I think this would be great as a sweater.
I’m thinking of Iceland and good ol’ E.Z.
Yes? Or should the yellow be a little more citron than mustard?
So now I’m grossed out
…and kinda sad too.
Moths. That’s my best guess at least. Ugh.
I started Oblique back in September, hoping to have it done in nine days, just in time to accompany me to San Francisco. The 90 degree autumn we enjoy in Austin makes it easy to get excited about visiting a city with more sweater appropriate weather. In fact the prospect of a crisp and chilly breeze can really do funny things to your head, like make you think you can finish a highly textured sweater in nine days. I didn’t, but managed to have a good time in the city anyway.
When I got back I let Oblique sit, sadly ignored while I was distracted with hats, mitts and other bitsy projects. No more though! I’m determined to finish her before our tiny little winter is over, and have been nothing but faithful this past week, building up a nice pile of sweater pieces.
I was feeling pretty pleased with myself until I decided to lay everything out - sorta have a look at it all together/stare admiringly at what I’ve accomplished so far (you know how you do) and saw that hole, and another smaller hole near it, and the way I had really mucked up the armscyes.
That’s the right front over the left front, and there’s about a 2″ difference in length between the two. I thought my gauge had changed but nope, I counted the rows, I definitely did something strange while decreasing through the lacy bit. So what fun and fabulous things will I be doing this afternoon? I’ll be charting out my decreases, clearing some space in the freezer, and of course, frogging. Wish me luck.
The Big Bad Noro is done.
Like a year ago. In fact here it is making its debut at last year’s Thanksgiving.
Since then it’s seen a lot of wear. My intent was to make a sweater that was warm and blankety enough for lounging and pretty enough to class up the pyjama pants and soup stained t-shirt that is my standard around-the-house ensemble. After all, as lovely as it is to actually be a sloppy, sedentary lump on the couch, it sucks to look like one. I think I succeeded, so well that it’s become my standard grocery store/movie theater/airplane/restaurant (and anyplace else that’s inexplicably OMG freezing!) sweater.
That right there is the look of love. Comfy, cozy, yet totally OK to wear in public, sweater love.
Anyway, around January I took some pictures, threw them up on Rav, and proceeded to ignore my blog, kinda ignore Ravelry, and not knit all that often either. Then my mood changed, I came back, and found that a few people had said some really kind and flattering things about the Big Bad. They were also asking for a pattern, and that is a problem, because try as I might I can’t seem to write one.
Writing a pattern for a sweater is way harder (to me) than designing one. I have no idea about sizing, or other people’s proportions. I don’t know if the way I write out instructions would be clear enough, or maybe patronizingly too clear. Every time I sit down with my notes, my calculator, Ysolda’s sizing charts, graph paper, a lap top opened to this article, every pattern book I own to use for wording reference, and a strong cup of coffee - my brain shuts down. The whole thing just makes me wanna go “AAAAAGGH!” like a Muppet monster.
Eventually I gave up and made this announcement: “It’s a pretty simple design though, and I’m sure many of you are capable of improvising your own sweater that would look pretty much like this one, so please feel free. I’ll be flattered.” Some people took me up on it (yay!) and emailed a few questions. A lot of the questions are understandably repeats, so in order to save me, and maybe you, some time I thought I’d just put up some general notes here. If your specific question doesn’t get answered feel free to email me, leave a comment, or contact me on Rav.
- The general idea was to keep the color repeats a consistent size by making each piece of the sweater about the same width. In my case this meant that each front side is 6″, the collar is 6″, each side of the back is 9″, and the sleeves start off at 9″ around the wrist and end up being 13″ around the top of the arm.
- The main body is worked in reverse stockinette.
- The collar is 1×1 rib, with a slip st selvage on the outer edge, and the lower edges of the body are 3 rows of 1×1 rib as well.
- The collar is worked separately then attachedafter the rest of the sweater is all sewn together.
- The cuffs are also worked separately in 1×1 rib (with slip st selvage,) grafted to form a ring, then attached to the sleeves.
- The seams down the center of the back, attaching the collar to the sweater, and attaching the cuffs to the sleeves are all worked so that they are visible on the public side of the sweater. Although I think if I had it to do over again I’d just work the cuff to sleeve seams normally.
- All other seams are worked traditionally.
If you do make your own Big Bad Noro good luck, and be sure to send me a picture:)
I’ll totally finish this before casting on for a mitten, I swear.
I don’t remember how and when it happened, but at one point boyfriend B asked me to knit him a sweater. Thing is, boyfriend B doesn’t wear sweaters. He feels unduly constrained by any sort of layering action and is so warm blooded he goes out in the snow in his shirtsleeves. If the weather does get cold enough to make him want something more than a poplin button-down it’s usually a hoodie he’ll reach for - not a sweater. So for a while I just didn’t believe him, though I did think it was awfully sweet of him to want to flatter my knitterly ego.
Eventually he was able to convince me that he did actually want a sweater, that the reason he didn’t wear sweaters is because he didn’t have any he liked, and that he’d much rather have something custom than something from Banana. Well cool, especially since I already knew what the perfect B sweater would be. First off it would be tweed, I watched a lot of All Creatures Great and Small in my formative years and I really think men should wear tweed whenever possible. (I’m totally serious about this - I also watched a lot of MASH, just guess how I feel about epaulets and olive twill.)
It would be a cardigan (good for both ease of use and ventilation,) and it would be long enough to look good on his 6′4″ frame without any additional tugging, stretching or pulling. The neck would be tall (just ’cause I think it looks handsome,) but lined with something soft.
And it would definitely be E.Z.’s Hybrid (Rav link) with the shirt yoke across the back. I’ve always wanted to try that crazy construction for myself, just to really see how it all comes together. Besides I don’t think there could possibly be a more flattering shoulder treatment for a men’s sweater (I mean besides epaulets.)
The hems would be ribbed instead of turned though, so I could continue the ribbing up the sides of the sweater, adding the tiniest bit of ‘zazz to all that stockinette.
By the time my yarn emigrated from Bishops Stortford to Texas at the end of October I was full of enthusiasm. This would be my project for NaKniSweMo and B would have his sparkley new sweater just in time for Thanksgiving. I actually came really close. Thanks to bulky yarn and the power of audio books the knitting seemed to go quickly, and I happpily chugged along, excited to see how it would turn out. Unfortunately I decided to do the button bands with a double pick-up. I’ve done this before with not too many problems, and I’m always happy with the result, but for some reason this particular band took hours, was a completely maddening experience, and by the time I was done I felt like all the tendons in my right hand were on fire. I think you see where this is going. I didn’t finish a Swe for NaKniSweMo, there was no tweedy goodness at our Thanksgiving dinner, in fact I have put off knitting the other button band, and so finishing the sweater, for over two months. The sad thing has lain in an ignored and useless lump through three big holidays, our anniversary, and probably the only cold snap we’ll see this year. I was doing pretty well at ignoring my feelings of guilt about that until I saw this.
Jinkies! We’ve made almost the same sweater at the same time, how weird! BT’s sure is pretty though. Notice anything else about it, besides the loveliness I mean? Yeah, his is done. See how nice it looks, all done and everything? Kinda makes me feel like I should finish mine. After all only one ribbed band, some blocking, and a few buttons stand between me and the glowy feeling of satisfaction you get from a job well done, or at least finished.
That’s the other hold up though, buttons. I’m sure that somewhere in Austin there is a cute little fabric shop. I’m sure they carry Denyse Schmidt, Amy Butler, and imported Japanese linen. I bet the place smells good, all the little tchotchkes they sell are charming instead of cheesy, and everyone who works there is knowledgeable, well spoken, and has nice hair. I bet they have some really great buttons. Unfortunately I’m not a sewer so I’m not in the fantastically cool sewing shop loop. Instead I’ve gone around to Hancock, Michael’s, and Jo-Ann looking for something appropriate. No luck. Instead I’ll have to order them, which is not good news for the sweater. Normally I’m an indecisive shopper, throw the internet into the equation and I’m at a standstill. Fortunately there is the magic of Photoshop and (hopefully) opinionated blog readers.
Which one would you go for?
Sleeve angst is over.
Sorta. I mean there’s 2 of them, they match, they’re attached to the sweater, and the seams are half their previous size.
Can you tell? My armpits sure can.
I was all resigned to classic set-in sleeves for this sweater when I found yet another top-down method in Knitting in the Old Way. P.G.R has you pick up 20% of the sleeve sts along the top of the armscye, slip the 1st st and purl back across, picking up 4 more sts along the armscye. You avoid holes (and all the wrapping, y.o.-ing, and safety pins usually involved in avoiding them) by picking up the first st immediately after the sts you’ve just worked. Keep on slipping, knitting, and picking up, back and forth, and ta-dah! Sleeve cap. So simple.
Great. Except here’s where the “sorta” part comes in: the sleeve cap wasn’t deep enough, so, following Nona’s excellent tutorial, I added 6 Japanese short rows. Adding short rows after the cap was pretty much a half-assed maneuver, there’s a certain funkyness about the resulting shape that’s less than ideal, but this was about my ninth sleeve attempt and I was just really, really over it.
Basically it’s a win, but with added unsatisfactory bits. Like the raisins in what you thought was a chocolate chip cookie.
The Big Bad Noro.
It’s coming along.
I love Big Kureyon and in order to fully embrace its Noro-ificness I wanted each piece of this cardigan to be different from the others. To keep the color runs in the back a consistent width with the rest of the sweater I knit it in 2 halves, just like the front. I’m thinking a visible seam will play very nicely with the rustic quality of this yarn. Sorta like this:
I knit the two back halves first, and whether I was sleep deprived or just operating in my usual goof ball mode, I wound each ball of yarn in opposite directions and didn’t notice the color sequence was reversed ’till a quarter of the cardi was knit. I’m not bothered though, this was meant as an easy going knit and it’s gonna stay that way, I’ll just continue alternating directions from piece to piece and hope for the best.
Originally this was gonna be a stockinette sweater, but as I was taking these pictures the purl side started working its magic on me.
It’s nice how soft, hazy, almost felted the knit side is, but I’m really digging the nubby texture of the purl side. Plus, as is always the case with stripes and purl sts, it’s making the color transitions a little more interesting.
The other thing I need to decide is which seaming method would look best for the back. Mattress? Overcast? Should I try to finagle some sort of sideways three needle bind off? Right now overcast is looking very attractive, but I’ve never used it before and I’m not sure how strong it is. Any thoughts?
In the mean time how about a picture of a cat with some knitting? 100% irony free.
#28 just isn’t cutting it.
I really wish Vogue Knitting would follow Interweave’s lead and give their patterns names instead of numbers. I happily sped through the body of this little piece of chunky, summery goodness, but the sleeves are giving me a headache.
Usually when I have any sort of knitting question I turn to my friend the Internet, because I’m #16231 on the list, this means Google. In an effort to find out how other knitters have handled the sleeve situation I searched for every combination of Twinkle, Wenlan, Chia, cardigan, Vogue, spring/summer, 2007, I could think of. No luck, either no one in the webby world is as enamored of this thing as I am, or I ‘m a very bad googler indeed. Calling #28… say Chevron Cardigan (if we’re trying to be like Interweave,) or Penelope (if we’re trying to be like Debbie Bliss) might not have gotten more people to knit it, but it certainly would have made finding out how very, very alone I am quicker and easier.
Anyway, here’s the problem: this is a chunky sweater, made out of chunky yarn, and as such it has chunky seams. I know right? Who knew? It’s got four seams total, one at each shoulder and one at each armscye. Normally having these be big fatty seams would be less than ideal, but I’ve made the whole situation worse by knitting it one size too small (I think - we’ll see what blocking does.) I don’t really blame the too smallness on user error though, I blame it on this:
I know it’s sorta standard in knitting diagrams to give the body width at the hem of the garment, but I don’t think this is helping anybody decide whether the small or the medium will fit better. I went with the small, just ‘cuz that’s what I usually wear.
In good faith I knitted one sleeve as per instructions from the bottom up and sewed it into the armscye. Check it out:
Huge right? That bit on the left, by the way, is the shoulder. Not cool. In an effort to half the size of that ridge, I decided to pick up sts around the armscye and knit the sleeve from the top down, something I’d never done before with a set-in sleeve. First I went with Barbara Walker’s method, which has you pick up sts all the way around then begin short rowing, wrapping as you like. Perhaps I’m doing it wrong, but I ended up with too many sts for the circumfrence of my sleeve. I thought about decreasing them away after the short rows, but decided that would probably result in something very wonky, not so much a cute little puffed sleeve, but rather straight across the shoulder and baggy at the sides.
Hmm, what to do? I decided to seek the assistance of Our Lady of Perpetual Ingenuity. In her Kangaroo-Pouch sweater recipe E.Z. has you pick up 2/3rds of the sts around the armscye, knit straight for about an inch, then basically work a turned heel as the sleeve cap. This causes you to widen the sleeve cap by one st each row, while at the same time decreasing the circumference of the sleeve by one st each row, which (hurrah!) was exactly what I wanted to do. The result was underwhelming though.
It certainly does the job, and now I’ve got a smaller seam, but the pattern created by knitting straight and then short rowing seriously bugs me.
Besides, I think the ribbing looks better knitted from bottom-to-top than from top-to-bottom.
Can you see it too, or am I being sorta fussy and neurotic?
So far I’ve got three options:
- Knit the sleeves as the pattern directs, learn to live with the bulky seam, and hope for the best.
- Knit the sleeves as E.Z. directs, learn to live with the visible short rows, and hope for the best.
- Knit the sleeves as E.Z. directs, leaving out the inch of straight knitting in the hopes that the short rows look better flush against the picked up edge.
Right now I’m giving #28 a time-out for bad behavior and spending some quality time with the totally unfussy Big Bad Noro Shawl-Collared Thing. Yay. If anyone has any bright ideas as far as sleeve wrangling goes - please shoot them my way.
Bonnet is done.
Yay!
Pattern: my own
Yarn: Elann Peruvian Baby Cashmere in cashmere blue, less than one ball.
Needles: 3.25mm/US 3
Mmm, pretty, no? I wish I’d thought of attaching the I-cord to the inside and making it the “public side.” ‘Course then the bonnet wouldn’t have made such a matchy set with the socks, and the seams might have made baby E’s head look too much like a baseball.
I am digging the gathers at the back of the neck though, and of course the picot edging.
My apologies for the denim, I just didn’t have anything even vaguely baby shaped lying around the apartment. Instead of my knee, try to imagine one of the charming creatures from a Debbie Bliss book doing the modeling.
Even with the extra step of writing a pattern, this was a very smooth knit. The only rough patch was the tedious business of the attached I-cord, the row of sts I picked up around the neck were too loose and the cord sorta flopped around instead of sitting snuggly against the bonnet. At first I though I was going to have to frog and pick up the sts again with a much smaller needle, but a bit of strategic tugging with a tapestry needle evened things out just fine.
Overall I’m pretty happy with it, I wanted something simple and unfussy to match the socks and the bonnet pretty much fits the bill. Still, it’s not the most exciting thing either, and I’m not sad to see it off on its merry way to San Francisco.
Wanna see what I am excited about?
I’ve got plans. Big, cozy, shawl-collared plans.
I’m trying not to let the giddiness get in the way of my ability to do math.