Wry Punster

Small Clothes

Like everyone else on the planet, I'm watching (and reading) the Game of Thrones series.  The author refers to undergarments as "small clothes," which I find totally charming.  These little luxuries are just the thing to soothe a troubled soul.

 

A Hunter St. Cowl in Bijou Basin Sport, a 50/50 Yak/Cormo blend, on US 6s.  Heavily modified to reduce the stockinette areas and attendant yarn usage, since I only had 150 yards.  Pleasing.

A Stripe Study shawl in Tanis Fibre Arts Fingering and a fingering weight I got at a stash swap (definitely not an animal fiber, but who's counting?).  Lovely, soft and enormously enormous.

Saroyan, knit in one skein of Cascade 220 on US 10.5, a gift for a friend.  As quick gifts go, this took a day and has a great ba-bam! quality to it.  High return for the effort, and definitely something I'd make again.

Next up?  Three pairs of socks (!) and a pair of felted slippers.  No one gets cold feet on my watch.

Also, thank you one and all for your sweet words about Moo.  She is much missed, but I am comforted that she passed wihtout pain and after many years of good fun and greater love.

 

The Product Rule

All that handwringing and calculus was not for naught!

With all my calculations, I estimated that I'd have 178 yards left, which really did seem high.  Not only did I have enough yarn, I had almost exactly 175 yards left.  Heck yes!  Someone call Mrs. Kittle, because this girl still remembers a little bit of that math she banged into my head.

This is the Fayette St. Cardigan by the lovely and esteemed Glenna C of Crazy Knitting Lady.  Glenna holds a particular spot in my heart: she designs pieces that are equally vintage and modern.  Her recent Urban Collection consists of 8 patterns, each lovelier than the last. 

As suggested by Glenna, I knit this with some ease: about five inches.  For those of you playing along at home, I usually knit with zero ease, but this cardigan- with a softer, more rounded shape- definitely works with more ease. Plus, the additional space makes it great for layering.

I knit it in Miss Bab's Northumbria DK, "Ruby Spinel."  I bought the yarn at Rhinebeck last year, so it seems fitting to wear this sweater to Rhinebeck this coming October.  Hooray!

On a more personal note, my sweet little sausage of a Jack Russell, Moo, passed away this Friday after many years of eating horse manure, running into the broad side of barns, and generally being underfoot constantly.  I miss her so.

(Locke St. Cardigan: boots: Fryes, jeans: Gap Vintage, shirt: Target, buttons: vintage)

(Sweet Moo: Hourglass Sweater, Gap Jeans)

Love's Labors

There's got to a be limit, somewhere.  I have a closet that is- foot for foot- larger than my first apartment.  I love clothes and I love knitting and sweaters make my heart glad.  But truly, there comes a point where I actually feel guilty making these garments for them to languish in storage but for a few days a year.  That's not to say I'm giving up making things for myself: far from it!  Rather, I'm trying to think about the process as much as the product.  What is it that I want to make?  Is it for me?  A friend? A family member?

My cousin is getting married this Summer.  She and I aren't especially close, but she's a cheerful lady with a warm smile.  I adore her parents.  Her fellow is a great guy; they've been together for years and their upcoming wedding seems like a natural step for two people who look together into the future, rather than just look at each other.

This woman is not a knitter, or a crafter, as far as I know.  But for such an important moment as a public, lifetime commitment, it seems only right to celebrate with a little knititng.  An intricately beaded and knit piece of lace as a gift for someone who might not understand the effort may seem strange, but for me, the pleasure is in the making and the giving.  Maybe she'll understand the work, and maybe not.  The important thing is that the gift goes into the world and not into storage.  There's just only so many things I can make for myself.

ps: I didn't run out yarn!  Hooray!

Calculus in Action

In a fit of Knit From Stash pique, I giddily cast on for a design by the lovely and talented Glenna.  I have a deep and abiding affection for Glenna, and not just because I spent a week gadding about Canada with her.  Her design sense is truly beautiful: she has an eye for the architecture of traditional knitting patterns and applies that kind of impecable sensibility to pieces that are as modern as they are timeless.

All that to say, when I saw her Locke St. Cardigan design, I knew it was going to be a Rhinebeck sweater (planning girl likes to plan!).  Musing over this one morning in the shower- always the best place for a good think- I realized I even had essentially the same color yarn as Glenna used in her sample: a richly fuschia Miss Babs from last year's Rhinebeck.  KISMET!

Off I went, merrily knitting the sleeves and most of the back.  Then I had a moment of panic.  Somehow, in my MUST HAVE THIS fugue state, I forgot to check the yardage requirements for the pattern.  Turns out, I have about 300 yards less than the pattern calls for.  Cue the language inappropriate for wee things.

This morning, fueled by the apple on the left, a strong cuppa and my Freshman calculus textbook, I figured out the yarn usage for my special snowflake size and gauge.  Don't quote me on this, but I think I should be okay!  If not, well: there's always booze.

Sock Monsters!

I just don't even know anymore, Punsters.  I am suddenly eyeing my fingering weight yarn with the intention of making socks.  Wha???

Marigold Socks, by Pamela Wynne, knit in Sundara Sock in Orchid.  These were so fun!  I had 89 grams of yarn- a gift from the beloved Ann- and split the ball in two for maximum sock.  There's about 3 yards left, so I deem this exercise a success.  Seven repeats on the foot, short row heels and toes, 10 repeats on the leg, 8 rounds of 1x1 rib.  110% love.

Gray Lady

It's that time of year again- my Grandmother's birthday!  This year, she turned 88; she remains an excellent vintage- saucy, salty and more than a little juicy.  Her gift this year was a Revontuli-huivi, knit in wool bought in Canada.  Pro tip: do not just download the first pattern on the Ravelry page, because unless you speak Finnish (and I do not), you are making things way harder for yourself.  On the upshot, should you ever require a great Finnish dictionary, I can send you some awesome links.

Apparently, I go through color phases.  This became apparent recently when I reorganized the sweater stash and found I had two boxes of green sweaters, followed closely by brown and gray.  Gray mittens, a gray shawl, and now a gray sweater.  This is Streamside, from the Cecily Glowik MacDonald pattern.  I have such a girl crush on her.

This is knit in Willow, a Brooks Farm yarn that I have a love/hate relationship with.  I love the drape of the wool-bamboo blend, but it is so persnickety.  It catches if you look at it askance, and despite my best efforts, pools like a swimmer.  Grump!

I especially like the buttons.  These were in my stash and have tiny world maps on them!  It's the little things.

Beacon Hill Pullover

That's it.  I quit.  There is no more wearable sweater on this planet.

You all can just go ahead and bury me in this.

Beacon Hill Pullover from the Charles Collection, designed by Amy Herzog.  Knit in Tanis Fiber Arts Red Label Cashmere Silk on US 2s.

Hobgoblins

You may want to sit down because I am making SOCKS.

I just don't even know myself anymore (Monkeys, in Plucky Knitter Fingering Merino, Sag Harbor color)

And more? (Marigold Sock, in Sundara Sock, Orchid)

Seriously.  What is up with that?

A sock yarn MITTEN?  (Paris Mittens, Sundara Sock in Cactus Flower and Graphite)

 

Phew.  A sweater.  (Beacon Hill Pullover, Tanis Fiber Arts Purple Label Fingering)

Makewise

So much, Punsters!  So much!

In the knitting department:

A screamingly red hoodie vest for a beloved friend's birthday.  Cascade Pima Silk, held doubled on US 10s.  36 hours from start to finish!

Another beloved friend got married, so I knit her a shawl:

The Raphaelite Shawl in Sundara Fingering Silky Merino. (terrible picture by moi, a non-pro photographer)

And hold on to your hats, folks, but I made SOCKS.

There are actually two pairs: each one has a mate.  The blue sock is made from yarn from the delightful Holly, and the purple sock is made from yarn from the wonderful Ann.  Both pairs are toe up on US 1s.

And in the sewing department?

A pleated, yoked top in some quilting cotton I bought in South Carolina.  I was "shopping" at Neiman Marcus when I saw a Gaultier top (by shopping, I mean: browsing the website at 3 am and snarfing my tea at the pricetags).  I loved the rounded neck and the pleated detail but YO, the pricetag.

So, I made my own.  I took the yoke construction from a dress I made recently and went from there.  This came out pretty much as I imagined; I'm really pleased!

I also made another top, this time from upholstery fabric.  Since I was still grooving on yoke construction, I did another rounded top.  This time, instead of letting the extra fabric create the give to get it over my head like the top above (I finished it with a side zip and a back tie I made from some bias tape), I added buttons to the back. 

My favorite part?  I fussy cut the yoke to have a blue bird on my shoulder!

It's the little things, you guys.

Stocking the Summer Closet

I love sundresses.  It's a tiny bit of an obsession with me: finding the perfect sun dress.  I am relatively prim for the summer, with my big hats and city sensible flats, so I want a sweet dress to compliment the fantasy in which I am thin, wealthy and live in some pre-war apartment with twenty foot ceilings.  And brie.  Work with me here.

 
This delicately chipper fabric was my grandmother's, so it's been hanging out in my stash for a long time.  I am slowly working on this dress.  The front is quite demure, but the back has a low cross with a deep vee, and a zipper for maximum curve hugging.  Va-va-voom!  The back's not where I want it yet, and I need to hem the bottom, but I'm not sure how much shorter I'd like to go.  Perhaps another inch or so?  What do you think?

There's no pattern for this dress, and I started by constructing what I wanted to eventually use as the lining with muslin.  Since the back is a later addition, I'm cutting, sewing, tacking, marking, taking on and pulling off, but on the whole: I'm pretty pleased!

This is the Anna Dress by Amy Butler, in Moda cotton lined with muslin.  This pattern drove me INSANE.  I realize I am super new to this whole sewing business, but seriously: INSANE.  The linings are interfaced.  There are five steps that you can just flat-out skip (like I did) and the world will not end.  Butler devotes the same amount of instruction for the dress as she does to a 3 inch fabric flower to pin on the finished product.  Whiskey tango foxtrot? 

And knitting?  Let's not talk about that.  I have ripped out three sweaters in a row.  Harumph.  I think I'll hang out with the sewing machine a little more!