It runs in the family

It occurs to me that the title of this post could be an ironic reference to our covidfest of a Christmas holiday. I tested positive on Christmas Eve, managed to not pass it on to the family through creative and annoying isolation techniques in a small space, and then, the day after New Year’s, Leah came down with it, followed by Doug, followed by Emma’s partner, and then Emma. Much of the holiday was spent playing board games (I ruled in Catan, but Doug swept the board in 7 Wonders), so perhaps it is not so strange that we fell like dominos to covid.

The title reference however, is not to passing covid through the family, but rather to the passing on of a love for craft, a much more enjoyable and fruitful inheritance. This year, Emma, Doug and I gave Leah a cool present: we secretly took one of her completed needlepoint projects to be professionally framed. It turned out great, and Leah was very surprised. Here is a photo of her with the framed needlepoint (still wrapped in plastic) on Christmas morning:

Isn’t it a stunning piece of needlework? This is a piece that she finished in 2022. It was purchased as a kit from Ehrman Tapestry, and was designed by Alex Beattie. She has quite a few completed pieces, but this is the first one that we have had framed. (Perhaps you have noticed the crane pyjamas? Or the origami cranes – also made by Leah – hanging from the plant overhead?)

Leah and I had some great conversations over Christmas about how we use craft to regulate our mood, specifically about how picking up a piece of needlework allows the mind to focus on the craft and also disengage from worrying. Both Leah and I tend to be news junkies, and with the news being increasingly depressing these days, we found that we both find solace in craft. It helps to tune out the noise and put things into perspective, while at the same time creating beautiful things.

Here is a photo of her workspace at home, where she was busy making origami stars:

They make great Christmas ornaments, buntings, even jewelry:

Another creative thing that runs in the family is the love of all things cooking: we love to shop for food, prepare food, talk about food, eat food, and doing all of these together is the best. Here are Doug and Emma at Granville Island on December 30th shopping for our traditional New Year’s Eve feast of fish soup (which this year was the best fish soup ever in nearly 30 years of cooking it):

And here they are on January 2nd (felled by Covid, not the soup):

I spent some time thinking of titles for this post. Here are some of the rejects:

Felled by Covid, not the soup

Cook, craft, and cough together: the secret to family happiness

I hope you are enjoying some family happiness this weekend, with or without a dollop of craft on the side.

Creative upcycling for your hand-knits: from skirt to pillow

Exactly ten years ago (even before I started this blog) I joined many knitters in making a Lanesplitter skirt [Ravelry link]. The pattern was designed by Tina Whitmore and published in the free on-line magazine Knitty in their First Fall 2010 edition. It used Noro yarn, a self-striping yarn in cool and interesting combinations of shades with long colour changes. It was all the rage back then. Here is a photo of mine (from 2010):

The problem with this skirt (as with many knitted skirts) is that the waistband is bulky. I never felt comfortable with this big bunch of fabric at my waist (it has a knitted-on waistband, which is folded over, seamed, and has a strip of elastic running through it). As a result, I almost never wore this skirt. (One type of knitted skirt that avoids this problem can be seen with the Carnaby skirt that I knit for Emma – blogged here and here. No elastic, and no bunching! Alternatively, if you are knitting with a thinner yarn, then an elastic waist can sometimes work really well, as with this skirt which I also knitted for Emma.) I tried, over the years, to change the waistband on this skirt to make it more wearable but never found a good solution. I recently decided to completely re-conceptualise it:

Behold! A Lanesplitter pillow!

I love this idea, and it was fun to do. First, I ripped out the waistband and undid the side seam. This left me with a rectangle of fabric knitted on the bias, which I washed and blocked.

I wanted the finished pillow to be square, but when folded over, the pillow was 4 inches (10 cm) short of square. In other words, I wanted the length to be twice as long as the width, but it was four inches short of that. So, I picked up stitches along both short ends and knitted up a 4 inch band of seed stitch on each end. (These seed stitch bands overlap in the finished pillow, so they each needed to be 4 inches). On one side, I knitted button holes, and on the other, I sewed buttons.

Then I folded the fabric together, with the right sides facing, and slightly off-center, so that the button band would be about 1/3 the way down the pillow. I made sure that the two seed stitch bands were overlapping with the buttonhole band sandwiched between the button band and the back, as you can see here:

I pinned down the sides and sewed them together.

Here you can see the seam and the overlap at the button bands. When the buttons are undone, you can slip the pillow form inside. This means that you can also easily slip it out if you want to wash the pillow fabric.

I think the pillow turned out great, both front and back:

Since knitters like to know these things, the knitted tee I’m wearing was designed by Mary Annarella and I blogged about it in this post.

There are 3,722 Lanesplitter skirts listed on Ravelry today. I wonder how many of them are getting out and about? (It’s a terribly cute skirt, so I hope most of them are!) If, however, yours is stuck in a drawer somewhere, or you have another project that seems game for a refresh, you might want to try some creative upcycling.

This and that

This post is a bit of this and that.

The Paid in Full Tank, or “How I learned to stop worrying and love the fit”

Some of you will remember this post in which I worried that I had cast on the wrong size for my Paid in Full tank.  The tank, a lovely work-appropriate wool and silk blend with a pretty lace panel up the front and back, is a nice classic piece and one which will fill a gap in my wardrobe.  I was choosing between two sizes – a 38.5″ or a 44″.  I am somewhere in the middle, and chose to go with the larger size.  After I had knit about 8 inches, I tried it on and it really felt big to me.  It didn’t look too bad, but it definitely felt really big.  In that post I asked the question: add a few more waist decreases and keep going, or rip it out and start again with the smaller size?  What I actually did was something else altogether:

I reasoned that I should just start again, WITHOUT RIPPING, in the smaller size, and then I would have two pieces which I could try on and compare.  In the photo, you can see both pieces, knit in the round, bottom-up.  The piece on the top is the new one, so you can see that I have knit farther along than I had on the first one.  In my previous post, I indicated that my choice had been between 3.5″ of negative ease or 2″ of positive ease.  As I was agonising over what to do, I re-measured myself and realised that my choice was actually between 3″ of negative ease or 2.5″ of positive ease.  I think had I been aware of this from the start, it might have pushed me more towards knitting the 38.5 and relying on blocking and the stretchiness of the lace panel to make it fit.

I did do something sneaky, however, which is that I added 8 stitches to the 38.5″. That is,  I put an extra two stitches into each side of front and back – added between the side marker and the decrease marker).  This should hopefully lead to a pretty nice fit.

Now, here is the stupid part: I recently tried on the new piece and found myself thinking “Maybe it is just a bit too tight.”  UGH!  So I asked Doug, “What do you think?  What should I do?”  And Doug responded “Why not finish them both and have two tanks in different sizes?”  DOUBLE UGH! (Note to self: this is like asking “Does my butt look big in this?  Don’t ask your husband these types of questions!)  I am pretty sure that I tried it on at a bad time and that my body image was set on negative that day (sort of like every day in which you go bra shopping)  and that everything is fine and I should just calm down and trust myself.  I have decided to take a page from Peter Sellers and learn to stop worrying and love the fit.

In any case while I was debating whether to continue with the smaller size or go back to the larger size, I realised that I needed to cast on something new.   (It is the knitting equivalent of retail therapy.)  And this leads us to:

Highland Rogue, or “How to Insert some Lovely Orange into a Grey and Hectic Week”

On February 21st, I received a newsletter from Kate Davies showing her new cowl pattern Highland Rogue:

© Kate Davies Designs

Within minutes of opening that newsletter, I ordered the six skeins of Buachaille in Highland Coo needed to make the cowl.  I very rarely impulse buy any more (just please don’t ask Doug to corroborate this statement).  This was a rare case of see it/buy it.  Nevertheless, it has been sitting in a bag for 7 months waiting for me to get around to it.  On Monday, I cast it on.

I have mostly been knitting it in the evening when the light is dim, and in that light I wonder why I ordered this orange – it seems to have a lot of brown in it.  Yesterday, I photographed it in mid-day, and it practically glows.  In the sunlight, it is a fantastic orange: rich and earthy.

I also adore the pattern and how it creates such lovely, squishy texture.  (The natural coloured yarn at the edge is temporary; it is a provisional cast on.)  I am considering not joining this in the round and instead making a scarf.  What do you think?

A friend comes to visit, or “How to get Six Pieces of Hand-knitted Goodness into One Photo”

Last weekend, our friend Julie came to visit from Geneva.  It turned out to be much colder here than anticipated and Julie asked if she could borrow some knitwear.  (“I am not sure, Julie; we have so few pieces of knitwear in this house….”)  As we left the house, I realised that between Julie and myself, we were wearing 6 items which I had hand-knit, so I asked Doug to snap a photo.  (This is not the best photo of either of us, but is by far the best of the few snaps Doug took, mostly because Julie and I couldn’t stop making stupid faces at each other.)

This photo reinforces why I love hand-knitting and why slow fashion matters. These items will stick around and be worn for years. I am wearing my Form pullover, my Cool Boots Shawl, and my Skelter hat.  By the way, given the discussion above regarding fit, you may enjoy my first, completely ridiculous, attempt at the Skelter hat, which you can see here.  Julie is wearing my Ocean Waters pullover, Doug’s Business Class Cowl, and my Peerie Flooers Hat.  (That last linked post was written in 2011 which shows how long I have been writing this blog.)  Here is a shot of Julie where you can see the pullover better:

What is better than wearing multiple hand-knits?  A gorgeous sunshine-filled autumn day to wear them in!  And that is what I have today.  So, I will say good-bye and grab my hiking boots!

On Form

I finished knitting my “form” pullover and I love it!  It is fantastic!

I love everything about this sweater.  It is comfortable, wearable, light as a feather, RED, stylish, shapely, and, oh yes, RED!  What is not to love?

The pattern, designed by Lori Versaci, is beautiful.  I had some trouble at the start figuring out how to put together the neck bands (which I blogged about here).  Lori very kindly responded to my email with a couple of photos, which helped explain the process.  Once I got that sorted out, however, and got on my way, this sweater practically knitted itself.  I am a pretty slow knitter, and this took me just under 4 weeks – and for two of those, I was practically catatonic with flu and didn’t manage to knit much at all.

The pattern has two length options and two sleeve length options.  I choose the longer length and the longer sleeve length.  I think the look is very 1960s. I have a collection of Vogue Knitting magazines from the 1960s and many of the sweaters had this kind of a feel to them.

The boat neck collar is one of the cool features of this sweater.  Here is a peak at the shoulder:

Other things I love about this are the compound raglan sleeves which are perfectly formed; the armhole depth is perfect, allowing me to move comfortably and naturally and without feeling constricted.  The sleeves are roomy but in a way which I think looks chic rather than loose.  The A-line shaping in the body is lovely; and the positioning of the increases makes it drape so nicely.  Really, I love everything about this pullover.

I don’t have a lot of detail shots, because I am recovering from a bad flu; I gave Doug just 5 minutes to take some photos before I came back inside and collapsed by the fire.  It is, however, lovely in every way.  (It is also unblocked!  And I don’t think it needs any blocking.)

I followed the pattern, EXACTLY, except for two small details: I used German short rows, and I did not do the tubular cast-on or cast-off.  I used my standard, every day cast-on and cast-off.  Why?  Three reasons:

  1. I am lazy.
  2. I didn’t think it would really matter much given the mohair which makes for a fuzzy edge in any case.
  3. I am lazy.

I knit this holding two strands of yarn together.  The first is Isager Spinni, a light fingeringweight 100% wool in Red, and the second is Shibui Silk Cloud, a laceweight mohair and silk blend in the colour Tango.  I used less than 3.5 skeins of each, which means the whole sweater weighs about 270 grams.  Like wearing a cloud!

I knit it with a US7 needle, which resulted in a gauge of 21×30.  The pattern calls for 20×32.  Lori has two samples on the pattern page – one is knit with 4″ of positive ease and the other with no ease.  I was hoping for something in the middle, around 2″ of ease.  I could knit a size 42, giving me 1/2″ of ease, or a 46, giving me 4 1/2″ inches.  Given that my gauge was a bit off, I knit the size 46 and ended up with 44″ across the chest, a perfect 2 1/2″ of ease.

Because I am sick, I haven’t taken the time to dress it up for the photos, but this will be a fantastic work garment, and will also dress up nicely.  (The best I could manage today  was a pop of red lipstick and a fantastic coat!)

It has been a long time since I have knit the same sweater twice, but I am already dreaming of another “form”!

It’s mitten time again!

Yesterday a fantastic anthology of craftivism mittens and mitts popped up in my pattern highlights section on Ravelry.  It is a collection of designs called Join Hands, and as I was savouring the patterns, I realised that it was time for another post about great mitten patterns (previous posts include Merry Mittenmas!, A dozen great patterns for fingerless mitts, and Mittens!). This seems to be becoming an annual feature on the blog, one which I am more than happy to continue.  So, without further ado, here are my picks of the season.

We must do better by Dianna Walla

© Dianna Walla

I like all of the patterns in the Join Hands pattern ebook, but this is one of my favorites.  I love anything Dianna Walla designs (she is a fantastic blogger as well; check her out here).  These mitts really speak to me, both for their meaning and for the great lines of the design and the very simple but bold patterning. The proceeds from the ebook will be split equally between the American Civil Liberties Union and the Southern Poverty Law Center, two worthy organisations!  The phrase “We must do better”, knitted around the cuffs, is taken from the book We Should All Be Feminists by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

Iznik by Barbara Gregory

Crissy Jarvis © Barbara Gregory

Barbara Gregory’s designs are nearly always winners in my book.  I love her use of colour and whimsy.  (I knit one of her sweaters which I blogged about here.)  She puts out great mitten patterns every year.  This year I was taken with the design called Iznik.  I am a big fan of tiles, and the Iznik tiles and pottery from Turkey are very distinctive and beautiful.  She uses duplicate stitch for the third colour, so these are not as difficult as they appear, using two-colour stranded knitting throughout.

Petronela Mittens by Anna Lipinska

© Anna Lipinska

This year I seem to be attracted to big, cosy mittens.  I have a cold right now, so perhaps that factored into my selection, but it seems to be a trend on this list.  These mittens are very spare but look like just the right thing to wear for a brisk winter walk.  In fact, these mittens are almost enough to make me wish to take a brisk winter walk, which is saying a lot.  I like these in natural colours but could imagine making them in almost any shade.  Make them for your teenagers and watch them not be able to text.

Herati by Sari Nordlund

© Nicole Mlakar

I like almost anything from the Pom Pom Quarterly.  This pair of mittens really caught my eye (not hard to do with this sumptuous shot – all those beautiful reds and golds).  These are knit with Quince & Co Finch, a favorite yarn, and I just might have these very colours in my stash!  I hesitate to knit mittens without a gusset (see my post To gusset or not to gusset) but these have been circling around in my brain and could very well end up on my needles.

Black and White Mittens by Carolyn Vance

© TKGA, 2017

These mittens are published in a journal called Cast On, The Educational Journal for Knitters, Winter 2017/18; it is published quarterly by The Knitting Guild Association, a non-profit organization.  This suggests that this pattern is educational; I just think it’s cool.  I am attracted to geometrical prints and also to black and white patterns. These are knit in sport weight yarn on tiny needles, to get a gauge of 10 stitches to the inch in pattern.  The design uses a technique called twined knitting – I don’t know it (I guess that is what makes this educational), but can also be knit with traditional stranded stockinette.

Lines Mittens by tincanknits

© tincanknits

I love what tincanknits do with colour, but this pattern shows how great they are with natural shades as well.  I really like these mittens – I love how the grey and white play against each other, I love the geometry of the lines, and I especially love the photo.  If I had these, I would hang around on cliffs all day waiting for someone to photograph my hands artfully arranged against the rocks.  These are knit in a cashmere blend, by the way, which makes me want them even more.

Tveir Fingerless Gloves by Ella Gordon

© Ella Gordon

I had to include this very Christmas-y design here.  These fingerless gloves are so cheerful and pretty.   They make me think of eggnog and gingerbread and wrapping paper and Christmas tree ornaments.  It’s a very sweet pattern, from the Shetland Wool Week Annual 2017.

Pink Pine Pair by Nataliya Sinelshchikova

© amirisu

These are fantastic mittens with a super interesting construction. I covet these, in the exact colours.  I want this pop of pink!  And then maybe I would make a pair with a pop of red!  Or a pop of orange! Or a pop of purple!  Maybe I need many pairs!   I have never heard of this designer and this is her only pattern on Ravelry, but if this is the first she is off to a good start.

I hope this post inspires you to knit a pair of mittens.  I believe there should be a design for everyone in this selection (including all of those on your gift list).  Happy knitting!

Failure, resilience, and knitting

I have been thinking a lot this week about the nature of resiliency.  Why?  As Programme Director for a global MBA, it pops up a lot on the job.  It turns out that resilience is important:  it is a key quality of effective leaders and managers, it is vital for companies trying to survive in fast-changing business and technological environments, and it is an important factor in whether students will flourish and grow (not to mention graduate) during their MBA studies.  Given how crucial resilience is, we might think about how one develops it.  How does one learn to be resilient?  Well, it often derives from failure.

I once read an essay written by a professor at an Ivy League university who had served for decades on admission panels. He commented that these elite schools have a tendency to accept students who have never failed at anything.  These students arrive at university and suddenly find themselves in a high-stress environment filled with high achievers who have always been at the top of their class. The point of the essay was that these students often turn out to have very poor resiliency; one little setback and they crack.  A history of continual success can lead to perfectionism and unrealistic expectations.  On the other hand, exposure to failure often leads to resiliency and the development of skills which allow you to pick yourself up and flourish. This professor speculated that accepting students who had overcome barriers or difficulties would be a better barometer of success.

One of the things which I try to impart to students is that failure can be good; that success is built upon learning from mistakes.  This is true of business and true of design – a good design usually develops by prototyping, an iterative process which often consists of getting things wrong in order to get them right.  Many successful companies develop this way too, starting small and building on mistakes, a type of constructive prototyping analogous to the design process.  I try to give students skills to help them become more adaptive and more resilient; I encourage them, in the safe space of the classroom, to push past their comfort zones and embrace risk.

Why am I blabbing on about resiliency and failure in my knitting blog?  Well, we knitters can tell you people one or two things about failure! Knitters positively crow about their failures!  Ripping and frogging (that is, pulling out your work by unravelling it) is almost a badge of honour.  We learn by doing, and often that means learning by doing it wrong. It helps, of course, that knitting is so intrinsically unravel-able (I made up that word!): if you don’t mind the loss of time and effort, almost everything in knitting is fixable by ripping it out and starting again.

Not only are we knitters experts at failure as a part of the learning process, but we do it with a sense of humour! If you don’t believe me, you can look at some of my posts detailing failed efforts, like How to be stupid at knitting, How not to block a sweater, and Stupidity strikes again!

Business consultants, self-help gurus, professional coaches – even futurologists – make a fortune by teaching people to be resilient.  We knitters have no need to pay for such advice.  We learn it the natural way!

Knitters of the world, stand up straight and proud, and repeat after me:

“I AM A KNITTER!

I LAUGH IN THE FACE OF FAILURE!

RESILIENCE IS MY MIDDLE NAME!”

This and that

Here is a little bit of this and that.

1.  I changed the needle on the Tinder cardigan and it seems to be helping:

In my last post, I noted that I was not happy with the feel of the yarn, Shelter by Brooklyn Tweed.  I had been knitting it with my Knit Pics circulars, the gorgeous wooden needles you can see draped over the knitting in the above photo.  I have switched to Chia Goo metal circulars and I can report that the change has made the knitting a bit more enjoyable.  (I love my Chia Goos.)  Obviously, the needle makes a difference; with some yarns I prefer a wood needle, with others metal, and with others bamboo.  I think that I started this project using the Chia Goos and switched to the Knit Picks when I was flying; I am always worried that metal needles will get confiscated by over-zealous security personnel.

2. I am making progress on the cowl I am knitting with the lovely Woolfolk yarn, Tynd:

This yarn is actually a much prettier bronze-toned brown, but I just can’t seem to get the camera to capture it.  In every photo, it looks pretty washed out and boring but in real life it’s a richer hue. It is so lovely to knit with – I will certainly have more Woolfolk yarns in my future.

3. I cast on a little something on the plane last week.  This is the lovely skein of Shibui Silk Cloud in the colour Tango which I bought as a part of my birthday present.  I have only one skein, so this is destined for a light, lacy cowl.

4. Speaking of that birthday present, I set up my swift and ball winder earlier this week and caked the rest of the Shelter skeins for Emma’s cardigan.  While I was at it, I caked up these two skeins of Kate Davies’ lovely Buachaille, in the colours ptarmigan and yaffle.

Oh, I love this yarn.  I will be casting on soon to make Kate’s Funyin hat:

© Kate Davies Designs

5. I mentioned some weeks ago that I had purchased the kit to make Marie Wallin’s new pattern, Wren.  I’ve so far neglected to show you any photos of the yarn, so let’s rectify that.

The yarn is Titus, by baa ram ewe, and is just luminous.  I think this is going to be a very fun knit.

Just posting these photos makes me want to cast on immediately!

6. Last but not least, while North American knitters are waxing euphoric over this week’s New York Sheep and Wool Festival, otherwise known as Rhinebeck, I direct you to my post from last year, entitled “Warning! This post is not about Rhinebeck!”.

I will be teaching all weekend, so there won’t be much knitting happening chez Knitigating Circumstances over the next few days.  To all of you knitters at Rhinebeck and elsewhere, have fun!

 

How to make a long flight bearable: the knitter’s solution

In the past five days, I have flown from London to Johannesburg and back again!  That is a seriously long way to fly for such a short period of time.  I was there on business (to teach a workshop) and so can’t even give you many impressions of the city; I had no time for sight-seeing.  I can tell you that everyone I met was super-friendly and that the students I taught were amazing – so dedicated and optimistic and smart!

I approached the flight as any knitter would: what project would make the best airplane knitting?  I had finished up all the projects I had been working on so needed to find something new.  It had to be lightweight, take up no room in my handbag, and be fairly monotonous and repetitive.  There was one obvious choice.

Last year, I bought a dozen balls of Rowan Kidsilk Eclipse in the colour Virgo, just after it was discontinued.  I used five balls to knit my Gossamer pullover, but put seven balls away with the intention of knitting another Reversible Cabled-Rib Shawl.  I knit one years ago, in a vibrant grass-green, and it remains one of the favorite things I have ever knit.  You can see it in this post, where my enthusiasm for the project is hard to miss.

This shawl will be gorgeous in the Eclipse!  It knits up incredibly sheer, with lovely texture and movement.  The pattern was designed by Lily Chin for the Winter 1999/2000 edition of Vogue Knitting.  It has since been published in many anthologies of Vogue Knitting patterns and can also be purchased on Ravelry (link).  The green one took me over 18 months to knit!!!!  Not, I might add, because it is difficult, but because it is a boring and monotonous knit and kept getting put aside for more exciting projects.  I can say with absolute authority, however, that this shawl is worth every minute of knitting time.

I can also say, that with 4 more trips to Johannesburg planned this year, I am likely to finish this one in less time!  I have a good 18 inches done (unblocked), which means I have one-quarter of the shawl already knit.

 

And now, I think, I deserve a nap!

My yarn has opinions

I can’t help but spend time staring at my beautiful, sunny hand-dyed merino and silk yarn from The Uncommon Thread:

I ordered the yarn to knit the Aisance cardigan pattern with it.  But, truthfully,  I must admit that the more I stare at this lovely yarn,  the less I feel that it wants to be an Aisance:

© Carrie Bostick Hoge

Yes, my yarn has opinions.  It knows what it wants to be.  Unfortunately it doesn’t speak, so part of my job is to be an interpretive artist.  It’s a hard job, but someone has to do it.

I still want to knit Aisance, but maybe not with this yarn.   As with most hand-dyed yarn, there is a fair bit of variation in colour both within and across skeins, so it would need to be alternated.  However, it is hard for me to see how best to alternate skeins in Aisance –  it is knit in one piece and the long edges of the fronts need to be very neat and sharp.  Once doubt settled in, it was hard to shake.  My yarn could sense my doubts and took advantage.  “Find another pattern,” it said.  “Find the PERFECT pattern for ME.”  (I have tried, believe me, to coax my yarn into being more specific.  It refuses.  It wants me to work for this relationship.  It wants understanding.)

I have spent more time than I care to admit sorting through cardigan patterns and looking at the yarn:

It is the most gorgeous shade of orange.  It is luscious.  It is happy.  This yarn is special and I want to knit exactly the right thing with it.  And although I am dying to knit with this fabulous stuff, RIGHT NOW, I won’t do it until I have the perfect marriage of pattern and yarn.  I have knit up a lovely swatch:

I like the look and feel of the fabric at this gauge, 24×36 knit on a US4, and would be reluctant to knit at a looser gauge. I am lucky to have 2000 metres (5 skeins).  My yarn and I are happy to take suggestions.

PS – This is my 200th post.  Thank you to all my readers who keep this fun!

Knit one, crochet two

I am going to come right out and say this:  I like knitting much more than crochet.  Now, please, dear Readers, hold off on the lynch mobs.  I’ve seen tons of beautiful crochet, and I’ve also seen tons of horrid knitting.  And, back in the day, I dabbled in crochet myself, even once making a beautiful filigree blouse in fine white cotton.  It must be said, however, that both aesthetically and as a creative process, I prefer knitting.

A few months ago, when I had the very good fortune to go to the Headquarters of Rowan Yarns in Holmsfirth (you can read about it here), I was given a goodie bag.  In that goodie bag was a new pattern collection by the fabulous Marie Wallin, called Filigree, Collection 3, subtitled “10 crochet designs for women by Marie Wallin”.  Five of these designs are made by combining knitting with crochet.  And I mean this not in the sense that I normally see, in which a knitted sweater has a crocheted edging, but rather in the sense that for each of these patterns, both knitting and crochet feature as a design element.  The combination of the two modalities is an intrinsic part of the pattern.  And I have to tell you, these designs are gorgeous!

I’ll show you my three favorites here.  To look at the others (including the five crochet patterns which are also lovely) go the the Ravelry page for this booklet, or to the Rowan  page.  Here is a lovely cardigan pattern called Buttercup:

© Marie Wallin, 2015

I tink this is a charming mix of sweet and sexy.  I can imagine this styled so many ways. It’s a nearly perfect summer cardigan.  Even so, I must admit to liking the next one even more.  Here is Anemone:

© Marie Wallin, 2015

I love how this is so crisp and sharp but still girly and pretty.  Regular readers will know that I have a thing for patterns that are architectural – as soon as I saw this pattern I thought about iron filigree bridges.

In order to demonstrate to you what I meant I did a search for “iron filigree bridge” and found this lovely photo:

This is a photo of the Iron Bridge at Coalbrookdale, which was built in 1779 and is “the oldest surviving cast iron bridge in the world.”  The photo and quote come from a post from the blog The Happy Pontist: A blog from the UK about Bridges and Bridge Design.  I have only read this one post, but you can bet that I will be giving this blog a serious look.  Many years ago, I used to work on Wall Street and live in Brooklyn and I would walk across the Brooklyn Bridge to get to work.  I just love a beautifully designed bridge.

Is it just me or can you see this too?  Buttercup is, well, buttercup-y – all soft and flowery, but Anemone is sharp and edgy with  hard edges, but incorporated into a soft package.  I love it.

I think my favorite, however, is this one, Tulip:

The use of crochet in this pattern feels very innovative to me; it is interesting and fresh.  The Knit rowan site writes:

Designed by Marie Wallin using our beautiful soft matt cotton yarn Summerlite 4ply (cotton), the main section of this top is knitted in a cable and lace stitch with an unusual welt section made up of double crochet strips.

If you can, zoom in on the crocheted section.  It is really a cool design.  The design makes me think of a modern, crisp take on a 1920s flapper dress.

I love these patterns.  In fact, I love them enough to overcome my crochet bias.  I am thinking that only the amazing Marie Wallin could do that!