope, nice and chilly. This is Stormtracker by Alicia Plummer (I might as well throw out my Ravelry queue and just start knitting her designs. I love every single one of them) knit in Patons Classic Worsted, colorway "Mercury", which a slightly grayed navy. I modified the sleeves by working them even for six inches and then starting the decreases, and they fit much better. Anyway, I love it, and I hate that I can wear it right now.