10 July 2011
A long time ago in a city far away, I started a jacket.
Three years and three months later it’s finished.
It’s an interesting exercise to finish something that had a long hiatus in the middle of its making. I can see how much I’ve learnt in the interim.
For example, that knitting both fronts of a cardigan at once is a good idea, because then they are much more likely to be the same size and shape (even with aggressive blocking one of the fronts is shorter than the other).
And that yarns of different fibres will drape differently, which means if they are mixed up on one garment, unexpected things will happen. In this cardigan I used wool for the trim (the darker burgundy) and alpaca for the rest. The wool is heavier than the alpaca, so it tends to drag down the sleeves and the body. On the body I don’t mind so much as I like my tops long, but on the arms it has turned the bracelet-length sleeves into full-length ones.
Still, I like it enough to wear it. And I especially like the vintage buttons I found stashed away, which were the perfect colour for it. I’m not sure how old they are, except that they are advertised as ‘boilprooof’ (which would date them to a time when coppers were more common than washing machines) and marked in pre-decimal currency (which would date them to before 1966).
:: details ::
:: yarns :: Jo Sharp Classic DK (trim), Eki Riva Natal and Eki Riva Supreme Superbaby (main, held together)
:: pattern :: #21 Oxford Jacket by Joan Forgione, from Vogue Knitting, winter 2007-08
:: ravelry link :: because my wardrobe is too grey
:: inspired by :: Katherine Hepburn and Lauren Bacall – definitely a cardigan to wear while swapping witticisms with Humphrey Bogart
23 June 2011
A jacket for my new nephew. Chunky and warm to keep out the cold Glasgow winds. Started on Bells’ deck on a 40 degree summer day, finished as winter closed in.
:: details ::
:: yarn :: Bendigo Woollen Mills Rustic 12 ply
:: buttons :: japanese felt buttons from purl soho
16 June 2011
Here is where it started, and now it is finished.
Green is not an easy colour for me. Most shades of green drain the life out of my face and make me look ill and tired. About the only shade that works is this bright olive shade, the colour of a new leaf. When I started this project, it was election day, a long winter was grinding on, I had come to the end of a long project at work – green represented the idea that winter might end, that things might change, that there might be new things to work on.
And winter did end, and things changed in unexpected ways, and there are always, always, new things to work on.
I wanted this jumper to be a bit loose, a bit long, for dagging about the house with a pair of jeans. If I was making it again I would keep the sleeves narrower, and maybe not make it quite so long. And I do kind of wish I’d made it with a little more of a I-borrowed-this-from-my-boyfriend look, maybe with a v neck and no fancy edges.
The yarn was a disappointment. It was a bit splitty, a bit fluffy, and impossible to join or shape without the join showing. The neckline looks quite messy as a result.
More pictures and details follow.
2 February 2011
:: pomatomus socks
Presenting the first pair of home-made socks that I’ve been happy with. My previous attempts have been too big, a gift, and too ugly. These ones are snug, pretty, and all for me. I really love the stitch pattern as well, and I’m keen to use it on something else soon.
They should not have taken as long as they did (erm, over a year) – I was making good progress and then decided to take them on the plane to London in May last year, thinking that a 28 hour plane flight would be perfect for getting some knitting done. However, a 28 hour flight mostly at night, with dim lights, small needles, dark yarn, and a complex pattern is a recipe for disaster. I ended up ripping back to the gusset three times before giving up.
When I picked them up again over the Xmas break, it was embarrassingly obvious that the problems I’d had were not entirely the fault of the dim lights, small needles and dark yarn. Much of it was me overconfidently not following the instructions because it looked obvious to me what needed to happen.
(Yes I know. Following the instructions leads to a better outcome. Who knew?)
I made two modifications to the pattern: I used 2.25mm needles, because all my previous sock attempts have come out too big; and I modified the toe slightly to better accomodate my short wide feet.
yarn :: Blue Moon Fibre Arts, Socks that Rock, Haida
pattern :: pomatomus, from knitty, designed by Cookie A
4 January 2011
It’s a hand towel. Given to my mum for Xmas. She seemed to like it, but insisted it was ‘too good’ to use as a handtowel, and so we had a brief, polite, ‘don’t-ruin-Xmas’ spat about that.
More pictures and details after the break.