Will This Ever Be Over (Or Wearable)?

OK, I'm just about done with this baby. What is this, my 12 thousandth post on the topic?

At any rate, Jody's information was invaluable in getting me from crap to really not so bad but still not right. First look at the Convertible sweater photos and then I'll tell you what's going on and why I think this really may not be meant to be.

Observe the drag on the lower right side.

You can see the drag again on the back though, in truth, this photo just doesn't show the back to its advantage. This outcome is a thousand times better than the last (incorrect) seam up produced.

See that gape at the front? It's a problem.

And it's still more evident here.

Egad, part of me thinks it's all stretched to shit and I just need to block it. Part of me recognizes that this is where the combo of having made it a) too short and b) of my own (i.e. not the instruction's) gauge is going to come back and bite me on the ass. Or the small of my back.

What you can't see is that I've actually attached petersham ribbon on the inside waistband to give it more structure (the instructions suggest seam binding). When I tried seam binding it looked like an accordion bellows met a ruffle foot, so I went with a thicker, more substantial binding that would allow me to maximize length by minimizing the sweater turn-under. It still ripples a lot from the easing, but it could be worse.

At this point I don't know what to do next. I can't wear it like this, the gape is hideously unflattering. It makes me look like a cylinder. I could take a couple of angled tucks/darts or something at the front right but my last attempt at something like that yielded a hideous result.

Maybe this is a terrific learning experience but it's time to move on?

At any rate, I'm putting it back out here one more time in the hopes that one of you has a genius idea you'd be willing to share. Any suggestions are very appreciated. xo

Convertible is Relative

Man, when knitting fails, it does so writ large. Undoubtedly, the McCardell Convertible sweater is in the top 5 of the least successful garments I've made. And given how long it took to make, it may just head the list.

Oh, I suppose it looks ok when I tie it in front (not a great tactic vis a vis maintenance of hand-knit fabric):

But the back is an utter disaster, which I cannot bring myself to show you (read on for the deets).

Honestly, I have no idea if I'll actually ever wear this thing but I can't bear to throw it out right now. On the plus side, if I do, by some miracle, manage to incorporate it into my wardrobe, at least I won't feel compelled to treat it preciously.

We'll never know - as I don't intend to waste another minute on the pattern - if that's what sucks or if the alterations are to blame. According to this thoughtful post, my money's on the alterations:

Let's say that your pattern instructions direct you to create a sloped edge by decreasing 1 stitch every row over 10 rows, 10 times: a total of 10 stitches decreased over 10 rows. When knit at 5.5 stitches and 7.5 rows per inch, that's 1.8 inches difference horizontally, and 1.33 inches vertically, or a length of 2.25 inches forming an angle of 36.26 degrees with the horizontal. But if you decided to resize your pattern by changing your gauge to 4.5 stitches and 6 rows per inch, you'd wind up with 2.2 inches horizontally and 1.6 inches vertically, or a length of 2.72 inches forming an angle of 53 degrees.

This difference may have an impact on the way your garment is put together, causing seams to not fit together correctly, or altering the pitch of the sleeves when they're joined to the garment. The difference may not be significant, and thanks to the stretch of knit fabric, you might be able to fudge it; but there are circumstances where changing the stitch gauge and not altering the pattern can potentially result in a misfitting garment.

There are too many fit challenges to dwell on, but the main ones are these:

• The side seams pull forward towards the centre front of the garment when the front is wrapped even the smallest amount. 
• The fit under the arms is too big (Remember, this garment came together like a sewn pattern - 2 wacky looking pieces seamed at the centre back and side seams / sleeves. The sleeves are kimono-style aka part of the bodice / not sewn in.)
• The back of the garment - even when the front is wrapped - is so big, it resembles a swing coat more than anything. Not good when you're making a fitted surplice sweater. I ended up taking 2 tucks in the back on either side of the centre seam (each extending about 6 inches in length) which made things wearable, if no less dire. Of course, it looks totally "handmade" as a result. Kiss of death in my book.

I've never before felt the wrath of the knitting gauge gods, but I'd do well to choose my future patterns more wisely:

• It's going to be a while before I tackle another vintage pattern - at least one that hasn't been modernized by a skilled (read: living) designer.
• I'm never going to make another pattern with no schematic, no pattern drafter (to consult with) and no reviews online. That's just stupid.
• It's one thing to alter, for example, width gauge (up or down an inch or 2 at most), when you're working with a pattern designed on the straight of grain. Attempting it on a garment, seamed on the bias, is insane. To my credit, I didn't realize this was what I was undertaking until a long way into the project. Not being able to envision how the pattern pieces were to go together, cuz there's nothing - not even a full page of instructions - to pave the way, makes it hard to tell what's what. Not that I'm any less to blame.

Even given all of this fit badness, with most of my knitting attempts, I've learned tons from the first garment (the wearable muslin) and have successfully been able to apply that knowledge to the second version. I suppose might be able to do it again with another try at this sweater, but there are too many unknowns which may adversely affect it: the impact of the bias cut, the next batch of yarn I use (I don't much love the finished feel of the Lorna's) and the gauge that new yarn will have / its drape.

You've got to know when your skill set - plotted against your fortitude - is up to a challenge. I don't generally go the easy route, I hope you would agree. But I don't like to set myself up for failure.

PS: For those of you who are curious about the look of the finished pieces, before seaming, here you go:

Totally bizarre, no?

Tip Top

It must be the change in the amount of daylight, or the sun's angle in the sky, but my brain has really kicked into craft gear. I can't stop thinking about upcoming projects. Some might call it rumination. I like to call it creativity.  At any rate, here's where I'm at:

The Peplum Top

Since I didn't hear back from the pattern designer, I opted to cut out the Salme paper pattern in a size 12.  (Update: Elisa, pattern designer, just replied with very helpful feedback. She thought she had replied to my question but her email got shuffled to her drafts. More on this feedback in a later post.) S, my fitting friend, gave me this awesome double pencil gizmo that lets you trace the outside of your pattern while simultaneously drawing a 5/8" seam allowance. Really made that part of the job less onerous than usual. It took about an hour to tape the paper, cut the 12, tape it to tracing paper and add the seam allowances. Very reasonable, IMO.  

What I like about patterns that don't include SAs is that it's easy to see what the finished garment dimensions will be because you can actually observe the outer edge of the pattern, minus those allowances. I suspect the 12 is going to be too large, though it remains to be seen. It would appear that the shoulders will be 16" (a good inch wider than mine) and the bust will be 41" (2.5" larger than mine). Of course, how this will fit is much more ephemeral than simple flat pattern math so I'm going to have to make a muslin to check it out. (Ain't avoiding that, apparently.)

It occurs to me that, for my body - in my experience, so far  - I'd rather cut to fit the bust and then grade all the other areas down a size - exactly what the experts tell you NOT to do. Thing is, the more I learn about my shape, as it interacts with various patterns, the more I discover that I am generally the larger size in the bust only and the smaller size everywhere else. I think this is a strange feature of my narrow proportions. Maybe an FBA won't work for me because I really just need a bit more space in the bust (rather than everywhere). Anyway, this is my latest experiment, based on the learning I've done on bodice fitting in the past few months. Of course, were I draping or drafting to fit my exact size, or working with someone else (S is very occupied at the moment and we're not well set up in my sewga room with the reno) then I would likely approach this another way. But different circumstances call for different measures. And all learning is invaluable.

Moving onto the fun part, here's how I've decided to a) use my stash fabric to b) make something sassy:

Remember this garment:

It was made of 2 fairly expensive fabrics - navy lace and navy silk charmeuse. It just so happens that I have just enough left of each to make this top.  Instructions for the peplum top indicate that the top is lined (the finishing method). Lace, being see-through, will not hide ragged seams, so I will need to underline the lace with the charmeuse in order to create the fashion shell. (Note to reader: Haven't done this before so I wonder how it's going to go.)

Natch, that leaves me still in search of a lining. What to do?

Well, I'm going to use this silk charmeuse, presuming it's compatible with the weight of the navy:

It's an unusual pairing, but I'm motivated to give it a go.

In summary, vis a vis the peplum top, I've got 2 things to work on: fitting this garment (muslin-process) and then making it up. I'm hopeful I can get through the fitting process this weekend.

The Sweater

The other thing to occupy my attention this weekend is finishing the McCardell Convertible. I hope to have the final knitting done tonight or tomorrow. I've sure made a lot of progress in the last 2 days. After this, I still have to block (trying to determine which method to use), press, seam, hem, use ribbon or seam binding on the hem and insert the closure.

I have to say that the second side has gone WAY faster than the first, partly because I figured out how everything will work while making the first side (so I could apply it to the second) and partly because of the detailed instructions I wrote for myself. 

I really hope this thing is going to be wearable - though I'd be wise not to get my hopes up too high. As a distant alternative, I suppose I can hope that it will work perfectly on someone else. You know you've become some crazy-ass crafter when you'll consider your project to have been a success if it teaches you how to avoid pitfalls in your next version.

Today's question: What do you think of the strange pairing on the peplum top?

Reverting

It must be moving towards fall (if slowly) because my impulse to sew has returned. The question is "what to make"? Seriously, I have a zillion patterns and tons of fabric, but I haven't so much as looked at either in a couple of months. Why not? Well, I've been living the summer of perfect weather coupled with the summer of child-freeness. (M comes back tomorrow after six weeks away, fyi.) 

Then there's the small matter of the renovation, which continues. I am grateful to be able to tell you that a very stressful element of the project (that's code for "potential big problem") has been resolved. But unknowns are par for the course with this kind of project. The latest is: Will this job be done by Labour Day?  

Finally, there's my seemingly natural urge to knit when the weather gets warm.  It's not like I've been craft-free all summer. I mean, I made this and this. (I also knit a baby gift set.) And I'm about 60 per cent through the sweater that time forgot. 

This week, I reworked a paragraph of vintage "instructions" into 10 pages of typed up notes, including every row by number and specific stitches required. That took hours but now all I have to do, and I say that with some irony, is to follow these (painstakingly achieved) directions. I debated the merit of investing this kind of extra time on a garment which, as we know, may not fit. (It's somewhat like a bra. Given the construction methodology, there's no way to tell how it's going to work until it's seamed up.) It's not like I haven't also kept pages of hand-written notes.

Thing is, I do intend to make it again. (Stay tuned for more about this.) Even if version 1 isn't a perfect fit, I believe that it will give me the information I require to vastly improve version 2. Right now, I sense version 1 might be too short. That's because I ended up having to cut 2 inches off the bottom in order to ensure I'd have enough yarn to complete the project. (There are times when having a short waist is merciful, for what it's worth, but this thing is true-waist vintage-short to begin with...)

Note (And This Doesn't Make Me Seem Like The Sharpest Tack in the Box): When buying my yarn I neglected to consider that, when one changes one's gauge intentionally to achieve a sweater having a larger circumference, one will require MORE FREAKING YARN to accommodate the increased size. By the time this occurred to me, the LYS had no more of my yarn in stock. The brand is one that hand-dyes lots for individual stores so apparently there is little likelihood of procuring another skein. 

My work-around was to weigh my yarn every other row as I neared the end of the sweater's left half. I knew I had to finish with 160 grams of yarn left over, though how to ensure that would happen (all of the rows increase and decrease and the sweater changes shape radically towards the end) was beyond me. My hack was part math and part intuition and, as it happens, I was left with 160g,  EXACTLY half of my remaining yarn to complete the remaining half of the sweater.  One thing's for sure, I will never know how to alter this sweater for better fit on the next go-around, if I can't produce a finished version 1. So this was a necessary (potential) evil.

Knitting is so "live and learn". While I despise having left over lots of yarn that are too small to do anything with and too large to dispose of, I am starting to see the merit of starting a project with more yarn than I will reasonably need. It seems I often complain about the very real potential that my project is in peril because I a) don't have enough yarn and b) there's no more to be had. It's much less compelling to write about how I have left-over yarn that's just sitting there gathering dust. And, all things considered, it's much less stressful.

But back to sewing. What to make?

For starters, I intend to compare my trove of patterns (many of them new or unconsidered as yet) against my stash of fabric (not inconsiderable) to see what clicks. I suspect a quick win is in order - something that doesn't require too much fitting or more than a weekend in the sewga room to complete. Between the math lesson that is the McCardell Convertible and my last couple of projects (the labour-intensive Tailored Suit and the Fitted Bodice, still in process), I would simply like to enjoy the hand and drape of a (stretchy?) fabric and a garment shape that's known to flatter. I'm itching to sew: to cut and press and stitch. I don't know how much I feel like making a muslin. I guess, the garment will call me and, depending on what it needs, I'll proceed accordingly.

Many people have been very happy with the Renfrew pattern, which I do own. I am also thinking about trying something with buttonholes (?!) because my Singer really does them very nicely and, generally, without incident. I've got some beautiful modal and a sweater knit. And there are lots of garments I've made before, with some success, that I'd be happy to recreate in a new fabric.

What do you suggest? Have you made a pattern recently that fits the bill (good instructions, great finished product, reasonably quick)? I totally want to hear about it!

I'm Getting Somewhere

OK, people, I think I may actually be getting somewhere. I've spent hours on the numbers and draping this morning and finally squealed to Scott: "Eureka! Lord, I'd be lost without math." Whereupon he spit-choked his coffee.

I'd like to advise that, despite his fantastic spatial reasoning skills, he was of no help whatsoever.

Have a look at this:

My speculation is that the vertical piece (wrong side up) that follows the general length of the hardwood seam is the centre back. The pointiest part at the bottom tip  of that vertical line is the left centre back. The part that curves up to the right-hand side of the photo is the side seam leading to the arm seam (obviously, the entire front isn't done, I'm still knitting it). The part of the sleeve you can see is the front. Then, the diagonal bit on the left-hand side of the photo is the front left side of the surplice, the left wrap, if you will. Right now I'm making the front of the left side of the sweater.

In as much as something can be knit on the bias, I believe this puppy is.

Now, let's talk about some of the hideous features of this pattern (which I hope are contained within the instructions and do not spill over into the finished object):

•  OMG, would it have killed Ms. McCardell (or her people) to put together a fucking schematic?? It's not like this is a shell with increases and decreases at the arms and neck.

•  And while we're at it, on nature's most complex pattern, could we go with something more in the directions than: Right Half - reverse shaping from left half. There are increases and decreases on just about every freaking row. I. am. not. joking. One false move and you are making a thneed.

•  The instructions refer to the sleeve edge and the side edge in addition to the centre back edge and the neck edge and the neck facing edge (fucking hell). Technically the sleeve and side edge are the same edge, but when you don't know how the thing comes together, that's impossible to know. By that logic, the neck edge and the centre back edge are the same.  In fact, a big part of the reason that I started draping the fabric is because I couldn't figure out where to do my next batch of increases. Sidebar: Let's assume I'm right about this. I consider this my crafting public service of the month. Maybe even the season. Cuz there's no one else I can find who's made or written about this pattern.

Concerns:

On my math-path (as I call it), I figured out that I've got another 10.5 inches or so to knit on the front left side. That will definitely make the front longer than the back. I have to assume that's the goal of the pattern, to allow for the cross-over at the waist. But that's about 5 inches of extra length over the back. I really hope this isn't going to mess me up.

Why am I so concerned, since I am following the instructions? Well, my gauge is not the same as that of the pattern instructions, of which I'm well aware. This suits me in terms of circumference. BUT: My vertical gauge is 10 stitches per inch rather than 11. You might think it shouldn't matter since I've knitted the entire sweater with that gauge in the same yarn.  However, the sweater instructs - at some points - that one knit to a certain length and at other points that one knit a certain number of rows. Since, all things being equal, my gauge will give me a longer sweater than the pattern's, I'm a bit concerned that the ratios for front and back may be off.

Egad! I love blogging and I love math!! I just figured out how to fix this problem. And I did it just in the nick of time. If you want the deets, let me know, but in short I figured out the difference in length of a variety of rows (my gauge vs. the pattern's) and I'm subtracting it from the part that directs you to knit numbers of rows (rather than the spans wherein you're directed to knit absolute length).

My one other concern at the moment is that this thing isn't going to fit. But I can't really do anything about it at this point. I need to finish at least one side before I can drape it on my dress form for confirmation. If the size is off (up or down), then I'll need to decide whether to frog it or to keep on and give this thing away. One issue at a time...

Shout Out To The (Knitting) Experts: WTF?

Um, if anyone can tell me exactly how this is supposed to turn into a sweater, I'm all ears:

This is the LEFT side of the sweater. It's a mirror pattern. The theory is that the right side will look exactly the same, only in reverse.

My understanding is that the top left side and the top right side (on either side of that notebook) will be seamed together to form a sleeve.

Of course, this side is not finished, there's a decreasing section that's set to start in about an inch and a half.

In case you need a refresher, here's the only pic of the sweater I can find:

It appears that this thing is knit on the bias. Ok, ok, I suspect that's impossible. What I really mean is that it will be seamed so that the final garment falls on the bias.

In truth, it's looking less weird at this point than it has done since I began this endless swatch of stockinette. Now that I've achieved full width at the top (the "sleeve" area), I can almost envision how it will be seamed at the centre back and then under the arms/ at the side.

I still have concerns about the sizing. But really, maybe this is one of those projects you need to finish (at least one side) before you have any sense of what will come next?

Or y'all could enlighten me.

Note: If you have serious concerns that this is never going to be a sweater, feel free to voice them.

Oh, and one final pic to show the lovely colour:

Keep in mind that this is not blocked, so the stitch is not as even as it will look when all is done.

Shout Out to the (Knitting) Experts: Keeping Edges Straight

OK, I think I've encountered one of those vintage knitting lingo moments that has me reasonably concerned that a) I don't know what the hell it means and so b) I just ignored the instruction and now I'm going to have to rip my sweater back to the start.

Do you know this term: keeping the edges straight? It's used in a variety of contexts in my current project: Keep the side edge straight, keep the centre back edge straight etc.

Seems self-explanatory enough. Stay straight.

But, ahem, after observing it 5 times, it occurred to me that I should look up the phrase to see if there's more to it. Seems there is.

(Katy, I didn't understand that what you meant in your comment, about slipping the first stitch, is probably what the pattern advises (without so much as coming out and saying it). Have I mentioned that the vintage people would have done better to actually explain their concepts??)

Here's the question: Should I start over, inserting an extra "edging" stitch at the beginning and end of each row?

My larger dilemma is that I spend practically every row of this project either increasing or decreasing at either or both sides. I'm instructed to start knitting the left side of the sweater by casting 2 stitches on the needle. By the time I finish, I end up with almost 200 stitches.

So, presuming I need to add extra edge stitches for slipping, how does it work with a pattern with so much sharp shaping? I'm told to begin the pattern by casting on 2 stitches, then knitting, then casting on 2 more stitches, then purling (and so on and so on). Instead of following the explicit pattern instructions to cast on 2 stitches to begin, should I just start the whole shebang with 4 cast on stitches? Do I keep those extra 2 "edging" stitches (one beginning, one end) as the ones to be slipped? How will I slip? Only on knit rows? On every row?

More to the point, is this merely a cosmetic thing, or is keeping my edges straight a structural endeavour?

Thanks so much, knitting experts, for any feedback you can provide.

Sincerely, That Novice Who Should Think About These Things Before Spending 10 Hours Knitting