Teaser

I do intend to post some pics of me in the excellently flattering (dare I say it myself) Bettie's Pullover. Alas, it may be a while, so I didn't want to leave you hanging:

At this point, it would be more prudent (and time saving) to buy a new dress form than to keep reminding you that the dress form shape is not mine. Alas, who has 2 thousand bucks to throw at a custom form?

While I'm disinclined to mention this, because the overall impact of the garment is rather impressive, I really fucked up on about 8 of the Japanese short row wrap pick ups. Given that there were approximately 100 and I had no idea of what I was doing, until the end really, I think I did alright. I know that, were I to make this garment again, it would go quite a bit faster and definitely it would be easier - not to mention that it would have a fighting chance at being visible-error-free. Nonetheless, that isn't going to happen. Once is enough.

Ordinarily I would not accept any errors, but I really didn't have a choice. What I've come to realize is that, on a very steep learning curve, you can only process so much, rip back so much, accomplish so much before you become utterly overwhelmed and throw the thing in the "finish someday, maybe" pile. My primary goal is to learn, so sometimes I sacrifice perfectionism for a completed object. I learned far more in finishing this sweater than I ever would have if I'd tried to perfect it too. As it is, the knitting took well over 100 hours, probably close to 200. To perfect (and I really didn't get it till I'd done it, keep in mind), I'd have to rip it back now and start half way back. I'd rather apply my hard-won expertise to a new item.

I'm going to figure out how to minimize the look of the errors, by adjusting them on the wrong side. Having said this, when I've worn it, twice this week already, people have been nothing but complimentary - and not in a "good job for a home crafter" way. That's the power of good fit, peeps.

A word on the yarn: The colour is awesome and the wool incredibly soft and adequately halo free. This is Debbie Bliss DK, which I've used before to good effect. I should say, now that I've lived the Debbie Bliss sweat(er) shop, I only intend to knit with the Rialto Chunky, DK and Baby Cashmerino in the future. And I'm likely to give the brand a rest for a good while, because it's nice yarn but - in the crazy, treated, superwash category - I'm loving Zara more.

Thoughts?

Brief (But Not Final) Note on Bettie's Pullover

I didn't imagine that the finished product would be anything other than a disappointment. Minor or major, who knew, but the thing just went on painfully for so long.

There was that 90-minute short row above the twisted rib hem. And just for kicks, it was repeated at the base of the yoke above the feather and fan bodice. Attaching the sleeves to the yoke was an endurance test. I wrote notes on my notes. There was the obligatory short row section at the sleeve cap which, at that point, was just a friendly little technique. But the worst of it was having no freakin' idea of why I was doing anything. What did it all mean? Did I interpret the instructions correctly? (Answer, amazingly, I was pretty much dead on. Of course, I had hours of wakefulness to contemplate every possible iteration...) Note: To its credit, the pattern is without error. If you figure it out, what with your PhD in Knitting Pattern Interpretation, you can trust it will work. And it will impress the crap out of you.

I finished sewing in the neck tie yesterday. Strangely, that was a huge pain in the ass. Must have fussed with it for 2 hours. Though, in truth, I did a very good job. Then I heavily steam blocked the funny, bright orange sweater and let it set on a towel.

No, till then, I hadn't so much as put it on over my head to see if the opening was large enough. (I knew it was.) I did not have the fortitude to try it before every fucking thing was done. Cuz if it didn't work, I knew it would all be over. I'd burn that thing.

Imagine my shock and joy, upon finally sucking up and trying it (there was truly NOTHING left to stop me), to find that the fit was entirely perfect. I mean, I can find you a dozen little knitting errors on this garment and sheepishly point them out to you. But the fit is without flaw.

All of my proportion alterations - shortening the yoke by an inch because I'm short above the bust, lengthening at the bust to compensate for said bust's prodigious profile, adding rows below the waist to get to a final high-hip length, for me, of 22.5", using the smallest needle size at the waist for 2x the number of rows than were called for because my waist goes in and stays in right up to the bust height, shortening the sleeves to save on yarn - and cuz bracelet sleeves are attractive on my frame, continuing to use smaller needles than were called for when constructing the shoulders and neck, because that's where I am at my narrowest - all of them were miraculously apt.

I'll remind you that I made the smallest size - a 32 - giving me 5 inches of negative ease at the bust and this thing is in NO way too small. In the bodice, it could be smaller (what with the flexible properties of feather and fan stitch). This is 3 for 3.

I used 950 yards of fabric. Pattern called for more but that's all I had and, miraculously, that's just how much I needed. For me, I've come to realize, 950 yards is as much yarn as I can wear without looking swamped by the resulting garment. 800-850 yards is the sweet spot.

I have a lot of feelings brewing about hand-knitted sizes and sweaters. But for me, at this point, I'm fairly committed to making a 30 - 32 bust (in the absence of mitigating information) from here on in. I can always add a few stitches at the underarm or bust short rows (not that these have ever yet been truly necessary in the sweaters I've made for myself).

I promise, photos are forthcoming, but I've got a busy week and I've been feeling a bit throat crappy for the last couple of days, so I've got to focus on other priorities.

In the meanwhile, here are today's questions:

• Tell me about a time when you made a sweater (or anything, for that matter) and you didn't have much hope but it all worked out fantastically in the end.

• And, for those of you who knit sweaters, do you have a yardage sweet spot? Is there a certain amount of yarn that works perfectly on your frame to accentuate your shape, but not to overwhelm (or under-cover) you? Obvs, the finer the knit, the more yardage you can likely get away with, but consider this question in light of the weight of yarn that you generally use.

Irony

I haven't had time to write, believe it or not, because I've been slogging away at the final 20% of the Bettie's Pullover. It's times like these when I realize top-down raglan sweaters were invented for a reason. I don't know if the pullover is complicated for its own sake or if there's actual method to the madness (well, there's method, but you know what I mean). But I have this nagging concern, founded or no, that it's not going to fit (really, there's no telling till the freakin' shoulders exist at the very, very, very end.) And it's a total pain in the ass. I don't care how cool it looks.

I have so much to tell you about so many things but I MUST finish the sweater. I want it to be done with. Oooh, that's a real selling point.

What I cannot wait to write about, for one more moment, is the utter, persistent stupidity of the Lingerie Shop Along (yeah, that's 3 separate links) order from Figleaves. Let me lead with the following provisos:

• The problem has had less to do with Figleaves, which has been a conscientious and professional vendor, than some weird, temporary, universal insanity.

• Having said this, just about everything has gone wrong from a) ordering the wrong sizes b) getting sick and being prevented from returning the items myself c) the kid sending the parcel back by dolphin express and so on.

• If this were my first online shopping experience I might never attempt the process again.

Well, the latest is that the parcel did return to Figleaves, after 6 weeks, and they honoured my refund (as requested) for the item I didn't intend to keep. They also resent all of the bras - the Gem first of all (because I reordered it and paid again in the event that the original parcel never returned - I was determined to own it) - and then (rather counter-intuitively) the Fantasie basic and the Charlotte lounge bra - each in separate packages. One's gotta hope there's a good reason for that.

OK, the Gem arrived yesterday and here's the low-down: 2 sizes smaller than the original, it does fit, but I wish the side-wires went higher. They're quite low and there's a bit of side-boob pillowing on the left side. It's by no means a deal breaker, but really, once you've owned double digit's worth of bras that fit perfectly, why would you wear anything that deviates even slightly? Furthermore, it's a bit dull. And stiff. And, dare I say it, uncomfortable?! That's not a hallmark of the Freya product.

I urge you to wait until Freya resolves the rather large issues of size and fabric choice. FYI, if Freya never fits you, maybe you should try this bra. It sure as hell doesn't fit like its regular sloper.

The fabric is actually irritating, especially as the underlining (a lighter shade of blue than the fashion fabric, the effect of which I do not like) has no drape. I'm sure, were it April, I would love the robin's egg blue. But in deep November it just seems wan. And I don't think you should have to size down in back by 1 and in cup by 2 in order to get a product that fits. They've got to work on this bra if they intend to make it a brand staple.

The strongest feature of the set is the modified thong (half way between thong and something else). The fit is very flattering and it is comfy.

I'm not returning it. I don't have the will. And I will wear it, no doubt. But it's really not the bra I dreamed about for 6 months before it came out - and then for almost 2 months after I ordered it.

Today, the stupidity intensified as my Fantasie basic arrived in the same freakin' size I first ordered and then returned for a smaller size. Mmmhmmm. On the website, they even show the original order, with size, next to the return order, with the same size. When's the last time you returned a bra cuz it didn't fit (as you indicated on the return form, next to the new size you wanted), and then reordered it in the same size? I so wish someone had been paying attention.

So now, I have to return the same bra (on my own dime, at least until they reimburse me as I'm confident they will) for the second time and wait another 2-4 weeks for the correct size. Did I mention that this is the most boring bra on the planet. Sure, it works under everything, gives great shape and I've owned it time and again. But really, this is effort I am not psyched to go through YET AGAIN for a workhorse. Mind you, if they ever stopped making this bra I'd lose it, but that's not the point.

Lord knows what I'm in for when the Charlotte comes. Let's say I don't have any expectations.

There has been way too much care and feeding in this experience. I have upwards of 30 emails with Figleaves, I've online chatted, I talked on the phone... Lord, I wonder if I expended this much effort organizing daycare for my once-tiny child. (Note: Of course I did, but allow me the hyperbole.)

Between the sickness-association and all the hassle, I can't say I'm going to be ordering any bras online in the near future. Fortunately a) y'all had better experiences than me when you ordered, can you imagine how my rep would have been in the gutter?? and b) I have enough lingerie to last me till the end of days.

Point is, I commiserate. Now back to knitting

My Cheating Ways

You know Taran's blog tag: Sewing is what I do when I'm cheating on all my other hobbies. When first I read that I snort-choked my coffee. Genius, IMO. And these days, for me, somewhat apropos. 

Generally, I'm firmly in the one-project-at a-time-kind camp. Partly that's because I'm intense about whatever I'm doing and I generally can't split my effort. Partly it's because I hate clutter and having unfinished crap all over the place. To me, that's chaos. Furthermore, it stands to reason that I can finish whatever I'm working on that much sooner if I'm not doing 8 other things at the same time. Which means I can brag/complain/talk about it that much more efficiently.

I do love serial crafters, though. They all seem creatively hyped on uppers in the most charming way. They're gonna knit that sweater while sewing those slip covers and make reindeer cookies for the bake sale. Oh, and a costume for the school play. While refurbishing a vintage machine. I need a drink just reading about it. I mean, seriously, I'm not Martha Stewart. I do not have a team of sous-crafters to realize my vision. (Would that I could be an artistic entrepreneur and make as much money as I do in my current career...)

Which is why I'm so surprised to be cheating on my knitting with other knitting. You know you've got to reconsider things when you need 3 pairs of needles in the same size at the same time. Don't fear: this isn't a trend. It all happened so organically - we were just out for coffee and then we got to talking and... What I mean is, I'm working two projects at the same time (and swatching a third, truth be told) not because I can't resist but because I'm avoiding things.

That is SO not my way. I would rather smack my head against a wall than have something hanging over me. And, if it's a problem that has to be solved, why wait? It's not going to fix itself. What's weirder still is that I've actually solved the problem (I think). I have 5 pages of typed notes to detail EVERY FUCKING STEP of the yoke of the Bettie (the top 6 inches of this knit-in-the-round project that affixes the sleeves to the body, shapes the shoulders and creates the neckline/neck tie. But, secretly, I'm worried I won't have enough yarn. I've got 2 skeins left (I started with 8) and that got me 2 shortened-to-3/4-length sleeves (up to the armscye) and the bulk of the body. Will 240 yards get me the rest of the way there?

Not only that, but the body looks exceptionally straight, never mind the fact that I used a slimmer needle on the waist section. It also seems like it might be too big, but in truth, it's kind of impossible to tell. The measurements I was going for are the measurements I've achieved according to the tape measure. I suspect it's much easier to tell if a sweater is going to fit once you've got shoulders because well-fitting shoulders really are the arbiter of a sweater in the right size.

Anyway, I know I've got notes and I've considered the final stage of this sweater up the freakin' yin yang but just those 2 sections of short rows (those that separate the rib from the feather and fan stitch at the base of the sweater and those that separate the yoke from the feather and fan stitch at the (current) top each took upwards of 3 hours and, due to some key disconnect I'm still wrangling re: picking up the wraps using the Japanese technique (I think on the purl side, but truthfully, who knows?), I am unhappy and nervous about the next uncharted frontier. 

As stupid luck generally has it, the next section of the sweater will probably be the easiest. Still, I need a rest till the weekend when my brain will have more space to deal with any unexpected potential challenges.

Alas, I must craft. The thing that's keeping me sane is the meditative action of needles clicking. Sure, I'd love to be sewing but that's not something I generally do mid-week. Also, it's something that takes a lot of energy. There's cutting and pressing and tracing - lots of moving around in addition to thinking. It's not a slow-art. It's very dynamic. Knitting, well it is also dynamic but, relatively-speaking, at the pace of salted caramel dripping from a spoon. Or international package-delivery via Canada Post. You can stop and put it down (and nothing will lose its critical mass). You can watch a movie. You can sit on your ass. In fact, you have to sit on your ass. 

I mustn't overdo it right now. Every time I do, I suffer. And I can knit to my heart's content and not do myself any damage.

Add scenario A (the fact that I'm not ready to finish the Bettie) to scenario B (the fact that I have to keep my hands occupied) and it leads to scenario C - the "other project": le Rondeur.

Intriguingly, this is perhaps the first project ever wherein I've had to size up in the needles. I think that's because I'm working with a DK yarn that's on the slim side. It could also be that this yarn just knits very compactly. I will say that, one needle up, I got exact gauge both vertically and horizontally. I don't think that's ever happened before either. I usually have to sacrifice on the vertical side of the equation (which generally doesn't cause any problems and actually saves me yarn).

The Rondeur is an interesting garment. How many cherry-pink wool t-shirts do you own? Admittedly, the yarn I'm using is washable and is also very sleek but still it's a strange idea. And while I undertook this to escape the mental focus required to finish the Bettie, the initial rounds of the Rondeur (the yoke) are those with the lace work and cables and the pattern is actually very fussy to establish. I'm probably going to have to do a bit of wrong-side-fixing in a couple of spots that seem to be sporting yarn over holes where perhaps they should not be. I'm fairly confident these will not be noticeable in the end (though I'm always going to know) but that's the kind of thing that really irritates me, especially since I am so careful as I go. Sure, it's only 26 rows of lace/cables at the shoulders, but they are painstaking. (I worked for 2.5 hrs last night and only got through 18 of them.) The Bettie would unlikely be harder for longer, but somehow it matters not. I want a new texture and colour. And fortunately that's what I've got.

So, today's questions are: Do you have hobby ADD? Or are you a one-garment (at a time) crafter? Whichever camp you fall into, why is it your preferred way? Do you flip-flop between those two styles (ooh, that would be schizo)? Let's talk.

Oh, and if you have already made Bettie's Pullover and you're reading this - can you confirm that the top 6 inches (where it all comes together) isn't too traumatizing? And that it doesn't take much yarn? Thanks!

Fan-Fare

Here's the current state of my Bettie's Pullover:

Whatcha think so far?

Gauge the Situation: Interdependencies

One of the more complicated aspects of Bettie's Pullover pattern is establishing gauge. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that gauge - horizontal or vertical - is generally super clear, but vertical gauge (in multiple combos of stockinette, rib and feather and fan) is very hard to suss. Add to the equation that one's needle size is changing every couple of vertical inches and it's almost impossible to pre-determine how the length (never mind width) will turn out.

I'm used to getting quite fussed about horizontal gauge, what with the narrow shoulders and proportionately large boobs, but vertical gauge (and I do consider it before I begin any project) generally turns out to be a non-starter. Depending on the pattern, I can simply work more or fewer rows to hit my target dimensions.

Not so much with this sweater.

The reason why it's SO important, with this particular pattern, to make notes (which prove to you beyond a shadow of a doubt that you'll hit the right stitch numbers at key points and that you know what's coming next and how to make it happen) is because, based on the way this sweater is worked, your vertical gauge is as key as the horizontal. And, since you're going from the bottom up, you can't just add length at the end of it and hope no one notices that proportion is off.

Here's the basic sequence of construction as indicated in the pattern. (It's important to have some sense of this in order to understand the rest of this post):

Part 1:

Bottom of sweater (begins in the round) - ribbing with middle-size needle)

Part 1B:

Body: 

• Just above the hem ribbing, short row shaping to establish the stockinette backdrop for the undulating feather and fan pattern (this is kind of mind-blowing) (largest needle size)
• Feather and Fan (largest needle size)
• Feather and Fan (middle-needle size)
• Feather and Fan (smallest needle size)
• Feather and fan (middle needle size)
• Feather and fan (largest needle size)
• Short row shaping to re-establish the stockinette backdrop for the upper part of the sweater (Then you put the body aside.)

Part 2:

Create the sleeves, one at a time, in the round. (middle-needle size)

Part 3:

Then you use a crazy mechanism of knitting rows with all kinds of decreases to affix the sleeves to the body. You shape the sleeves and lower armscye at the same time. (middle needle size)

Part 3B:

Eventually, once you've knitted to about half way up the armscye length, you leave knitting in the round and start working back and forth because the neckline begins. You continue to work sleeve and armscye shaping throughout the rows as you also begin to shape the neck. Now the pattern begins referring to WS and RS instructions. (middle needle size)

Part 4:

After that, you do some more short rows to shape the sleeve cap and shoulders. You work each side separately. (middle needle size)

Part 5:

• Finally, you kitchener stitch the underarms (to close them up)
• Three-needle bind off the shoulders (to close them up); and 
• Knit the neckband. (middle needle size)

Now, one of the ways in which this pattern rocks is that the schematic is VERY detailed. It shows you how every horizontal and vertical segment work together. That's key for me because my proportions are fairly, if subtly, different than those the sweater calls for. 

In brief:

1. My armscye needs to be 6.25", 1 inch shorter than the pattern instructs.
2. My upper chest is also shorter than the pattern assumes - fortunately by about the same amount as the armscye / what the pattern suggests, though not quite as much.
3. I'm planning on adding a bit more length to the middle of the sweater through to the bust portion to get over my full bust. 
4. I want a shorter sleeve than the pattern calls for because a just-below the elbow is elegant and also I need to conserve yarn (yeah, yeah, the story of my life). 

Sure, I'm only talking about adding a vertical inch here and subtracting it there, but we know how establishing proportional length makes the difference between a sweater that looks custom made (cuz it is) and one that would fit someone else better.

Here's the thing with this particular pattern: When you get to the section of the sleeve shaping (Part 3) - and going on up from there - the actions you work in one section (i.e. the knitting on of the sleeves with the complex associated decreases), to establish those proportions, are inextricable from the actions relating to other sections (armscye shaping and neck shaping happen at the same time in different spots on the same rows). Moreover, all of these relate intimately, from a vertical shaping perspective, to the sleeve cap shaping that happens thereafter.

The way the pattern is worked, arm depth is carefully aligned with neck shaping. You can't really detangle them because you're working the vertical length of one in conjunction (though slightly out of phase) with the other. How - in addition to this - I am expected to manage numerous HORIZONTAL considerations (side front, side back, sleeve front, sleeve back and neck decrease shaping on a row by row basis while ensuring that they occur in the right sequence and at the right time to accord with vertical gauge) is practically beyond me, though I'm sticking with it.

I've adjusted my schematic, I've rewritten the me-adjusted version of the pattern numerous times - not changing the overall actions, just changing up where they occur on my version of the sweater. Every time, I've reconsidered the impact of these adjustments, imagined a fatal flaw (potentially incorrectly), and started again. It's like there's a nutty loop going on in the back of brain right now...

At my current stage of construction (about 7 inches of the bottom of the sweater, including a couple of different gauge's worth of feather and fan pattern) I think my overall vertical gauge is going to work out to be about 7 rows to an inch (nowhere near what the pattern gauge suggests in any of the needle sizes?!). I estimate that, as I continue to work - even as I have decided to use the different needle sizes (for horizontal shaping purposes) at different sections in the garment to try and mitigate the potential challenge of a sweater that may still be too wide, I may discover that my vertical gauge is being substantively impacted by all of my horizontal experimentation. 

Neither gauge exists in a vacuum, of course, though sometimes you can pretend as much if the pattern isn't too complex. The only thing worse than having your proportional shaping carefully determined by vertical gauge (in addition to the regular impact of horizontal gauge) is to experience said scenario while you also cannot predict what your vertical gauge (some rows up) is going to be. It's what we call tap dancing.

All this talk aside, I don't know how else to approach this project. I've got to resolve the horizontal shaping challenges as they emerge or overall vertical proportion won't matter. It'll look all wrong for a totally different reason.

At any rate, that's the Bettie story du jour.

Now questions for you: If you've made this sweater, I'd love to hear about your experience. If you've made other bottom up sweaters that conform to this construction, have you been equally challenged? I'd love to know your thoughts. 

I realize I'm making it sound very complicated. Mind you, that's because, in my opinion, it IS very complicated. However, it's also some very enjoyable planning and super-fun knitting. Perhaps I'm past the point of being able to assure you that it's worth your effort to give this pattern a go (well, maybe we should see how mine turns out!), especially when I whine at such length.

Many of you seem quite intrigued by the specifics of this pattern so I've really gone into the weeds in the hopes that this post will be of benefit to that subset of readers.

I'll leave it on this note: The actual knitting (Japanese short rows aside) is quite easy. Rib and stockinette are simple, as is feather and fan stitch (F&F). F&F is just a 4 round pattern, 2 rows of which are K, 1 row of which is P and the fourth row is the one with the lace-work. As far as lace-work goes, this is repetitive but not boring. You need to be alert, but not in any way anxious. The pattern reveals itself quickly and is fancy.

Gauge The Situation: Let's Talk about the Bettie...

When I was trying to decide which DK-weight sweater to make, I secretly bought all the patterns I was considering. (Note: This recent bout of illness has had crazy ramifications for my credit card. Talk about trying to feel alive...) I was curious to know the details behind the construction in order to help me make up my mind.

Without a doubt, Bettie's Pullover yielded the strangest, most complex pattern I have ever come across. I was transfixed by its complexity. In fact, a week after first review, I still haven't figured out what to do after I get to the yoke. I've spent hours considering it.

In what way is it complicated? Rather, we should ask, in what way isn't it? I have read that the pattern is flawless, even if incredibly challenging to suss out. It's a bottom up pattern - the second of this type I've ever constructed. Strangely, the last sweater I knit was also bottom up. This one is different in that it is knit in the round, unlike the Siivet.

Specifically, here are the elements I've encountered so far, which bring this sweater into the "advanced" (IMO) category:

• Instead of changing stitch numbers to shape the waist and other areas, because the feather and fan pattern is stitch-number dependent, you use 1 of 3 needle sizes (depending on the part of the sweater you're working) at any given time. That's not hard, of course, but it takes vigilance.

• There are short rows in the strangest spots, doing the strangest things, i.e. right above the hem ribbing, to scallop the first row of feather and fan pattern. Effectively, you work this weird short row riff 10 times (5 times on the sweater front, 5 times on the sweater back) to make little uluating divets that come out of the rib. It takes FOREVER.

• Because of the gauge and pattern, you really need to Japanese short row rather than regular wrap and turn. That's a more finicky version - though not hard. This free Craftsy course teaches it very well, btw... Despite spending 3 hours working, effectively, 2 rows (one of which was a very complicated short row), my end result is frankly mediocre. I really have to hope that either blocking will save the day or that no one will notice the crappy short row part I was learning on cuz they'll be so bamboozled by the crazy pattern. In orange. Let's just say, if I like the end result, I'll probably make the sweater again. If only to improve my technique.

• The font on the pattern is like 8 point?! And it's still 5 pages long.

• Again, I still haven't figured out how to attach the sleeves to the yoke - it's apparently genius and bizarre all at the same time - but I'm going to call it really complicated since my brain has not yet cracked the code after hours of consideration. Note: I'm not worried. I intend to figure it out.

I chose this pattern a) because I think it's very elegant, b) because it looks "advanced" (what, I want something showy!) and c) because it's going to give me a run for my money.

That Siivet pattern was so boring to knit it practically put me into a coma. And given that I was practically in a coma to begin with, the experience was not optimal - especially as I don't love the end result. (Note: Not dissing the sweater. It's an excellent beginner pattern that fairly easily yields a successful end result!)

Now that I'm feeling somewhat better - yeah, still exhausted, still sleep-deprived, still ulcerated, still mucous-y crappy but EMERGING from illness - I want to celebrate with concepts that hurt my brain a little bit.

I am so happy to be able to think. I want to indulge on the activity.