Monthly Archives: June 2013
How not to block a sweater
It’s been two weeks since my last post. I went away on a fabulous family holiday during which I never even looked at the internet. Not once. We went to Lebanon and were completely blown away by the place – the people, the culture, the weather, the food, the landscape, the language. I loved it. I hope to write a post about it someday soon. But this is a post about how a knitter packs for a holiday, and the sometimes stupid things that entails.
We left for the airport on Saturday morning. I had been rushing around all week trying to get things tied up, both at work and at home, so that I could get everything done beforehand and enjoy my holiday. In the back of my mind all week, however, was the state of my Neon cardigan. You see, I had only 5 inches of one sleeve left to go, and then the finishing: sewing the sleeve seams and putting in the button bands. I wanted to be able to finish the cardigan in Lebanon and then be able to wear it there. It matched everything I wanted to pack, and it is the perfect summer cardigan.
This caused a dilemma, however. I wouldn’t be able to block it on holiday. We would be staying with family who I had never met. I knew that the floors in the house would be tiled, so I would probably need a bed to block it on. I didn’t want to wash a red sweater (one that was bound to seriously bleed the first time it was washed), wrap it up in towels, and then more towels, and then spread it out on someone’s bed and pin it and let it dry for a few days. That would be rude. (Ha! Ha! This is precisely what I did to my friend Teresa last year when I was on holiday and needed to block my Killybegs sweater; I arrived at her house and within 5 minutes I had the sweater in the sink and was borrowing armfuls of towels. But you see, I have known Teresa long enough to be rude!)
On the Friday evening before we left, while still having packing to do, I decided to try to finish the sleeve, and then block the sweater before we went. This meant that I would have to block it before I sewed the sleeve seams, which after great internal debate I figured would be OK. It also meant that I would be washing and blocking it at midnight before my morning flight. There is absolutely no way it would be dry in time. But we knitters have a way of justifying the stupid and impossible. So, I wasted a few hours that were really needed for other things and finished knitting the sleeve, and washed and blocked the sweater.
I had a cunning plan, you see. Emma has a very powerful hair dryer, with a cool air setting. I set my alarm clock for very early in the morning, and came downstairs, hair dryer in hand, with the intent of blowing cool air over it until it dried. I plugged in the hair dryer, turned it on high, and aimed it at a corner of the cardigan. And then the hair dryer blew up. I kid you not. THE HAIR DRYER BLEW UP! Little pieces of plastic drifted all over my lovely Neon sweater and smoke filled the air.
OK, by now any sane person would give this up as a lost cause, right? What did I do? I spent ten minutes picking pieces of plastic off the cardigan, and then pulled out all of the pins and carefully carried it on the towel outside. Remember it was still pretty early in the morning so the sun hadn’t carried into the back garden. I had to put it out in the front walkway. To make things worse, the wind was blowing like mad, and little petals from the trees were blowing around in the wind. The sweater would not stay in place.
So, I ran back in the house and grabbed two shoes, and ran back out, in my nightgown (did I forget to mention I was still in my nightgown?) and placed the shoes on the sleeves to try to hold the sweater in place:
In the taxi, I turned to my daughter and said “Hey Emma, how would you like a brand new hair dryer?”
As a final note, I was so busy on my holiday that I didn’t knit on Neon at all. I forgot that finishing work took concentration and this was the kind of holiday for mindless knitting, if any. So Neon came back home in the same shape she left, only drier. And this has been my tale of how not to block a sweater.
Ormolu
The photo above was taken by Emma when I finished knitting the pullover in February 2011. I really think the fit is lovely. These days, knitters tend to make fitted sweaters by knitting them in one piece and trying on constantly while knitting to fit; this one is knit the old fashioned way – in four pieces, which are then seamed together. This means that fitting it properly entails taking very thorough measurements, taking your time to make and wash a proper sized gauge swatch, using a tape measure obsessively throughout, trusting in yourself, trusting the designer, and keeping your fingers crossed.
(I can tell that these photos were taken two years ago, because although I wear Ormolu constantly, I can no longer zip up the skirt in the above photo; alas!) You can see in the above some of the lovely shaping details along the sides. Many fitted sweaters today I think look beautiful from the front and gap in the back; this one truly fits, from every angle. The moral – Knitters, don’t be afraid to seam!
The pattern is very well written. Barbara Gregory has done a lot to promote this slip stitch colourwork technique, in which only one colour is used on a row. It produces intricate-looking mosaic colour patterns with considerably less work than Fair Isle. This is the same knitting technique, by the way, used in the Brick sweater which I knit for Doug. If you want to do colourwork but Fair Isle intimidates you, I would urge you to try this technique first. My favorite part of the pattern is the neckline, in which a third colour is incorporated, to really great effect.
And, because we knitters always want to see the reverse side, here you go:
I used Rowan RYC Cashsoft DK in purple and navy. I had a difficult time picking out a colour for the neck detail. The yarn I ended up using (which unfortunately, I failed to either write down or keep the ball band) looked fairly brown and boring on its own. I was aiming for gold, but all of the yellows looked too brass, and the browns looked too, well, brown. So, I tried a lot of options: here are three of them:
I am glad that I went with the golden hue. When knit with the navy and purple, it really looks like gold, and makes me think of fine metalwork. This was obviously the inspiration for Barbara, as you can tell from the pattern’s name. From Wikipedia:
Ormolu /ˈɔrməluː/ (from French or moulu, signifying ground or pounded gold) is an 18th-century English term for applying finely ground, high-carat gold in a mercury amalgam to an object of bronze.
I made a few minor modifications to the pattern, which I detailed on my Ravelry page, but I will copy them here, for those of you who may be interested:
- I knit all the right side stitches – no purl bumps.
- I added waist shaping. The pattern called for 6 waist decreases, followed by six increases for the bust. I made 8 pairs of decreases, followed by 10 pairs of increases. This means that I had 4 extra stitches on each side when I got to the bust, making it midway between the size 38 1/2 and the size 41 1/2. This gave the sweater zero ease.
- I loved the garter stitch ridges that Barbara designed; however, I found that they wouldn’t stop rolling. After knitting about 6 inches of the front, I decided that I wouldn’t be happy with the edges rolling up all of the time, and I ripped out and started again, this time using seed stitch instead of garter. I also used seed stitch for the neckband.
- I made it longer. I was aiming for an extra inch and a half, but somehow ended up with an extra 3 inches. I started the decrease pairs on row 24 instead of row 14 of Chart 2.
I fear that I have gotten carried away here. This post is a Wearability Wednesday post, after all, and here I am blathering on about construction details. However, this pullover pre-dates my blog so I thought it necessary to give a little background on the project itself before I move on to the important issue of Wearability.
I have a necklace that looks perfect with it, as if they were designed to wear together. Interestingly, this necklace is the first piece of jewelry I ever bought for myself. I was a teenager when I bought it. It is a reproduction of a piece from the collection of the Metropolitan Museum in New York. I used to live a block away from the museum and I had a yearly entry pass; I practically lived there. I saw this piece in the museum shop and had to have it; at the time it was an expensive purchase. That was over thirty years ago, and I still love this piece. (I wish that all of my purchases were so timeless.)
My only issue with the wear of this sweater is that it pills. It is not an out of control pilling; but definitely there. The yarn (which has been discontinued) is a blend of Merino, microfibre and cashmere. I am not sure which yarn I would use if I were to knit it again, but I would definitely check on the pilling issue before I picked one.
I once had a few sessions with a stylist about exploring my personal style. I wore the Ormolu pullover to one of these sessions, and she told me that it would look fabulous with a camel skirt. I don’t know why this never occurred to me. I have been looking for the perfect camel skirt to wear with it ever since. In fact, I have put off doing a Wearability Wednesday post about Ormolu, in the hopes of finding the skirt first so I can show you what a brilliant combination it is. I want a wool camel skirt that comes to just above the knee, with box pleats front and back. Some day, I will find just the right skirt and maybe that will necessitate a further post, but until then, I will keep the navy vibe going.
We are about to depart on a family holiday, so I won’t post on the weekend, but will return soon after a week in the sun!
Following the crowd
I have never been good at following the crowd. While my friends drooled over Jane Austen, I was obsessed by Edith Wharton and Henry James. When the whole world was disco dancing, I was busy folk dancing. At college, when ripped jeans and tank tops were de rigeur, I was in skirts and heels. When I had to travel to Barcelona or Bilbao to buy a cute dress at Desigual, I was so there; now that I can buy it on the high street in my local town (or, God forbid, on Amazon) it has lost much of its appeal.
When I was young, knitting was not a cool thing to do, not by a long shot. I took my knitting everywhere. Now, however, knitting is trendy. I still find myself reluctant to follow the crowd, but I am not about to put down my needles and take up book binding just to buck the trend. These days, with knitting, this rebelliousness asserts itself in my reluctance to jump on trends. As an example, I have never knit a sock, though for a few years sock knitting was THE thing. I even went to a three-day sock knitting workshop (an expensive one), where I managed to finish a sweater, cast on a skirt, and knit about 2″ of a sock. I can be wildly excited about something, but as soon as I realize that everyone else is doing it, my enthusiasm tends to wane. Yes, I know, this is terribly infantile.
This is a rather roundabout way of introducing my topic: the Colour Affection Shawl, by Vera Välimäki (pictured above). This shawl was originally a collaboration between the designer, Veera, and Sarah Dimond of The Plucky Knitter. The yarn was produced by Sarah as a kit and sold with the pattern. For the first few months, the pattern was only available as part of a kit. Sarah is known for her sense of colour and her ability to put together interesting combinations.
I saw the pattern on a forum, which announced that Sarah had put together 20 or so different colour combinations, and that these would be put up for sale at a particular time on the internet. I looked at my watch; they would go on sale in minutes. I could tell from the forum, and from what I knew of The Plucky Knitter, that they would sell out instantly. I would be lucky to get one. I had barely any time to choose a kit. I looked through the options, picked one out, and then asked Emma which she liked. She picked out the same one, Parlour Games, I figured that was a sign, the sale went live, I pulled out my credit card and snagged a kit. I later found out that I was in a lucky minority. Hundreds of unhappy knitters missed a chance; they truly did sell out almost instantly. Sarah went on to put up another round of kits, and then another.
I wrote a post when I got the yarn, so pleased by the absolutely beautiful colours. Here is a photo Emma took:
I had a few projects on the go at the time, so I waited a bit to start knitting. Then, I encountered a bit of a snag. I decided to wind the yarn into balls. I do all of my winding by hand. I started with the pink yarn. (The colours are called Faded Grandeur, Elegant Elephant and En Vogue, but for the purpose of this post, they will be green, grey and pink.) This was also around the time that I had an issue with colour bleeding in a different project, which I discussed in this post. This was a sweater knit in a slip stitch pattern in red and white. The red dye bled and the project was useless. I ended up throwing it away. I realized belatedly that I should have washed the pink yarn, while it was still skeined, to make sure that all of the dye was released. Once I had it balled, I couldn’t wash it, and I was very reluctant to re-skein it for the purpose of washing. This is a long way of saying, that I began to fret about whether the pink would bleed, and so once again put the Colour Affection shawl on hold.
Now, while this was going on, the shawl began to be very popular. Sarah couldn’t produce enough kits to meet demand. Then, the pattern was made available independently and knitters started knitting it in lots of different yarns as well. Some knitters made 5 or 6 or 7 of them. I began to lose my interest. And all of this was before Stephanie Pearl-McPhee stepped into the picture. Yes, the famous Stephanie of the Yarn Harlot, knit blogger extraordinaire, wrote a post about the popularity of the Colour Affection Shawl at a knit workshop she had attended, and before you could say boo, thousands of knitters were making it. I think this is great for Veera, who makes lovely designs, and great for Sarah, who makes lovely yarn. However, it immediately made my infantile inner knitter say “I don’t want to make that.” Why, oh why, do I do this? Wouldn’t it be more sensible to think “Thousands of knitters can’t be wrong.” But the honest truth is, the more Colour Affections (CAs) I saw on the internet, the less I wanted to make them.
It may not just be it’s popularity which has cooled my interest; I am astonishlingly fickle. However, as the number of CAs on Ravelry fast approaches 10,000 (yes, 10,000 – you go, Veera!) I find myself searching for some other use for the yarn. Now that I am knitting with Plucky yarn for the first time (for my Neon cardigan), I am even more determined to find a good pattern for these three beautiful skeins. I have thought about using them separately, for example knitting a pair of mitts from the pink, and maybe a cowl with the green and grey, but one of the things that attracted me to this kit in the first place is how great these three look together. So, for the benefit of my curious readers, here are my current options (those of you who are not curious, can stop reading here – though you would miss some pretty photos.)
I love the pattern Pop Spots by Juju Vail. It is becoming popular as well, though not quite on the same scale (yet) as the CA.
Veera had published a new pattern, which being new has not yet taken off like the CA, which I think is very cute:
There are two other shawl patterns that I think would look fabulous with this yarn. Each of them uses four colours of yarn, however, instead of three, so I would have to obtain another skein (probably in a darker grey). One is called All the Shades of Truth by Laura Aylor, and I think it is stunning:
The other pattern is called Eden Prairie and is designed by Nancy Whitman. This one was inspired by a piece of Prairie-style stained glass:
Red lace and sunshine
My knitting mojo has been on holiday the past few weeks, hopefully somewhere warm with pina coladas and a pool. Life has been somewhat hectic, and when I have had some down time I’ve spent it with my nose in a book. When I do pull my needles out, I’ve been working on Neon. As it is a summer cardigan, and summer is with any luck on its way, it makes sense to concentrate on this one.
Last weekend, I woke up early, pulled on my Killybegs cardigan, grabbed my coffee and sat out in the garden knitting. As the sun warmed up, I shrugged off the Killybegs, and draped it over the back of the chair. I went in to get another coffee, and when I came outside, Emma was standing with her camera, taking photos of the chair draped in the lovely green Donegal wool of Killybegs and the vibrant red of the Neon. Just looking at the photos makes me happy.
The sun has peeked out again and I will run out and take advantage of it. Here’s hoping my knitting mojo gets tired of pina coladas and comes home to challenge my books to a showdown.