Monthly Archives: March 2014

Andamento

Back in 2008 I whipped out a design for Knit/Purl’s inaugural sock club—and I do mean I whipped it out, because those socks were imagined and knit in the space of a week. Luckily, it was one of those Athena designs that springs out fully formed without a lick of fiddling or frogging.

I knew I’d be working with a variegated yarn, a specially commissioned colorway from Koigu. Variegateds can be so very alluring on the skein, and if you handle them right they can be a lot of fun to knit and wear, too. But I’m someone who gets a little twitchy when the colors start to pool and my ankles look like barber poles. So I’ll do whatever it takes to break up that kind of patterning. In my personal experience of knitting socks with variegated yarns, I can dodge pooling on 2.25 mm needles and on 2.75 mm needles, but 2.5 mm’s are a sure ticket to big spirals of color. I really prefer to knit socks on 2.25’s (that’s US #0) for durability, but when I was planning this sock club project I knew I didn’t have time for a really fine gauge. So US #2’s it was. Also good for busting up colors that want to be cliquish: garter stitch and slipped stitches. So I quickly sketched a motif of slipped-stitch serpentines over a fabric of garter rib. (Actually, I can’t even remember if I took time to sketch it. I may have just cast on and sailed as close to the wind as possible on this occasion.) And it worked. I named that little sock andamento, Italian for ‘flowing’ or ‘coursing,’ a term used to describe the visual flow of elements within a mosaic. And five years later, the rights to it are back in my hands and I can re-release it into the wild under my own label.

AndamentoMSTurner (small)

This new sample is knit in Malabrigo Sock “Turner,” which is honestly too fine a yarn for this pattern in terms of longevity. M. Sock wants a tighter gauge, in my opinion. I couldn’t resist these subtly shifting olive and spring greens with splashes of iris purples. But I recommend a heartier yarn, something plump, with bottom—more of a sportweight, really—if you want a sturdy sock at 7 stitches to the inch.

AndamentoMSTurner (2 of 6)

We grabbed some photos at the Marquam Nature Park south of town in between rain showers. Here’s a detail of the toe:

AndamentoMSTurner (1 of 6)

And of the slightly lacy cuff (who says a sock needs ribbing at the top?):

AndamentoMSTurner (4 of 6)

I’m astonished to tell you I used a mere 225 yards of wool in these. There’s so much of the skein left over I’ve decided I need to try to knit a very wee vest for a cousin’s any-minute-now baby out of the remnants. I’ll let you know if it works out. In the mean time, Andamento is now available for purchase in my Ravelry store; you can grab a copy via the button in the sidebar. Happy sock knitting!

AndamentoMSTurner (5 of 6)

Sweater hospital

SweaterHospital (5 of 5)

What’s going on here? Matching ears to wear with a cardigan? Guess again. The edges of those funny little pieces look almost…cut, don’t they? Welcome to Sweater Hospital. Get a glass of water and have a seat if you’re squeamish about surgery. Patient #1, featured here, is Deco. She’s a Kate Davies cardigan I just couldn’t resist, knit in a yarn I love madly. But her journey into being was a troubled one. Nothing about the knitting experience was comfortable. I was plagued by fears of running out of yarn (I did; my Deco has 3/4-length sleeves to show for it) and those fears, plus a desire to finish the thing and wear it, prompted some decisions I knew weren’t very sound.

It seems to me that most designers—quite understandably—like to make what looks good on them. Kate Davies and I don’t share a body type, although at a glance we’re both slender and can wear similar shapes. I’ve learned to tread carefully in approaching designs by women who are quite a lot smaller or have different proportions than mine. I have a long torso, so I almost always need to add length, and there’s quite a difference between my hip and waist measurements, so it’s important to get the waist shaping in the right place. I didn’t achieve that with Deco. The dense fabric Kate favors means the sweater will wear very well, which I appreciate, and I’m not afraid of small needles. But this fabric is so stable that it also won’t grow lengthwise, even with aggressive blocking. I think I realized this, but I didn’t want to accept it, given how short of yarn I was. Also, this design uses the classic approach of placing all the shaping at the side “seam,” so there’s no hiding it if you misjudge the rate of decrease. I ended up with unattractive pooches of fabric intended to accommodate my hips riding up at my natural waist. Ugh. I also had gapping at the bust between the snaps. (Yes, there are buttons in that photo, but they’re just for show. There are snaps sewn to a ribbon on the facing underneath.) Poor Deco was languishing in the closet.

So what to do? This cardigan is finished within an inch of its life at the fronts. No way could I take it apart and start from scratch without hours and hours of labor just in the deconstruction phase. There is no way to cut it and add length and graft it back together once the button band is on. (Plus there’s no more yarn.) The only other way to salvage it, I decided was to cut out the troublesome darts. I’d end up with a seam from the waist down to the hem, but that seemed preferable to never wearing it at all, and I decided the sweater probably wouldn’t fall apart if I reinforced that seam properly.

SweaterHospital (1 of 5)

Oh, did I reinforce. First I mattress stitched together the two columns of stitches that needed to meet to create the fold of fabric I was going to cut off. Then I blanket stitched them together again one stitch up the fold itself, on the theory that the blanket stitch would help protect the raw edge. I took special care to secure the top and bottom of the seam. All this I did with doubled polyester sewing thread in a matching color so it would be strong and invisible. Only then did I cut just above my blanket stitching. Here’s how it looks from the outside:

SweaterHospital (2 of 5)

As you can see, the seam is all but invisible in the stockinet portion of the body. It wasn’t possible to be quite so discrete through the slipped-stitch rib, but it’s not half bad. And now I’ve got a cardigan that looks intentionally cropped, which is what I should have created in the first place. I should have just cast on the number of stitches I needed at the smallest portion of my waist, allowing for the ribbing to stretch a bit over the swell of my high hip. It’s the perfect shape to wear with a high waisted skirt, which seem to be proliferating in my closet anyway.

DecoDesaturated (1 of 2)

(We’re going to pretend this shot is some kind of intentional vintage film effect, although the truth is that Mr. G didn’t check the settings and I honestly think the camera just lost all composure in the face of retina-searing coral red against luscious spring greenery. Anyway, be thankful I desaturated this photo in post-production.)

Deco was not the only patient in Sweater Hospital of late. After my son stretched out the neck in his quest for, um, unrestricted access to his favorite terrain, Moroccan Nights was badly in need of a quick repair job. This one was much easier: a simple crochet chain worked into every stitch just beneath the cast-on edge, tidy and barely noticeable once I got the tension just right. Now she doesn’t plunge off both my shoulders and I can wear her again.

SweaterHospital (3 of 5)

And, with that, the patients are ready to go back to the closet and out into the world! Surgery a complete success. It’s very satisfying to bring handknits back to useful life. It’s such a shame when you’ve spent all those happy, anticipatory hours in the fabrication only to end with a garment that makes you glum.

SweaterHospital (4 of 5)

Still to do: stabilize the shoulders and neckline on Blue Thistle and re-knit the back neck of Brigitte to see if I can solve her many problems. Work for another day. And of course there’s the basket of children’s clothes in need of mending…

Encore

SBSforDad (1 of 2)

More Side-by-side mitts! These were finished ages ago… looking back, I see they were already done when I posted about the first pair I made. It just took me two months to put them on my husband so I could feed the blog a few photos. I’m glad to say I didn’t delay as long after that in putting them in the mail. Merry Christmas, Dad! My husband still covets these, though he did recently find one of the missing gloves I made him in 2009. (I was reminded how much I liked those gloves. They really came out well. I hate knitting fingers, even if they’re only an inch long. But I do love my man. And that heathered Rauma Finullgarn was delish.) So now he’s on probation to see how long he can go without losing a glove again. I haven’t decided how many months or years he has to hold on to the pair he’s got to convince me it’s worth my replacing them when one does eventually escape into the wild. But now that I know I can bust out a pair of Side-by-sides in a pair of evenings, I’m more likely to be lenient.

SBSforDad (2 of 2)