Ruthless Knitting

The Middlebury cardigan is done but for the buttons. It’s a great relief to have it totally off the needles, as it seems like I’ve been knitting it for a long time (though it’s apparently only been since September). I’m immensely pleased with how it turned out. I’ll do a full finished object rundown with pictures as soon as my buttons arrive and I sew them on.

This has been one of those weeks in which I spent several days wanting to cast on something new RIGHT NOW. Indeed, I actually cast on a number of different things, but I ripped all of them back out about twenty minutes later. It’s become clear to me that my frantic-wish-for-new-knitting moods have nothing to do with knitting and everything to do with my mental health (which, have no fear, is excellent — but we all have our bad days). The weather this week was rather relentlessly bleak, and it made me feel dissatisfied and easily distracted. On Wednesday, the rain cleared up, so I rode my bike to the arboretum, ran hard for six miles, and rode home. That made me feel better, and my knitting woes evaporated.

Now that Middlebury is done, I’ve happily resumed knitting my Red Herring socks.

I made the first one in May, intending to give it to my mother for her birthday, but it turned out to be too small for her and perfect for me. Since I had other priorities at the time — namely, starting and finishing the Oriel Lace Socks for her — I never did get around to knitting the second Red Herring, which was a shame, since I did love the first one dearly.

What’s great about returning to the socks at this point is that (a) it’s an all-new pattern, since I’ve pretty much forgotten everything about knitting the first one, (b) it allows me to check off the only substantial project on my list of unfinished objects, and (c) it goes so quickly! At some point during the summer, I got the ribbing cast on for the second sock and knit a few pattern repeats. At a meeting on Tuesday, I knit a few more pattern repeats. That meant that when I turned to the sock last night, I had finished the seventh pattern repeat in no time flat, leaving only four more for today. I did three while having my morning tea, so once I do the last one, I’m on to the foot and the smooth sailing of plain stockinette. Whee!

Throughout the process of working on this sock, I’ve been using my Go Knit Pouch (link goes to Scout’s Swag, where they can be ogled and purchased) to carry the sock around and knit from. Just last night, I started suspending the pouch from the arm of my knitting chair instead of dropping it unceremoniously on the floor at my feet. This feels like a great leap forward in pouch usage. I love this bag — it keeps everything neat and tangle-free while I’m knitting. I think I shall get a bigger one for my sweater projects.

I have to hold off on my promised good news until next week. Meanwhile, have a great weekend!

The good news
I found some buttons that I think will work for my cardigan. I ordered them from Earthenwood Studios; you can look at them here. I chose the pill shape, the berryleaf pattern, and the amethyst color. I think the color is just the right purpley-brown to work with the Middlebury sweater.

The bad news
Since the buttons are made to order, they could take as long as three weeks to arrive. I think this is entirely reasonable, given what’s involved in their creation, but still. Three weeks.

Meanwhile, I set in the first sleeve all over again this morning. It looks better now. And I’m making progress on sleeve number two. I have an hour-long meeting tomorrow, and I bet I’ll finish the cap before it’s over. Then I can finish the seaming and weave in the ends to get the sweater ready for the arrival of the buttons.

Sorry, no pictures today — but I have a suprise I’m saving. I’ll post some pictures and good news later this week!

The good news
Progress on the Middlebury sweater continues apace. I got one sleeve finished and sewn in, the other one about two-thirds knit, and I completed the button bands and collar, too. It’s looking mighty fine, if I do say so myself.

The bad news
I think the sleeve cap might be too puckery at the top, so I might have to set it in again. Or reknit it for the third time. I am not yet willing even to look closely at it, much less consider what has to be done.

More good news
I ordered five different buttons to try out, and they finally arrived yesterday.

More bad news
I don’t like any of them. I ordered some purple ones today, and I’m investigating a vintage button source. Buttons are hard.

The good thing about “two steps forward, one step back” is that you do get there eventually. Don’t you?

Though I like to knit socks now and again, I wouldn’t say that I’m a “sock knitter,” since my level of fanaticism is fairly low, and I’d usually prefer to knit a sweater. Moreover, though I have one of Cat Bordhi’s previous books (Socks Soar on Two Circular Needles), it hasn’t proven to be an important one in my collection, and I haven’t been tempted by any of her other popular titles. So when I say that I bought New Pathways for Sock Knitters: Book One (Friday Harbor, WA: Passing Paws Press, 2007) as soon as I had an opportunity to flip through it at the yarn shop — and despite the fact that it cost $28.95 — I hope you’ll take that as an indication of how truly innovative and interesting this book is.

With this volume, the first of three in a planned series, Bordhi has begun an exploration of sock “architecture” — which is to say that she’s begun detailing ways in which socks can be knit to fit the human foot that are different than what we’ve grown accustomed to. In her introduction, under the heading “Five hundred years, two styles of socks,” Bordhi explains that hand-knit socks “have been dominated by two architectural styles” for a very long time, but that in fact “sockitecture” is infinitely variable.

This first volume introduces eight new architectures, or “pathways,” for knitting socks. These pathways all begin at the cuff or the toe. In Bordhi’s second volume, the pathways will begin elsewhere, i.e. mid-foot or leg. The third volume will explore “ancient pathways” for sock knitting inspired by Bordhi’s research at the Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto.

What really impresses me about this book is not that Bordhi came up with new ways to knit socks but rather that she came up with exceedingly clever ways to teach others how to knit these new architectures while simultaneously encouraging them to make these socks their own. Following the introduction, New Pathways for Sock Knitters contains a set-up chapter that orients the knitter to Bordhi’s book and the symbols she uses and then offers patterns for two differerent baby socks as a way of introducing the basic techniques used in the book. Each sock architecture then gets its own chapter, which explains how the sock is shaped, offers another orienting baby sock pattern or two, and then provides at least one adult sock pattern (often stunning) in the new architecture, as well as a “master pattern” for that architecture that the knitter can adapt to suit.

I love this method of using baby socks as a teaching tool, since they are quick, cute, and satisfying to knit. And I’m thrilled that Borhdi has provided master patterns for each of her architectures, because while I do occasionally like to follow other people’s patterns, I’d usually much prefer to do my own thing.

This book also shines in its design, illustration, and photography, all but the last of which Bordhi was responsible for herself. Self-published books are often not as attractive or easy to use as professionally published ones, nor are they usually edited well, but this volume is an exception. It’s visually appealing, and a great deal of thought has clearly been put into the layout and illustrations. It’s also packed with beautiful and inspiring photographs of socks.

New Pathways for Sock Knitters has been getting a lot of praise lately from knitting bloggers, and in this case I’m happy to jump on the bandwagon. I’d recommend it to anyone who likes to knit socks and is interested in learning new constructions to expand their repertoire. I imagine it will become an essential volume in many knitters’ libraries.

I begin with a confession: I bought KnitKnit: Profiles + Projects from Knitting’s New Wave because I wanted Anna Bell’s Bridie pattern, and buying KnitKnit is the only way to get it. Really, can you blame me?

Thus, when KnitKnit arrived, I had no particular expectations about what else it might have to offer. I was pleasantly suprised to discover in an afternoon’s reading that KnitKnit is a really neat book. As the subtitle promises, it is a collection of profiles of people who work in art and knitting — knitwear designers of a variety of types, artists who use knitted fabric in their work, artists who knit radically or in unusual ways, bloggers and zine authors who write about knitters, and so forth. It’s a bit hard to classify this group, but Gschwandtner — herself an artist/knitter, as well as the compiler of a popular knitting publication of the same name as her book — has done an excellent job of identifying an inspiring cross-section of subjects.

The book is oversized and beautifully laid out, with interesting photographs by Kiriko Shirobayashi. A typical profile takes up about four pages, balancing images with descriptive text. The profiles all include a full-page photograph of the artist taken in his or her work environment, a few pages of text, and a pattern by the profiled artist. This picture shows the first two pages about Catherine Lowe, a designer known for her elegant designs and her lengthy, extremely detailed patterns, which focus on couture detailing.

Many of the patterns included in KnitKnit strike me more as bonus material than as a reason on their own to buy the book. There’s an interesting mixure of avant garde and more wearable garments, of accessories and giant concept pieces, but there are only a handful of patterns (in addition to Bridie) that I would consider knitting. One is this pretty pullover by Joelle Hoverson, who owns Purl in New York City:

I’m also intrigued by the shape and construction of this jacket by Risto Bimbiloski, which is not for me, alas, but might inspire some future design.

Though a number of patterns are too “conceptual” or “outright strange” for me, this, too, is in keeping with the book’s purpose and character, and I like it.

I’d recommend KnitKnit to those interested in knitting’s role in art and fashion, as well as to anyone with a taste for doing interesting or conceptual work with their knitting needles. I’m also planning to recommend it to my friend who teaches textile art to undergraduates, as I think it could be a source of inspiration to budding textile artists.

Since I last posted, I’ve finished the back and left front of the Middlebury cardigan, so the time came to pin it together to see how it fits. These shots are courtesy of my new camera, a birthday gift from my parents. It has utterly transformed for the better my taking-pictures-of-knitwear process. It focuses! It gets the colors right! It lets me take a hundred pictures rapidly so that I can get two good ones without wasting half an hour! Anyone who has ever tried to take pictures of knitwear will understand that these are sufficient reasons to love the camera deeply. Those who do not regularly take pictures of their knitting are excused for rolling their eyes or chuckling quietly at my expense.

Unfortunately, the new camera can’t do anything about the fact that I didn’t manage to take a shot with my face in it that I could post here. The problem was not that I made funny or unflattering faces, it was that my hair is so horribly in need of cutting that I just couldn’t bear to look at it straight on. Luckily, I have a haircut scheduled for later today. Next time I take pictures, I promise that my face will be in them.

With both fronts and the back completed, I’m on to the sleeves now. I’m knitting both at the same time, and I’ve managed to get the cuff ribbing done, but the road ahead of me is long. To keep from posting boring sleeve progress pictures for the next week or two, I plan to entertain you with book reviews and a record of my agonizing over buttons. Picking out buttons for a dark purple, green, and yellow cardigan is tougher than you might think. Luckily, I have David to advise me. He is excellent at discerning which buttons are the right ones.