Musings on Productivity

I'm not a particularly speedy sewist. I know this because all of the skirts that seem to take others 4 hours take me 8 to 10. I mean, don't feel bad for me. I'm not unproductive and I make sure my finishing is nicely done to the best of my ability (which generally takes extra time). I'm just not lightning fast.

No doubt, the last 6 months of 2012 were not about the sewing output. I made half of a fitted shell (part of a fitting project I undertook with S), 2 peplum shirts and 2 dresses.

Those of you who sew know that it takes a certain amount of space and physical stamina. You have to trace and or cut out your pattern pieces (and they're often unwieldy). Then you have to organize your large swath of fabric which needs to be ironed and carefully positioned. Then you have to cut your fabric. If you're me, that means you skitter around the floor, hoping not to hit walls in you 15-foot wide century home. Then you have to mark all of the pieces (hopefully they fit on the ironing board for this purpose). And only then can you start sewing - which may be muscle-clenching depending on the qualities of your fabric and pattern.

I know I've said it a zillion times, at this point, but between the 6-month reno (somewhat disruptive of my workspace) and the hideous illness (3 months of bad, 1 month of beyond horrible), sewing just wasn't in the cards.

On the other hand, between mid-September and mid-December, I knitted a reasonably involved scarf, a shawl-like cowl and six sweaters. They were not small sweaters (well, 4 of them weren't). One of them was very complicated. Keep in mind, I alter everything I knit to suit my own dimensions - and that takes additional time. Now, I realize that I did spend a month at home in convalescence, but I assure you that I barely knit during the majority of that time. Seriously, it took me all day just to function.

Never mind the technical terms, with a full-time job, a kid, a blog and a house, (in my opinion) that's productive! :-)

So what's the deal?  Am I a sort-of slow-moving sewist and a super-fast knitter?

Um, not particularly, as far as I can tell.

I've seen "real" knitters go at the yarn and it's shockingly impressive. I mean, one wonders what else they can accomplish with that kind of dexterity. :-) On tiny needles with lace-weight yarn (something I'm working with now, fyi, and more to come on that), they zip along - conversing all the while. It's sick.

Don't misunderstand. When I'm not chatting - aka what I do when I knit with others and which really slows me down - and once I get into a groove (10 rows into a session), I go at a fair clip. Given that I've been knitting for less than 2 years (though my father did teach me the skill when I was 12), I'm probably somewhat naturally adept. (I've mentioned before, I'm dextrous.) And Lord knows, if one's knitting style mimics one's nature, I'll be very fast one day.

But I don't think this is how I've managed to knit lots of things. I think I've managed to knit lots of things because I'm focused.

In brief, this is how I tackle knitting projects (see this post for more details about pre-knit planning):

• I decide on the project I want to make. This takes some time but it's fun! I have to carefully consider the likelihood that the garment will suit me and that, with my current skill-level, I'll be able to make required alterations so that it will fit me as well as possible.

• I buy the yarn and all the materials I'll require. 

• I do a gauge swatch, which I block, and I carefully consider whether I'm going to aim to get gauge or to subvert it for my own sizing needs. Either way, I have to be as certain as I can be that I'm targeting a size my gauge will allow me to achieve. (Note: It's important to use the swatch to determine the amount of negative ease your fabric will comfortably allow. Affix markers 1 inch apart on the same row of the gauge swatch and then pull the fabric along that inch. How far will it stretch before you start to see through the knit stitches? Other note: This is simply my method - I haven't seen it promoted anywhere else and it's not a perfect science. Of course, 1 inch will stretch differently than an entire garment just by virtue of its proportions. But it does provide a very good starting off point that your ever-increasing knowledge of textiles will support and build-on.)

• I carefully read the pattern specifics to determine where I'll need to make sizing alterations for my body. Then I figure out how best to do that in the context of the instructions. (Knitters have 40 different ways to do everything.)

• On my detailed pattern-read: If I hit conceptual snags - either about how the pattern works or about the techniques required - I email a knitting friend or the pattern's designer, visit my LYS or go to a book/website/blog. It's rare that I start something without having a pretty good idea of what's coming at every stage of the project. I may not have "done it" before, but I always mentally work it out to the best of my ability. Note: That's not always enough, alas. See cables on the Chuck sweater. :-)

• I rewrite the pattern, with my notes and edits, in my craft book and I use this to mark off rows so that, if I make the garment again - or if I need to repeat on one side to make the other - it's as simple as marking off the same-rows in the same way with a different colour pen.

• I wind as many balls as I suspect I'll require (or one fewer) so that I'm not delayed, while knitting, by this administrative matter.

To the best of my ability, when I start knitting that's all I do. I knit. I don't think about how to accomplish the next section. I don't stop (not often, anyway) to come up with a work-around or to learn a new technique. I don't need to wind balls. I don't wonder about which needle to use or what kind of increases or decreases or cast on to work.

I keep my eye firmly on the finished object. If the garment must be seamed, at the end, I do it immediately. I weave in the yarn-ends as soon as a section is finished (but no sooner cuz, if you have to rip back, that makes things very tricky) so as to see a finished piece of fabric. I block the minute I weave in the final end.

Proviso: Now, one thing I do regularly, while knitting - and which does slow me down, is continue to review the garment against my own body, with fit in mind. If, as I go, I discover that my gauge has changed and I need more or less circumference, I make adjustments on the fly. If I need additional length in one place, or less in another, I make sure to reflect that in my notes and I amend the pattern accordingly. How do I know how to do this? I stop and hold the thing up to myself or I try it on (if I'm able to do this, mid-knitting) or I take its measurements and compare them to my own (taking negative ease into account, see above). It is NOT rocket-science. Don't get fussed about it. You have more than enough knowledge with a tape measure and your own eyes to fit your sweater as you go. Far better to do this than to make no alterations and to end up with a final product that doesn't work on you at all.

So, there you have it. Are you a prolific knitter or someone who really takes his/her time? Do you use any of the strategies above to assist you in accomplishing your knitting "quickly"? Do you think the whole idea of crafting anything with speed diminishes the creative objective? Let's talk about your process!

Get With The Plan

It's nice to feel a surge of creativity. In truth, I've been a little concerned inasmuch as I've been entirely disinterested by anything other than sleep and cupcakes for quite some time. Between work and travel, before this weekend, I'd made precisely 2 things in the last month - both of them for M, both of them the same item (different size and fabric).

One of the things I love most about myself (whatevs for sounding braggy, I'm allowed to love things about myself) is my enthusiasm. I am so thrilled - by so many things - it's like fireworks for my brain. When that quality deserts me, as I suppose is its occasional prerogative, I don't know what to do with myself. Because even as my nature exhausts me, it sustains me. (Strange place to be.)

All this is to say, the weekend was refreshing, even as it was tiring, because it was the culmination of a week-long, careful plan wherein I:

• Developed the concept: I decided that a) I needed to make some things for myself that are b) in no way hard to fit into my wardrobe for daily wear and that c) make use of fabric already in my stash. When I looked at my pattern binder, it occurred to me that T shirts (based on a sloper provided by Built By Wendy in the Sew U: Home Stretch) would be the perfect item. Moreover, they'll go with the jeans I'm about to make in the MPB Jeans Sew Along.

• Researched: I read the book again. On a parallel front, I found out as much about the Crew T sloper (the one I worked with) as I could, which isn't that much, actually. I also researched the few reviews of the book I did find, to learn about any hitches or pluses in advance.

• Had Everything on Hand: There were a couple of trips to the fabric store throughout the week: I needed some stabilizing tape for shoulder seams, some underlining (see below) and some thread to match the fabrics. Of course, that led to the purchase of some more fabric, but it was on sale! :-)
  

• Prepped the pattern: Initially, I traced the small - having read that the pattern fits large. I also (without over-thinking it - after all, I'm trying to be all "casual modern sewist") shortened the length at the waist and gave it a smidge of waist curve. I mean, there's never been a garment that I haven't had to shorten at the waist. I have a short waist. So I just assumed it would be necessary here too. (It was.) The thing about sewing with knits is that you can't really make a muslin. You can only make a practice garment out of the same (negative-ease) stretch fabric. Until it runs out, that is, cuz you've had to redo 3 times and who keeps more than 3 yards of the same stretch fabric around at any given time?? Wait. Don't answer that. Let's just say I couldn't have imagined how much I was going to need to curve in the side seams and fool with the neckline.
  

• Prepped the fabric: Determined whether I'd wash or dry clean. Ha! Natch, I'm washing all but the open weave green and white zebra which I haven't yet tackled. I'm afraid to wash it. I did buy the underlining though. What has the world come to that I'm making T shirts with underlining?? (In truth, I'm envisioning something sleeveless so it's more shell than T.)
  

But enough about me. How do you prepare yourself for a creative excursion (whatever your craft might be)? Are you free-flow? Super-organized? Do tell.

Method Sewing

On the weekend I went to see John Irving at the Harbourfront Reading Series. My friend Nicole, she of the sewing fame, kindly invited me to go and it was an awesome event. Intriguingly, Mr. Irving opted to spend most of his allotted reading time to a discussion - well, monologue really - of his "creative process". This was both fascinating and irrelevant (as far as I was concerned). I mean, seriously, his process isn't mine and, even if it were, I don't have his brain to back it up. Nonetheless, it's intriguing to learn about the strange creative paths of others.

So I bring you: Kristin's Creative Process re: New Pursuits. Trust me, it's really interesting.

1. I identify the interest i.e. sewing. (This stage can be nebulous and inactive for years, btw.)
2. Something coheres to catalyse activity (In this case having a friend who's been sewing for a year was encouraging. But, being treated by Scott to a sewing machine(!!!) galvanized my move from theory to practice.)
3. I read every book I can get my hands on.
4. I read everything on the internet I can get my hands on.
5. I watch every video on the internet I can get my hands on.
6. I talk to friends who know what they're doing.
7. I talk to strangers who might know what they're doing.
8. I buy magazines on the topic.
9. I look into the history of as many facets of my new pursuit as possible i.e. the mechanics of the sewing machine (in this case), the history of textile production etc.
10. I take courses at reputable studios (M and I are signed up for Sewing Basics in mid-November).
11. I get set up in the best way I know how - get all the accessories I'll need, find clean workspace with best light etc. - and work with the best materials I can justify purchasing.
12. I make Scott learn half as much as I'm learning so that when I get stuck he can help me. (He has much more patience than I do.)

And then, truly, I immerse myself so fully in the new activity that I think about it constantly. I dream about it. I can't shut up about it.

That's when the word "enthusiasm" starts to look like "insanity".

But let me say this about that: I'm not half-assed. When I give something a go I take it on to do it with as much skill and experience as I can bring to it. And, if I do it well, I know it's because I've worked my butt off. And tormented a few people.

This post is dedicated to them.