Pre-FO: Seeking Closure

So I knit the Diminishing Rib Cardigan quite some time ago. As in, I bound off last summer (August 10, to be further precise). But I haven’t really been able to decide how I wanted it to close, and I had this nagging feeling that it was a bit too big for me.

I did what I usually did: folded it up neatly in a pile in my closet and forgot all about it.

This weekend, my laundry situation got drastic to the point where I was eyeing up pajamas and wondering if I could layer them somehow to cover up the sleepy moons. I rummaged through the top of my closet and – oh happy day! – I found my cardigan!

As you can see, I wore it this weekend, to a Colin Hay concert with my mom (which was amazing!!!). As you can’t see, it still doesn’t have a closure. It is definitely too big to stay up on its own merits without looking saggy and misshapen. I asked my mom’s objective advice (before letting her know that if I didn’t like it, it would probably become hers), and she felt that fastening it at the waist (as I’d originally planned, many moons ago) would give it the right silhouette and take in the baggy areas under the arms that were displeasing me so.

Predictably, I already bought sets of hooks and eyes (and maybe even matching thread?) to create a nearly invisible waist closure. Also predictably, the thought of having to line things up and sew them on perfectly fills me with such drudgery that I may just wash this sweater and return it to the neat pile in my closet.

But… that color is so lovely, and I remember how badly I wanted this cardigan. I really ought to take the time to give it its proper closure. Soon, I hope.

Forgotten FO: Oh So Nikki Socks

I was cruising by my own blog, wondering how long it had been since I’d posted (much too long again, as expected), and I realized, with quite some embarrassment, that there was a pair of socks I finished nigh on a year ago but neglected to ever post here!

Please allow me to present my Oh So Nikki Socks, a wonderfully enjoyable, fast pattern, which I knit in a delightfully happy self-striping yarn.

Pattern: Oh So Nikki Socks by Judy Sumner, a free pattern available as a PDF on Ravelry. My project page is here.
Size: US women’s 9
Yarn: Knit Picks Felici 4-ply fingering weight, in Aurora, 75% Merino wool / 25% nylon; I used less than 2 balls, approximately 80 grams, which was roughly 350 yards/ 320 meters
Needles: Knit Picks size 1.5 (2.5 mm) DPNs, set of 5
Modifications: worked toe-up with a short-row heel

Started: February 20, 2010
Finished: March 21, 2010

These socks were a second entry into the Sock Knitters Anonymous February 2010 challenge, featuring under-appreciated patterns. To qualify, patterns were required to have less than 15 projects in Ravelry, and at the time I started these, I believe I was project #3. I was surprised more knitters hadn’t tried this pattern out, since it was so fast and enjoyable, with high-impact results.

I thought the short floats of slipped stitches which comprise the bar-like stitch pattern on every other row would add a bit of texture and visual interest to a self-striping sock yarn, without competing with the striping pattern.

I like the somewhat staccato rhythm the alternating sets of threes gives to the columns of stripes.

Of course I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t obsessively match the stripes. I know self-striping yarns aren’t for everyone, but to me, they are endlessly amusing. I find the colors of Felici uniquely special, and I think it is a lovely yarn all around. After the utter joy of knitting these socks, I made sure to treat myself to a few more balls.

I was tickled that I was able to start the toes and heels on the colors I did, and I knew I wanted to end on the teal, so that worked out perfectly.

As I’ve said several times now, the stitch pattern was crazy fast, in part because it was so delightfully addictive. I whipped through these in a very short amount of time, which always adds to my satisfaction with a project. It was important to me that these socks be absolutely stress-free, since I was working on them while taking breaks from my art history master’s thesis, and I had zero brainpower or energy to spare for knitting complications.

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To make them toe-up, I did a figure-8 cast-on and, of course, my favorite short-row heel. Obviously, the stitch pattern inverted effortlessly.

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As I related in my first post about these socks, the pattern was initially conceived for the designer’s granddaughter, and I wanted to keep that spirit of youth and playfulness to them. The yarn was just delightful to work with, and I think the end product was sufficiently charming and a burst of joy in my knitting life last spring.

If you are looking for a fun, fast, enjoyable project, I definitely recommend this pattern in a bright, colorful yarn. I hope your socks will make you as instantly cheerful as these make me.

- Previous Entries on this Project:
Two new cast-ons

My first Fair Isle

I’ve attempted colorwork haphazardly before, but this is my first real Fair Isle project. As long as I’ve been knitting, the concept of stranded knitting has eluded me, seeming closer to wizardry than a fairly easily learned skill. It turns out there really isn’t any great mystery: you knit with one color, then the other, and you gently float the yarn you’re not using across the back. That’s really it.

Of course, maintaining an even tension that results in neither floppy stitches or excessively tight strands is its own gamut, but so far, I’m cautiously optimistic about my ability to do so.

As this is a beret (specifically Kate Gagnon Osborn’s exquisite Selbu Modern), I have some concerns about it fitting my gigantic Irish head. Looking at the many projects on Ravelry, I was charmed by all the color combinations. It took me a while to come up with these two together, but it really shouldn’t have, as lately I’ve been obsessed with magenta and yellow in everything I do.

Learning Fair Isle opens up a world of possibilities in multi-color knits. I am also utterly delighted by these tiny, lovely little stitches dancing together. This is a very joyful project, which is exactly what I needed in the middle of winter.

Knitting Photography and Blogging

I made an observation the other day, while looking at my projects on Ravelry.

Almost all of my current projects use either outdated photos, old photos, or images of yarn as their thumbnails.

I made another observation while making a spreadsheet of my current WIPs to form a queue-within-a-queue, as it were, for finishing (I swear, this is completely normal behavior): I have a growing list of projects that are finished but not blogged, for want of photography.

These two observations brought me to the problematically obvious conclusion: I have become lazy about photographing my knits.

As a consequence, I have also been a very bad absentee knit-blogger, which makes me a little sad. I started this blog in part because I loved photographing and writing about my knitting projects. I like making a record of the things I do, making images of my work in its very best light, and remembering what I thought in the excitement of finishing a project. Yes, I have a big shelf in my closet with sweaters, a basket overflowing with hand-knit socks, and another basket started with hats and wintry accessories. But it’s not the same, somehow, to look at a stretched-out sock in need of washing, as to glance lovingly at that same sock when it was first knit, showcased in some of my favorite shoes or shot with a macro lens to show off its tiny, lovely stitches.

Another, and more primary, aspect of knit-blogging that I do really love is the community. I’ve “met” such lovely and interesting people through this modest little blog, and I feel like I’ve cut myself off from that discussion by ceasing to contribute for such long stretches.

I have already enumerated in the past some of the reasons I’ve struggled with photographing my knits, chief among them a lack of attractive lighting/background options, a lack of spare hands to shoot for me, hating the way I look in everything including hand-knits a lot of the time, and of course, the persistent belief that if I try another day, I can get better light/background/help/be thinner etc.

I think another reason I’ve been hesitant about photographing and blogging my knits is that there is a lot of pressure, perceived or real, among knit-bloggers to take the most exquisite, saturated, artistic, and flattering photographs of knits possible. No doubt, some of the photography I’ve seen in knit blogs has rivaled or even topped the images published in knitting books or magazines, and some of it comes close to fine art photography. But the reality is that most knitters do not double as professional photographers, most knitters are not fashion models, and it’s unrealistic to believe that every image can – or should – come out at the level of something that was professionally lit, styled, composed, and processed.

I didn’t start a knitting blog because I wanted to become a professional photographer. I’m already an artist, I make images (yes, including photographs) as their own art form, and the same way I don’t create oil paintings of my knits, I don’t really need to belabor the photo documentation as if I were making fine photography portraits or doing catalogue work.

I am hereby releasing myself from the pressure of knit-porn style photography. I will try to take nice, pleasant images that showcase the knitting’s detail, but I don’t want to replace quality in knitting with fetishistic photography.

Adding to my struggle is the recent and incredibly upsetting breakdown of my beloved digital SLR. I genuinely love that camera, and when its electronics malfunctioned and shut down, I felt a bit like I’d just learned a friend had a terminal illness. I’m going to see if I can get it repaired, and if it’s too expensive, start saving up for a new camera body. Any of these options will take time, and it seems silly to keep avoiding my knitting blog until I’ve restored my camera equipment to full capacity.

So that leaves me with a point-and-shoot, poor February light, a lot of frustration on my part, the continued struggle to find good backgrounds and take flattering photos of myself (I live alone now), and the earnest desire to get back into knit-blogging even if it means shoddy photos for a bit.

And that is going to be just fine. We’re not here to talk about photographs – we’re here for the knitting. I miss connecting with people, learning about their lives, and enjoying their knitting and crafting along with them. Let’s do more of that, please.

Craft-Adjacent

I haven’t made much time for crafting of any sort lately – I haven’t even fixed the sweater in my last post yet, which is kind of shameful.

When it came time to make my Halloween costume, I had all these grand ideas and really the best of intentions, but well… you know how it goes. I dressed as Tippi Hedren in The Birds, and in the end I was pretty happy with the way it came out.

I have always wanted to be a Hitchcock blonde, so this was a fun costume, if not my most successful crafting venture of all time.

I wrote much more about it on my regular blog, if you’re interested in the details of my silly birds and the challenge of making a costume with only corrugated cardboard and a borrowed suit.

I do hope to make some more time for knitting and crafting soon. I have all these great projects in the works and an intense desire to do things with my hands that aren’t Calculus problems. I’ll try not to be a stranger.

Quelle horreur!

Have you ever done something appallingly stupid, and you stop yourself to say, “What was I thinking?!”

Then have you ever continued to do exactly what you were doing, only to get the same results?

Yeah, I was perhaps overly aggressive in my attempts to stretch the bind-off of this sweater while blocking. “It’s wool and silk,” I figured, “that should totally stretch!” Ha. Hahaha.

The first time I snapped the thread, I thought it was a fluke. Easily fixable, though, I’d just sew the bind-off in that spot, good as new. But then I continued tugging at the bind-off (why, Vicki, whyyyyy???) and snapped it on the collar as well.

There is a lot of careful mending in my future, shoot.

FO – Katelyn Basic Sweater

It would probably be fair to call this a Learning Sweater. It started as a sweater I knit while doing the reading for a Contemporary Literature course, but it became a course in classic sweater construction for me.

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Pattern: Katelyn Basic (Ravelry link), free pattern by the Berroco Design Team
Size: Medium (39″ bust)
Yarn: Caron One Pound 10-ply worsted weight, color Forest Green, 100% acrylic; I used less than 1 skein, which was less than 453 grams/15.98 oz or 826 yards/755 meters. I will try to get a more accurate measure of yarn used in the future.
Needles: US size 8 (5.0 mm) and 10 (6.0 mm) 14″ aluminum straight needles and size 7 (4.5 mm) 16″ circular needle
Modifications: Added approximately 1.5″ length to body

Started: October 12, 2009*
Finished: January 17, 2010**

* I originally started this sweater in February 2007, as one of my first knitting projects, but I started over again in a smaller size after letting it hibernate for a few years.

**You’ll also note that the season in which I took the photos is completely different from the sweater’s completion date (I shot them in April) and of course, I am not blogging this sweater until September. I look a little different now than I did in April, but more to the point, yes, I am a massive procrastinator.

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At the time that I started this sweater, I anticipated it being my first sweater, but because I put it aside for so long, that honor went to a much less successful project (which I haven’t ever worn and still hesitate to call finished). So, while not my “official” first sweater, this is the first one that is finished to a degree where I could wear it. I started it at a time when I was obsessed with this color, in my pre-knit-blogging days.

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A sweater is easy to knit in pieces and seems to move quickly, section by section. Once I restarted in a smaller size, this sweater seemed to fly off the needles, but I dallied about for a while as I tried to determine the best way to seam it. I opted for a rather aggressive wetting-and-ironing approach which didn’t go quite so far as killing the acrylic (here I mean the actual term killing, not destroying) but gave many of its benefits, especially flattening the edges and creating a thinner, drapier fabric to seam.

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I used an excellent tutorial from Studio Knits for sewing the horizontal shoulder seams, and I’m pretty surprised and pleased with how they came out. Setting in the sleeves was nowhere near the nightmare my first few set-in sleeves were, for which I am very relieved.

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It was easy to pick up stitches for the neck band, which I knit on a size 7 circular needle. Once the upper portion was together, all that remained was sewing the side and sleeves seams, though this as a fairly massive exercise in patience and care. I had to keep reminding myself that if I’d taken all that time to knit the pieces, it would behoove me to sew them together neatly.

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The yarn became noticeably softer and fluffier after washing and drying it. I know that acrylic gets a bad rep for garments, but I really love the ease of being able to toss it in with my regular wash and have it come out softer after tumbling on low heat. Caron One Pound is certainly not the most luxurious yarn in the world, but it is super affordable and made a lovely sweater. I noticed that the parts I ironed more aggressively are floatier and lighter, with a thinner fabric that drapes a little more. I may go over some of the thicker areas to get that same effect all over.

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I’m really pleased that I finally finished this sweater, since I learned so much while knitting it. I now feel prepared to take on other, more complicated sweater designs, and I’m no longer afraid to use my nicer yarns, haunted by visions of wonky disastrous seams. I am toying with the idea of taking up a sweater a month challenge, but seeing how many years it took me to knit this one, I may not be up to that pace just yet.

Still, is there anything more satisfying than being able to say you knit your own sweater?

I’m back

I have a huge amount of life events that have gone on since the last post in this blog, and it took me significantly longer than I thought it would to get around to fixing this site. Ditto with my personal blog, which I only just got back up and running yesterday. I doubt that what you see right now will be the final look of this blog, as I know I have a number of tweaks and adjustments to make, but I am aiming for something generally simpler, cleaner, and easier to maintain.

I do have a lengthy catch-up post planned if you are interested in where I’ve been all this time and what I’ve been doing. Some of the bigger events:

  • I finished both master’s theses and completed my MFA/MS degree (finally!!!)
  • I started a second bachelor’s degree in Chemistry (long story – I’ll explain soon)
  • I went on an amazing trip to Iceland with my mother
  • I spent the rest of the summer in New Jersey
  • I’ve moved out of my parents’ house and back to NYC!

Of course, I have a fairly impressive pile of FOs to show you, as well as new projects in the works, photo essays I’ve got planned, and a number of other knitterly things.

My knitting projects and stash are still in New Jersey, but they should be joining me soon enough, and with the seductive scent of fall in the air, I think it’s the perfect time to get back into knitting and blogging. I look forward to starting anew!

FO – Fern Pattern Socks (Farnmustersocken)

When I photographed the last five pairs of socks I’d knit in one session, my father apparently asked my mother, “Just how many pairs of socks has she knit while procrastinating her thesis??” While I clarified that those were socks spread out over the past year or more, I also had to sheepishly admit that yes, there were two more pairs.

As my love of green lace is extensive and well-documented, I have to say, I really don’t see myself getting tired of it.

Pattern: Fern Pattern Socks (Farnmustersocken) by Diana Harrison, from the German magazine Wollke7; my project is here on Ravelry
Size: US women’s 9
Yarn: Knit Picks Gloss Sock 4-ply fingering weight, in Jade, 70% wool / 30% silk; I used 83.7 grams, which was approximately 367.4 yards/ 336 meters
Needles: Knit Picks size 2 (2.75 mm) DPNs, set of 5
Modifications: worked toe-up with a short-row heel

Started: February 7, 2010
Finished: March 14, 2010

I knit these as part of the Under-appreciated Patterns challenge for Sock Knitters Anonymous on Ravelry. The criteria for this challenge included that there must be less than 15 projects at the time of cast-on for a pattern to be considered under-appreciated, and in this instance, my project was the third.

I figured the reason it was obscure was because it was written in German, though I’m surprised more German-speaking sock knitters hadn’t picked up on it. Because the lace pattern was charted out, I found a very helpful German to English Symbol Knitting site that made quick sense of it, which combined with Google Translator helped me sort out all the relevant details. No longer will I be put off by patterns written in another language, with the internet here to help me!

This pattern has a lot of pluses for my personal preferences. The repeats are simple and short, yet long enough that you only need to work a few over each round. The fern shapes are built by two 8-row sequences of essentially the same pattern, shifted left or right, so the stitches and sequence of working them are almost the same. The only even remotely tricky part is that at the start of the 15th row on the chart, a stitch must be moved from the previous needle to make the pattern work. I wondered how that was going to work out, then just did what it said, and I had my answer: effortlessly.

In addition to being great fun to knit, this type of lace also has a strong visual impact and dimensionality without getting too distracting. I enjoyed working it in a solid color so that from a distance, they’d be sort of sedate, but up close you could really see the stitches, unobscured.

Working on larger than my usual needles, with the somewhat beefier Gloss yarn, made these socks move pretty quickly. I knit most of them while I was in bed sick with bronchitis (yuck), but even through a codeine haze I could tell I was going to be happy with the finished product.

I worked my standard toe starting with a figure-8 cast-on, then a short-row heel. I have to say I really love the way this yarn works at this gauge, as it makes for really neat structural elements that feel great on the feet.

I look forward to wearing these often and continuing to spread the love for green lace socks.

Previous Entries on this Project:
- Neue Socken