Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Fashionary Panels--if you're trying to make your own clothes in any way, you should go get yourself some) this little drawing, imagining the lines of it in a handknit sweater. I gave it ribbed sleeves for ultra-sleeve-slimness, and a folded ribbed collar for maximum stand-up-ness, tall because my neck is ridiculous. I moved the waist shaping fifteen stitches to the front and back of the side seams, for more polish. I dove into the stash for some Cascade 220 in Walnut Heather, a diffuse grayish-brown that seems to crop up in my stash over and over again. It is the most nondescript color in the world, the color of mice, the color of my hair before it started to turn gray. I keep finding myself with a bunch of yarn that's this color, and it must be I love it. I knit a swatch, measured myself, did a little math, and started knitting, and now I have this:
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.