I was looking through some old photos today and came across this:
Yes, this is me in Paris, in 1987. Note that I am wearing a hand-knitted top and skirt. This top was a favorite and I wore it frequently. Like most of my old knits, I have no idea what happened to it. (See here for a post about long-lost sweaters; it is so sad to lose track of hand-knitted items). I used a pattern for the top, which I believe was a Pingouin pattern, although I can’t find it in my knitting book collection. The yarn was a cotton in bright yellow with slubs of white. No notes of any kind remain (my post-Ravelry knitting is much better documented).
I knit the skirt without a pattern. It is just two rectangles, seamed at the side, with elastic at the waist. It is knit in cotton. I wore this outfit all over France that summer.
PS – If you’ve never heard of the Wayback Machine (or WABAC Machine), that’s just sad. You can read about it here. Mr. Peabody says so.
Exhibit 1: I am in Sommières, a fantastic spot in the south of France. Doug and I are attending a workshop on language and mind. It is the best type of workshop, with a small group of very smart people doing some serious science, and also cooking and eating together, and enjoying the sunshine and the beautiful town, while staying in a lovely villa.
Exhibit 2: I have done something terrible to my thumb. I do not know what it is or how I did it. But it means that I can’t knit. (Or do anything which entails using two hands.) I brought a knitting project with me – my Falkenberg jacket. I occasionally try to knit a few stitches and give up and stare at it longingly.
Result: Sommières, and the knitting ain’t easy.
(With apologies to Mr. Gershwin; I could not resist the pun. For those few souls who have not heard the song, the line is “Summertime, and the living is easy.” I read somewhere that Summertime is the most covered song in history. Which version is your favorite?)
Today, I had the pleasure of attending a class on 3D knitting with Olga Buraya-Kefelian. It was a real treat for me – a day of creative indulgence in London. It was a small class – the best kind – at Loop, a lovely yarn shop in Islington. I have long been an admirer of Olga’s designs – they are very architectural and striking, and show a real love of high fashion and of knitting technique.
Below is a photo of Olga, holding the Boko-Boko cowl. It is knit with a strand of wool held together with a strand of silk-wrapped steel. It gets its 3D structure from the way it is knitted, with the fabric manipulated by knits and purls and lace techniques, but the steel gives it just a touch of “oomph” which lends some integrity to the stitch pattern.
It is hard to describe the fabric, which is both incredibly stretchy, bouncy and resilient, and also formed into these fantastic dimensional shapes. Olga said it reminded her of mountains and craters. Of course, one must try it on:
The Moko Moko cowl uses a different “juxtaposition of positive and negative spaces” – to use Olga’s words. She had two examples with her, knit in different weights. My favorite was this bright red example in fingering weight wool. You can see both sides of the fabric here, and both are fascinating.
One cannot have a knitting class without doing some knitting, so I spent some time working on a swatch using the stitch pattern from the Moko Moko cowl. Here it is while I am on the first row of curls:
And here it is while I was on the second set of curls, headed back in the opposite direction:
Olga has other patterns in which she has managed to knit fabric which naturally pleats. She says it is based on her love of Issey Miyake’s work (which is both glorious and out of the price range of us mere mortals). Below is a cowl (Miura cowl) worked just in knits and purls which makes a very elegant pleated fabric. The architecture of the fabric is such that I was able to arrange it as a sculpture on the table for this photo for artistic effect, but rest assured it looks just as fabulous around one’s neck.
Here is a swatch of another 3D stitch pattern from the many that Olga showed us:
There were some new stitch patterns, as well, that Olga has been experimenting with and which I promised not to show you as the patterns are not yet released. One of them was so amazing it nearly caused palpitations among the group, who will clearly wait with bated breath to see what Olga does with it.
When I went into the class, I knew that I was going to make a Boko Boko cowl, but now I want to make all of the cowls. I want to make everything! I can’t tell you how much fun the Moko Moko sample was to knit, and how intuitive and easy it is once you’ve started. (You will not be surprised to learn that I bought yarn after the class. I will wait for another post to show you my treasures.)
I enjoyed the class so much. There were eight students. Here is a photo of us (this was the only place we could fit and the lighting was not the best for a photo):
Left to right: Erin, Maggie, Xen, May, Kelly, Briony, Fiona, and Linda.
Thank you, ladies! I had such a good time knitting with you! (I always meet the best people at Loop.) Two of the women in the class were wearing hand-knitted garments designed by Olga. I was lucky to cajole them into a photo for you.
On the left is Fiona, wearing a fantastic flowy Sakasama, knit in silk. This garment can be worn in two ways (its hard to describe but the other way is upside down so that the collar becomes the hem). You can’t really tell from the photo just how fantastic the drape of this garment is, or the shine of the silk, but the fact that Fiona has knit four of them (yes, four!) should give you some idea. On the right is May, wearing her Apex in a brilliant red. I believe May said that this was only the second sweater she had ever knit! This is pretty astonishing. I forgot to ask May the details of the yarn she used, but she has just started blogging and you can find her Apex post here.
I wrote on the blog once of a bad experience with a knitting class, in which a designer who I had admired greatly really disappointed me. This was certainly not the case with Olga. She is charming and sweet, passionate about her craft, unassuming, a good teacher, and inspiring. She patiently answered many questions, and talked to us about her creative process and about her many designing influences and experiences. She said to us: “I want to challenge you and make you so brave!” I left the class feeling challenged and inspired. (And a little bit brave as well.)
I was reading a thread on Ravelry recently in which people were commenting on patterns. I can’t remember the exact context, but one comment stuck in my head. Someone said “I won’t even look at a pattern if it’s seamed.” Why it stuck in my head now, when I have heard similar sentiments before, I don’t know. What I do know, however, is that I have also heard people say “I won’t knit a garment unless it’s seamed.”
You see, there are two primary ways to knit a sweater. You can knit it in pieces (usually 4 for a pullover and five for a cardigan) and then seam them together. Or you can knit in one piece (either bottom-up or top-down, but that is a different type of argument). In the latter case, you must come to some solution for the sleeves, either picking up stitches and knitting down, or knitting the sleeves up to the armholes and then joining to the body; in any case, the primary goal of this construction is to seam as little as possible. There are many arguments in favour of either approach. (Which are not the topic of this post.) I have always thought that there were sweaters for which it makes a kind of intrinsic sense to knit in the round; and others for which seaming is the sensible option.
I have increasingly noticed, however, that knitters often take sides, as if this is a battle line. Some designers will only create patterns for seamed sweaters and some are known for always designing in the round; most designers, I imagine, have to negotiate this potential landmine as best they can. If knitters take sides, then designers can lose half of their potential customers right from the get-go. I am not going to take sides. In fact, the point of this blog post is that I don’t take sides. You see, after pondering this for a while (and having nothing to do as I am stuck in my hotel room in Johannesburg, am too tired to leave my room, and have just finished reading my book) I decided to look at my projects page on Ravelry and add them up. (Yes, boredom will get you to do all sorts of useless things.)
What I found was this: 42 sweaters, of which 21 are knit in the round, and 21 are knit in pieces and seamed. This, I think, is the very definition of knitting neutrality. I am the Switzerland of sweater construction!
And this makes me think: are most knitters like me? Do you knit the patterns that appeal to you regardless of whether they are seamed or not? Or do you filter patterns out before you will even consider them? (Or alternatively, re-engineer any patterns that violate your preferred technique?)
Inquiring minds want to know. (Bored minds do, too.)
