I have been working on my Exeter jacket again, after taking time off to knit Livvy. I finished the sleeves, and washed and blocked them:
The yarn, Shelter from Brooklyn Tweed, undergoes an amazing transformation when it is washed. I cannot believe how light and airy these sleeves are. The Shelter feels much rougher and chunkier when knitting. As soon as I took it out of the water, it seemed to have halved in weight (even while wet). It is astonishing. Exeter has a very interesting cable pattern, that combines cables and lace. Here is a close-up of the cable on the sleeve:
The cable has a 16 row repeat. It is not one of those patterns that is instantly memorizable, so you have to pay attention. For anyone who is planning on knitting this, I have two tips, which will make it easier to navigate the cable.
On the reverse rows (the even rows), you knit the knit stitches and purl the purl stitches. The yarn overs are always knit except on pattern Row 6, where they are purled. As long as you pay attention to the yarn overs on Row 6, the reverse rows are straightforward and need no concentration.
The set-up row at the beginning of the patterning establishes some stitches as knit stitches and some as purl stitches. While you are cabling, you are crossing stitches in front and behind of other stitches, but it is always the case that knit stitches will be knit and purl stitches will be purled, except on rows 3 and 7. On row 3, a knit stitch becomes a purl when it is is cabled (twice), and on row 7, a purl stitch becomes a knit (also twice).
I really love this. I especially love the way it looks on the back of the jacket, where there are four columns of cables. I have only knit a repeat and a bit of the cables on the back, but you can get an idea of how great it looks with the four cable repeatsHere is a closup of the above photo.
Now, dear readers, look carefully at the photo above. Can you see that I have made a mistake in the cabling? In the interest of truth in blogging, I will help you out:
On the left, is the properly executed cable. On the right, there is a mistake. I should have a column of two knit stitches travelling to the left, but for three rows, I have purled one of the stitches instead of knitting it. This is the kind of mistake that is very hard to catch, in fact, one could easily wear the sweater for years before noticing it. Once you know it is there, however, you see it every single time you look at the sweater, as if it is outlined in purple. In fact, there is an infamous cover of Vogue Knitting magazine, from a dozen years ago, in which the sweater on the cover has a cable mistake. I looked at the cover many times without noticing it, but once brought to my attention, it is glaringly obvious.
Now this is where we knitters have differing levels of tolerance. Some knitters will blithely ignore mistakes. They may fall into the school of thought whereby “mistakes” are charming proofs that the sweater is hand-made. (The fallacy of this is that machine-made knits are so shoddy these days, that mistakes are rampant.) Another group of knitters are fanatically anal-compulsive, and will rip out miles of knitting in order to correct any mistake, no matter how small or insignificant. This school of thought follows the “I will know even if no one else does, and it will forever make me unhappy” principle. I think the latter camp sometimes revel in their knitting masochism. I try very hard to fall into the middle. The sad truth is, I do a lot of frogging because I want things to be just right. However, I think it is sometimes important to ignore your inner perfectionist. Or at the very least, learn how to fudge. Behold!
First, I thread a tapestry needle with a small length of yarn:
Then I insert the needle at the bottom of the mistake, where I purled instead of knit, and I pull the yarn through.
Then I make a loop, and pull the yarn through the loop, as in the below photo. This will have the effect of embroidering a knit stitch on top of the purl.
When the yarn is pulled tight, we see a knit stitch, exactly where it should be.
I then repeat twice more:
By the way, what I have done here, is basically the same as what is called duplicate stitch. However, duplicate stitch is done with a different colour of yarn, and the embroidered knit stitches are put directly on top of knit stitches; this allows you to insert small areas of colour without having to knit them in with intarsia. So you see, a good bag of tricks is a knitter’s best friend.
Here is the final product:
Perfect! No one will ever know. And I didn’t have to rip. I won’t tell if you won’t.
The title of this post sounds a bit lascivious, but the sweater pattern I have been knitting is called Livvy, and the yarn is called Lush Worsted. For those of you who have googled me, this is a knitting post and Lush Livvy is a sweater. This sweater:
I finished this a week ago, but it’s taken me a while to get some photos taken. Livvy is designed by Tori Gurbisz, a fairly new designer; you can find her website here. I really found this design appealing, but I have made quite a few modifications to make it suit me and my body type. Here is one of the pattern photos:
copyright LachesisandCo
This photo shows up the design features that I really like. The collar can be worn up or down, and the cable pattern is reversible. The cables are slim and elegant, and are made by twisting stitches, thus no need for a cable needle. The cables run down the middle of the raglan increases and then join under the arm with three additional sets of cables, which then cascade down the sides of the pullover. I find this striking and elegant. It’s a very strong, simple statement. Another interesting feature is that the raglan increases are uneven, with the sleeves increasing more rapidly then the body, and this gives a really nice line along the shoulder. I think these details add up to a fantastic and intelligent design.
Here is another photo of the pattern:
copyright LachesisandCo
While I love the pattern from the waist up, I had some issues with the pattern from the waist down. I think that Livvy, as written, looks great on the model. On me, not so much. First, I am a good 20 years older, and second, quite a bit curvier than the model. I was also looking for a more elegant pullover for office wear. I could instantly see the potential in this pattern for modifications that would suit me better.
I made mine alot curvier. The pattern calls for three gentle sets of waist decreases, followed by three gentle sets of hip increases. I made six sets of decreases, and seven sets of increases. This makes for a much more fitted and curvy silhouette. I also made each set of decreases and each set of increases on the same rows as the twisted cable crosses. This gives a lovely symmetry to the shaping, and meshes with the cables in an intrinsically pleasing way, as if the decreases and increases are merely extensions of the cascading cable panel. You can see this in the below photo (taken in the bright sunshine, so the colour is a bit washed out).
Note that the above photo also shows a slight colour gradation in the yarn. I used 5 skeins of The Uncommon Thread Lush Worsted, in the colour Pontus. This colour is gorgeous and the dye job is really great. One of the skeins was slightly lighter than the other four and had a bit more variegation; I used this one for the bottom portion of the pullover. Though it’s noticeable, I don’t think it distracts from the beauty of the finished piece. The richness of hand-dyed yarn compensates for the slight variegation.
I also made my Livvy shorter. I find this kind of strange, because I am forever adding inches to sweater patterns; at my age, I don’t want my belly hanging out between my trousers and my top. I think the length in the sweater pattern makes a bit more of a casual statement than I was looking for. I wanted a piece I could wear to the office with tailored trousers or a skirt and heels. I knit mine almost 3 inches shorter than called for. (This may also be why I was able to knit this with only five skeins of Lush, which has less yardage than called for.)
The biggest issue for me, however, was the ribbing on the cuffs and waistband of the pullover. To me, the most interesting feature of the sweater is the panels of twisted stitches running down the sides. It is elegant and architectural. I found that the 2×2 ribbing of the cuffs and waistband seriously detracted from this design element; it broke the line and made an otherwise gorgeous feature a little less striking. I was clear right from the start that I would use some other sort of edging, but I wasn’t quite sure which. Doug suggested I try an I-cord edging. This seemed like a good idea, so I originally knit the sleeves with an I-cord bind-off. This is the only photo I have of the I-cord before I frogged it:
See how it’s starting to roll a bit? Although it is a normally very elegant finish, I found it to still be just a bit too clunky for the look I wanted. In the end, I decided to do a hemmed finish for both the sleeves and waistband. I knit in pattern to the desired length, then purled a row (the turn row), knit 5 rows and cast off. I then turned the hem and sewed in place:
I really think that the hemmed edge gives a nice, simple finish to the garment and allows the beauty of the design to shine through.
I made a few other slight modifications to the pattern. I didn’t use short row shaping on the back neck. I will admit to you honestly that I left this out solely out of laziness. I also made fewer decreases on the sleeves. I can also admit to you honestly that this is due to a mistake. I made what I thought were 6 sets of decreases on the first sleeve, and then discovered that in two of the “sets” I only decreased on one side and not both. Thus I decreased from 60 stitches to 50 instead of 48. Did this make my perfectionist inner knitter leap to the fore and mercilessly rip out the sleeve? No, I merely repeated the mistakes on the other side to make the sleeves symmetrical. Sometimes, fudging is a perfectly acceptable response.
I should also point out that I haven’t yet sewn any buttons on. The collar is designed so that it can be worn down, as I do here, or can be buttoned up to make a turtleneck. I will eventually put on buttons, when I find just the right ones, but I do think that the collar is a bit tight to actually function as a turtleneck. It may be that I will need to block it out a bit wider before I can wear it up.
To sum up, Livvy is a great pattern by a new and talented designer; I have made some modifications to suit me and my body type, which I think enhance a lovely design. The pattern itself is well-written and tech-edited. The yarn, Lush Worsted, is lovely – incredibly soft with a beautiful rich tone. It’s also a really quick knit – this took me three weeks from start to finish. The only negative thing about this Lush Livvy, is that spring seems to have just now sprung, and I doubt I will get a chance to wear it before fall. (But I refuse to complain about spring!)
The super-connectivity of modern life has transformed the craft of knitting. Thirty years ago when I was fanatically knitting in college classes and in coffee shops and on buses, I would rarely encounter another knitter. Now, I use Ravelry (an online knitting community of 3 million users) to “meet” other knitters, find patterns, get advice, follow trends, get a knitting fix, rant, find out about events, and discuss yarns, patterns, designers and techniques. I also follow “knitting blogs”; lots of knitting blogs. It is easy to find fellow fanatics once you get online.
I was taught to knit by my grandmother and mother. Every knitter I met had learned how to knit this way, from an older, usually female knitter, who would teach the basics and then hopefully be around to help fix up mistakes and provide some guidance. If you needed any help, the only place to get it was from asking another knitter, usually at the yarn shop, or buying a book and teaching yourself. Now there is youtube. If there is any knitting technique you do not know, it is almost certain you can find a video on youtube where it will be explained and demonstrated. And, unlike asking your grandmother to help you fix your mistake, youtube is never sleeping, nor in California, nor needs her reading glasses to see. Ravelry and youtube together are like having thousands of grandmothers (and thousands of young, cool, hip fashion stylists) who never sleep and have an answer to every question.
When I started out, my choice of yarn was very limited. There were a few big companies who produced mass-market yarns. Now, there are hundreds of specialty yarn producers and dyers. Many of these are small producers, who try to provide organic, ethical yarns. Many of them specialize in particular breeds, or in astonishing colours, or in hand painting yarn. There are huge and very popular knitting and wool shows where small producers can sell their wares. But their viability as businesses are based on the internet. (A word here – I love to be able to find small producers on the internet and support their businesses. I also believe, very passionately, that you should support your local yarn shops. You can do both. The world would be a much sadder place without the local specialty shop, be it for yarn or books or vegetables. And no matter how good, or how convenient, the internet, there is nothing that compares to a fine shop run by knowledgeable staff.)
My life as a knitter has been transformed by the internet. This transformation has been almost entirely positive. However, there are certain things I find annoying about the whole inter-connectivity thing (and my reaction to them). First, it is rather addicting. I spend an awful lot of time, every day, looking at knitting on the internet. I check to see what my “friends” are up to, I check to see what patterns are trending, I check to see if there are any interesting discussions taking place, I look at projects and yarn. Sometimes, these forays take a minute or two, but other times much more. Now, the sad thing about this is – when I am online, I am not knitting. In fact, I have noticed that there seems to be a trend of knitters getting so sucked into Ravelry that they virtually stop knitting all together. (You know the type – they have 4 projects on their project page but have written 32,417 posts.) And, the more time I spend on Ravelry, the less I feel I can lecture my kids to get off of Facebook.
I have a favorite group on Ravelry. I follow it religiously, every single post, every photo. It is a group in which the members strive to make 12 completed adult-sized sweaters a year. There are lots of knitters in this group, about 1500 of them, and a nicer, more supportive bunch of people is not to be found anywhere. Most of them, like me, never get to their goal of 12 (I knit 7 sweaters in 2011 and 6 in 2012). Quite a few of them manage to hit their target. This is a personal goal – there are no prizes, no penalties, just a wonderful group of people cheering you on, and providing advice, and sharing a huge love of the craft. There are also quite a few fabulous knitters, who not only knit the most amazing, technically-proficient, stylish, well-fitted garments, but who can easily knit 30 or more of them a year. I love to follow their progress and cheer them on from the sidelines. Sometimes, however, I look at yet another sweater which seems to have literally flown off the needles of one of these super-knitters, and I find myself thinking “I should knit a bit faster. Perhaps, if I knit in the car on the way to work…. or, if I knit while I’m stirring the soup….or, if I give up reading and knit instead… or perhaps, if I double my knitting speed… I can knit more sweaters in less time.”
I then have to take a deep breath and remind myself “Knitting is not a competitive sport.” I knit because I love it, not to be faster or better than anyone else. I wrote a post last year about my personal history as a knitter (you can find it here), in which I talked about my difficulties with deQuervaine’s tenosynovitis, a repetitive stress disorder, and how it led to surgery and many years of not knitting. In order to knit again, I had to purposely slow down my knitting, and I also have to purposefully limit the amount of knitting I do each day to avoid hand pain. Trying to keep up with the super-knitters would be crazy (and, let’s face it, impossible). To all you super-fast fantastic knitters: I love that you can do this. I think you are amazing. In the very back of my mind, I really, really want to knit 38 sweaters a year to your 37. But, hey, knitting is not a competitive sport. I will make a sport of watching those beautiful projects trip off your needles. And I will console myself with the fact that I spend a hell of a lot less money on yarn than you do.
On Friday, I came home from work to find a pile of packages at the door. Among them, were these lovely goodies:
A big pile of knitting goodness, which I had ordered from three different sources (in three separate months, no less) which all arrived on the same day. Furthermore, they all arrived on a cold, grey April day in which snow flurries drifted out my window all day. Christmas in April? Most certainly.
I placed an order months ago for five skeins of Plucky Sweater in the scrumptious colour called Kissin’ Valentino. It was a pre-order, sold as a kit for the sweater pattern Neon, by Joji Locatelli. This means that you order the yarn before it’s been dyed, and then have to wait for it to arrive on your doorstep. In this case, that took even longer than anticipated since the yarn was held up first by Customs, and then by the Easter holiday. I had wavered quite a bit about between red and green for this cardigan, and even once I settled on red, there were a number of different reds available. Red is always hard to capture properly in a photo, so when you order it from a photo on your computer screen, it can be a gamble. Well, this gamble paid off. The colour is smashing:
This yarn is destined for Neon, a beautiful, lacy, summer cardigan:
copyright Joji
I also received an order of completely lovely Skein yarn. I ordered this from Loop, in London, who as always were very helpful. This is Merino Silk Sport, hand dyed 50% Merino, 50% silk in two colourways, Fig and Outlaw:
Isn’t it gorgeous? I have a great project lined up for this yarn, but as there’s a story behind it, I will keep it a secret for now. You will have to check back later to see it knit up. The colours are spectacular, very rich and yet soft at the same time, like an old painting.
I also received a copy of Amy Herzog’s book, Knit to Flatter. I am really looking forward to reading it; I have always admired Amy’s blog. Perhaps I will post a review of it soon. In the meantime, I’ve got lots of knitting lined up……
Last week, the Guardian online published a list, with photos and commentary, on the 50 best-dressed over 50s. This is a twist on standard best-dressed lists which tend to favor the young and beautiful, who can usually look good in anything:
“[w]hen youth and beauty are taken out of the equation, the best-dressed competition becomes a little fairer, and more interesting…. Beauty fades; style becomes more important….because style over 50 has a depth of character with which no youngster can compete, however good she may look in hotpants.”
This list is ostensibly not about beauty but about style (though many on the list are very beautiful). It’s about finding a style that works for you, and then working it. I can’t say I agree with all of their choices, but I love the fact that they are celebrating people who have confidence in the way they dress and the way they look as they age.
(I also like some of their snarky commentary. On Judi Dench: “Owning the pixie cut since before Anne Hathaway was born”; on Carine Roitfeld: “The only woman on Earth who looks a bit like Iggy Pop, but in a good way”; on Nick Cave: “He always, always has one too many buttons undone on his shirt, but it works.”; on Kirsty Wark: “Proving night after night that, contrary to popular opinion, a woman who knows her Miu Miu from her Mulberry can, astoundingly, still have sufficient brainpower left over to be well informed on other important issues”.)
What really struck me, however, were comments from two women who made the list. The first, from Iris Apfel, age 91:
“No amount of money can buy you style …If someone says, ‘Buy this – you’ll be stylish’, you won’t be stylish because you won’t be you. You have to learn who you are first and that’s painful.”
I think I’m still trying to learn who I am, and hope by the time I get to be Iris’ age, I’ve figured it out and can make it work. (In the meantime, I’d love to sit next to Iris at a dinner party.)
The second comment was from Diana Athill, 95, a literary editor, novelist and memoirist. She had the most sensible, honest insight into style and aging that I have yet heard:
“However old one is, one still feels inside like the person one used to be. It’s a foolish mistake to try too hard to look like that person, but it would be a bit sad to look very much like something else.”
I think this shows real wisdom. I also think this balancing act is one that many women get wrong. I know my fashion misses almost always come from trying to be who I used to be, or from not paying attention to who I am. Style takes confidence and self-knowledge. I’m going to try to take these words to heart, and to grow older with style and wisdom.
