Finished Project: Sweet Jane Pullover

My Sweet Jane Pullover is finally complete:

Disclaimer: As per all plain stockinette garments, the beauty is in the hand and in how it fits and wears. I can't say that these photos show off this pullover to its best effect. And while it was carefully blocked, it hasn't been worn, which is why the sleeves look vaguely wonky. I did a bit of assertive blocking in the upper arms and you can still see the pin points. They disappear completely when worn, of course.

So, what can I say about this knit?

• It's not difficult but you have got to like short rows because they're everywhere (hem, shoulder shaping, sleeve head).

• It's boring knitting. So, so boring. One perks up at the thought of the short rows, if only for novelty.

• Amy Miller, the designer, most definitely has the tightest gauge on the planet - if her pattern recommendations are anything to go by. As mentioned previously, I had to go down 3 needle sizes and I still obtained a gauge that would produce a finished sweater many inches too large. I think her patterns are quite chic, well-instructed and innovative, but we're at opposite ends of the gauge continuum. As a result, it's unlikely I'll knit one of her patterns again soon. There was too much math and near-constant sizing consideration to justify the simplicity of the end result.

• A propos of the bullet above, there's a point to be made that, if you have to go up or down by more than 2 needle sizes, you're going to have to work hard at reproducing the pattern - unless it's something unfitted, like a scarf, and you like the fabric produced by working with the proposed needle size.

In terms of sizing:

• You must fit this perfectly for you, or it will look hideous. Pay careful attention to the shoulder width - which must align with your shoulder tips exactly. The arms should be fitted too - though perhaps not as extensively as mine are! Note: My Quince Chickadee is very yielding (if springy), so blocking achieved my objective. But I would give myself an extra half-inch of circumference in the upper arm next time, if only to avoid having to assertively block.

• If the length isn't also perfect, you'll look wide or boxy. I blocked the short side to 16" of length, and the long to 23", and I might have gone a bit longer (by an inch) on either side. I actually undid the finished hem at the end - such a pain in the ass once I'd bound off 200 plus stitches in rib - and I added another 5 rows to the rib because it really was shorter than I liked. I'd add another inch still, above the hem short rows, were I to make this again.

• Obvs, this garment has no waist shaping but the pattern instructs A line shaping under the bust. I opted to go straight down from the bust (i.e. 38" all the way) and that toned down the volume. If you are a waif - or you have a small bust - then the true A line may flatter. If you have proportionately large breasts, I suggest you tread carefully with the dimensions. I'm still on the fence about whether I love the fit through my mid-section but I'll have to see how my opinion changes with wear because, one thing I've learned: My relationship to my handmade clothing changes as a garment becomes familiar. I become less critical (and often more pleased) over time. Unless I never wear it, that is.

• I always find it ironic that the hardest sweaters to size are the ones without shaping. Remember the 80s, peeps...

• Unless you have very long arms, you're going to want to cut a number of inches off the length. If I'd worked as the pattern instructed, the ribbing would have covered half my hand (and the instructions are for a 3/4 sleeve?!) Others have corroborated this on Ravelry.

In terms of the yarn (which I've written about many times before):

• Quince Chickadee is a very springy plied yarn. It manages to walk an usual line between "nice" and budget - almost like Cascade, but of somewhat higher quality (not that Cascade is in any way low-quality, but it is mass-produced at a certain price point). This makes it quite a good choice for projects requiring lots of yarn. Quince colours are infinitely better than Cascade's, IMO, and the post-blocked hand of the fabric is firmer. There are no synthetics added to the wool. There is no super washing. Quince holds its shape. It's durable. It's doesn't stretch out notably after blocking. In fact, it tends to shrink a bit. I really love whatever sheep are used to produce this yarn. Unsurprisingly, it has a more Northern feel than a Peruvian yarn. There's nothing halo-y or drapey about it. But it isn't at all like that woolen-spun, toothy/crunchy thing Brooklyn Tweed's got going on. 

• Quince works well for many of the kinds of patterns that appeal to me. It's entirely soft enough to wear against the skin but it doesn't bag out. It's particularly good for cowls, mitts, gloves and hats, btw, because it keeps its shape, it's got great stitch definition and it's warm.

• What I don't love about it is that it's quite robust for weight. The fingering feels like sport to me. The sport, like DK. The DK is almost like worsted. And because it holds its shape and springs back - it's not delicate. It can seem a bit thick. You might wonder why I don't just size down when I use it and, you know, I've considered it. That's probably what I'll do next time. If it were easier for me to buy (I have to order it online), I'd experiment. I wish I didn't have to purchase in large batches to justify the cost (which is still acceptable to me, even with the exchange rate). America-dwellers: You can often find it in store - or with very reasonable shipping - and the price point is fantastic. For you, this yarn is a terrific bargain and I urge you to support your economy.

• Never put this in the dryer unless you want a child-size result at the end. You can machine dry it briefly, when almost air dried (to block it to a smaller size) but be careful.

What I did differently this time:

Usually, when I knit a sweater, I weave in the ends before wet-blocking, because I want a finished garment as soon as its dry. But, as you know, I really don't wear any of the dozens of sweaters I've made (some have been given away, 10 sit in my closet). Once you weave in the ends, unraveling a sweater becomes a very unpleasant and challenging task - like it wouldn't be already, what with undoing a hundred hours of work?! This time, I wanted the option to just rip it back immediately, if the fit wasn't right or if I felt I'd never wear it. Then at least, I figured, I could restash the yarn.

Alas, I have issues with this concept. Even more depressing than sacrificing time, unknitting a newly-complete garment is not appealing on other levels. It feels like mending / alterations to me. Or like watching reruns. I don't like to revisit the past, even if it is ecologically-minded. How can I buy NEW soft, delicious, addicting yarn if I still have masses of it in unwound projects? I mean, if I just unravelled the sweaters in my closet (some of which I do have a strange, sentimental attachment to - if only as learning experiences), I'd have so much stash yarn, I wouldn't know what to do with it. And part of my issue with some of those sweaters is the yarn itself! It may have knit-up nicely but I didn't like working with it.

I recall reading about some guy who actually unravels his latest garment whenever he wants to make a new one, because one is enough. Who has this kind of fortitude and obliviousness to novel tactile experiences?

I did opt to weave in the ends, in the end, because I do think/anticipate/hope this pullover might be worn semi-regularly - not in spite of its plainness, but because of it. It's a neutral-toned, blank slate with interesting lines. Which is generally what I wear. What I can't say is whether my perception of its chunkiness (you know I wear FINE denier, RTW cashmere most of the time) will preclude me from choosing it. And if that happens, really, I'm not making any more sweaters. Not until I get a knitting machine and teach myself how to use it (and given my current lifestyle, this may be many years hence). Famous last words, I realize. But let's see how this goes.

I was concerned that blocking first would produce more visible woven-in ends that wouldn't stick as well (given that water and drying didn't integrate them into the main fabric). I needn't have worried. I actually think it was a bit easier to weave in this order - and the final ends are completely invisible / stay put.

So that's everything I have to say about this project. But what about you? Do you like it? (Feel free to be honest - I mean, I'm not the designer! :-)) Would you wear it? Have you made it? Any thoughts on Quince yarn? Let's talk!

6000 Yards

I tend to either sew a lot or knit a lot. These days it's skewed to the sewing with a sock or knit project completion on the side. I do find that socks are a perfect knit in the summer because they are light, easy to transport and enjoyable. So I don't know how (given that socks are largely all I've knit since the beginning of May) that my stash has grown exponentially.

You may recall that by mid-April of this year, I'd used up about 6200 yards of my stash yarn (of all different weights). And then I started yearning for something new to pet...

It started out with 600 yards of this:

Classic Elite Chalet - Bamboo and Alpaca in Stone, Slate and Charcoal

My parents bought this lovely chainette-yarn for me for my birthday when I visited in mid-May. It feels great, it looks great - it's got an ombre gray thing going on. I bought it having seen a knitted sample of the Color Block Bias Wrap. That is what I intend to make with it. I've just today started it. All good.

But then I felt like making a few things that required at least a bit of new yarn. That's how this, this, this and this (new photo pending) came about... Still good - buy yarn / use yarn. That's how it should work.

Then I got a bit sock-frisky and this, this and this were made - from newly purchased yarn natch. Note: I'm going to combine all of the remnants to make a 4th pair of socks. Again, not using stash - but all stash has been assigned to something I can make later. And 2 of these 3 pairs have already been gifted to Sandra and Nicole, to thank them for looking after M while she was sick and I was away. The third pair is technically only half finished.

I also allowed myself, in this grey-phase, to purchase a sweater's-worth of Chickadee in Kittywake (a version of grey). That's 1500 yards I haven't had a chance to use yet:

Quince and Co. Chickadee in Kittywake

I'm pretty sure I'm going to make the Sweet Jane with it. Just haven't closed the loop.

But somewhere along the line, I got a bit sidetracked. 

My goal is to a) be able to fit all of my gorgeous stash into one deep banker's box and b) to ensure that I can use up all of my yarn when I buy it (perhaps by buying more than needed for one project, but by having 2 projects clearly in mind).

The following purchases did not exactly come with that pre-awareness: 

Charlevoix Pure Laine in Grey and Cream

There was no way I was passing up some "real" Quebec yarn while I was in the land of sheep and cheese. I mean, I've never seen it before and I'm likely to have rare access to it. This is a fingering-weight that's purported to be great for socks. It's loosely-twisted 2-ply and it's very airy and it actually has some nylon in it, making it wash-and-dryable, I suspect.  While it's not a merino-bomb, it is rather squishy and soft. I bought 1100 yards. I figure it will make great 2-tone socks - like in a grey theme. You get? If I change my mind, I've got enough of it to make something substantial like a wrap or even a small sweater.

Then I found out that Americo is closing its bricks-and-mortar store (but not online store) and I felt compelled to buy some more tonal-taupe/grey fingering yarn in a chainette construction with lots of air. This is the 3rd time I've purchased airy/chainette yarns in 3 months:

Briza in Stone colourway

I got 4 skeins at 25% off. That's 1600 yards. I truly have no idea what to make with this. Any thoughts?? I'm listening.

And then Nicole went to Iceland a couple of weeks ago and bought me back some gorgeous blue yarn - the only colour I seem to like to knit with other than gray these days:

Istex Kambgarn in Indigo (942)

This is an unusual find - merino in Iceland. It's actually not from Icelandic sheep but from imported merino sheep. It is milled and otherwise processed in Iceland. The colour is gorgeous - not an indigo but not too light. It's quite soft but not excessively drapey. Of course, this is a super generous gift and I LOVE it. But no idea as yet what to make with my 1300 yards of worsted-spun, sport-weight Kambgarn.  It's  a good amount and great weight for a sweater. In truth, I much prefer its sturdy but delicate hand and drape over that produced by the woolen-spun Icelandic fiber. That stuff is interesting but its not my natural preference. Of course, learning more all the time, I have begun to realize my penchant neither for very soft/squishy merino/cashmeres nor the hairy, stiff woolen-spuns. I fall somewhere on the middle of the continuum. I suspect that most of us do.

So now I appear to have a) no room in the box cuz I've acquired b) 6100 additional yards of sport or fingering-weight yarn. Wow - that seems really out of line with "smart stashing".

Or does it? I've got 4 great batches of yarn in adequate yardages to actually think big(ish). I've been using most of what I purchase immediately, because it's set out for something specific. Even in instances where stash has preceeded pattern,  one batch I got on sale for a really good price, 2 others were actually FREE! One I bought to commemorate a vacation. Seriously, this could be worse. In fact, it was worse when I'd buy without knowing anything much about the properties of yarn I wanted or the needs of my projects or how much yarn one requires to do something specific. Also, keep in mind that I've bought and immediately used @2500 yards of yarn since I finished with the Stash Bust in April. That means I'm using the new stuff at a good rate. 

NO doubt, I'm not buying anymore yarn until I've used up another 6000 yards of my current stash. That could happen by next spring, conceivably. I'm  a pretty organized knitter and I do love an outcome. But till it does happen, I will not buy. I have more than enough yarn of the weights and yardages I often use to get me through the winter. Maybe this is my way: 6000 yards in, 6000 yards out. Seems odd but I'm willing to consider it.

But how about you? Do you serially stash? Do you organize and resist even on vacation? What do you think of my new yarns and my, um, rationalization sound argument for more sheep hair ? Let's talk.

Bust The Stash: There's More Than One Way to Get There

Right now I have 4900 yards remaining in my stash which, given that I started at 7500 yards (2 months ago) isn't bad. I actually think I might have neglected to add in about 1000 yards initially (because I bought extra yarn for the Decalage scarf and then ripped back the KNUS sweater), but even if I was accurate with my original count, 2600 yards is 2 and half sweaters worth of yarn. I'm making progress.

One of the larger yardages in my stash has been Quince and Co Tern (fingering-weight silk and wool blend) in the Barnacle colourway. I used some of it to knit this cowl shawl in the fall, on my way to my grandmother's funeral as it happens. Even if that experience did undercut my enjoyment of the wool, I never liked the colour. I thought it would be more grey, less green. I have been putting off using it, complaining about how it just doesn't excite me, whereupon one of my work friends suggested that I try to return it.

Um, I bought it, online from Quince, in October 2014. It did not occur to me that a return would be feasible. But the yarn was still in the hanks, with the labels, in perfect condition (having been well-stored). Furthermore, I love Quince yarn (though Tern isn't my fave) and I'd use a credit very easily. So I emailed them and they responded immediately advising that I could indeed send it back. Of course, Quince yarn is so affordable that the credit will be a mere $28.50 US (and I spent 10 bucks to return the yarn). But this means I can put it towards a more practical yarn purchase at some point in the future. The best thing of all is that I'm down 660 yards AND I don't have to knit with a yarn I'm never going to enjoy.

On the topic of stash-busting, I've been thinking a lot about Felicia's stash-less philosophy. One of her emerging perspectives is that, if you make a sweater (for example) that you will NEVER wear (sound like someone you know?), the most sustainable way to manage the issue is to rip it back and restash the yarn. My way, to date, has been to give the sweater away. Then I don't have to deconstruct something that's taken 100 plus hours to make and I get to be generous. But Felicia has a point. It's not the least wasteful methodology. It's also not the cheapest. Scott thinks that this argument is crazy. He likens it to tearing down your large house to make it smaller when you don't need as much space anymore.

On the flip side, it's boring to knit with the same yarn 3-plus times. Ask the yarn-end stash-buster how she knows. There's something to be said for variety - and what it teaches one. How would I know how yarn works if I only knit with the same fiber till I perfected, to my own mind, the end result. Did I mention that ripping that shit out is PAINFUL. Furthermore, way to increase the stash numbers endlessly! Am I really ruining the world by choosing not to unknit what I've made? I mean, if I want to be sustainable (and I do), should I not buy myself a sheep (even if it lives remotely) and make all of my yarn, from scratch?

I'm not being rhetorical here. I really don't know the answer. So I'm looking for feedback.

Do you often unknit the projects you've made to reuse the yarn? Does it totally stress you out? Do you routinely return unused hanks for credit (or do you get complacent and leave it in the stash)? Do you resent knitting 18 hats for puppies when you have miles of 40 yards ends to contend with. Am I overthinking this? Please, let's talk.

Bust the Stash: Finished Object 1 - Mirri Cowl

I don't know when it happened that "Bust the Stash" got a bit "who cares what goes wrong, I'm forging ahead" - but that's kind of where I landed with the Mirri Cowl. Do not misunderstand. It's a great pattern - so much so that I'm casting it on for the second time in about 10 minutes but, Lord, how did all everything go wrong?:

• Twisted the stitches on the second row but didn't realize it until the 5th. At that point, the idea of re-casting on 280 stitches (my modified number) for a third time (first time failed) really wasn't appealing. Of course, I neglected to consider that this cowl has a right-side and a wrong-side to the fabric. Not exactly seed stitch... So a twist in the cowl means one is destined to see the wrong side of the fabric in some places at any given moment. Mind you, once you double wrap a cowl around your neck, that happens anyway...

• Ran out of yarn. I predicted (with math) that I'd have 5 g of yarn remaining at the end, but that's because I subtracted incorrectly. Doesn't help that I understand all of the complex ways to determine sizing if I can't subtract for shit. I actually ran out of yarn 3/4 of the way through the bind off. Twice. First time, on realizing I was short yarn, I ripped back 10 rows (to maintain the integrity of the lace pattern), subtracted a knit row and also subtracted one of the rib rows at the end. (That go round, I was short about half a row.) Second time I was short a third of a row (though it makes no sense because I cut an extra row?!?!). I used some white Koigu in my stash, held double, to approximate the weight and feel of the more robust Quince Finch. It looks strangely intentional but the first time I tried to finish the bind off with this yarn I realized how weedy it looked with just a strand, hence my work-around, holding the yarn double on the second try. I was out of alternatives cuz there was no way I was ripping back 15 rows, on the third try, to shorten this pattern by yet another row. I'd been burned twice and it shouldn't have been an issue even once!

• Clinging to the idea that I'd have enough yarn to finish the bind off with the just the Finch, I cut every tail (usually I weave them in after knitting new yarn in) and tied the tails with double knots to the yarn end. My desperate aim was to eke out the enough yardage with a last few yards held together with knots - way to compromise the integrity of the work. In my life have I never done this.

• Not to mention that, right out of the gate, I messed with the pattern by making this piece shorter than (fewer stitches in the circumference - which, it turns out, is no issue as regards the finished length) and narrower than (less optimal but still ok) the pattern calls for in the larger size.

On the plus side, I don't have one fucking yard of yarn remaining and, while blocking, I can see that my errors are going to be invisible to anyone who wears this. Here's a little shot of it as it blocks:

Mirri Cowl Take 1 - you can see my yarn disaster work-around on the top left of the scarf (in the bind off row). That's Koigu held double finishing the cowl.

I'll show you how it looks, once dry, and we can decide how it turned out.

Gotta say, my next version will be started from scratch until I don't twist the stitches - whether that takes one time or more. And that second version will be made with 2x the yardage that I used to make this one, so there's no way I'll run out.

Thoughts or feelings?

Die Cut Vest: Gauge and Yarn Deets

So, I was able to achieve an appropriate gauge to continue with the Die Cut Vest.

As discussed, what I required, in order to predict a finished width of 41" (after removing a couple of extra inches from the centre back) and a length of 18.5" was gauge of 6.75 stitches and 9.75 rows in one inch. As life isn't perfect, I got 7 stitches and 9.5-9.75 rows in an inch. That'll get me a finished length of 18 inches, which I can live with, and a width of 41" once I remove 2-2.5 inches from the centre back seam.

To clarify, the pattern suggests a 3mm needle. I'm working on a 2.5mm and, while the fabric is dense, I prefer it to the looser fabric I achieved on the 2.75mm needle. As it happens, once I started reading the Ravelry reviews in detail, I discovered that everyone has trouble getting gauge on the 3mm needle. Seriously. And most resort to a 2.5mm to get gauge. So the only explanation I can imagine for lots of oversized versions is the 9 inches of positive ease that the pattern doesn't clarify. I suspect everyone has made a size (or two) too large.

As you know, I'm a loose knitter so I'm not aiming to get gauge. It wouldn't be possible without the fabric turning into cardboard. A few of you suggested that I modify stitch numbers to achieve the finished garment size I'd like. There are 2 reasons that isn't a viable option for me at this time:

• I'm just not interested in doing anymore math than I already have to make a shapeless vest, but more to the point...
• The lacework panels are worked over 12 stitch repeats (remember, they're worked vertically, along the length). In order to change my stitch counts I'd need to drop 12 stitches (way too much length) or to totally reconstruct the lace pattern (outside of my current skill set).

But happily, I can still manage the dimensions with my best-choice needle size, so all is well.

Well, all is well except that I find myself knitting lacework for the second freakin' time this year (not to be confused with lace-weight - which is the annoying distinction of the Karner Wrap)?!?

Peeps, I don't appear to be liking it any better than I did last time. Lord, what a fussiness. The reason I'm putting up with it is that I only have 70 rows of lace work on each panel (140 rows total, each row having 125 stitches). It's not endless and it culminates, on each side, in a sea of stockinette. So you go from feast to famine, or hard to boring - not always a bad thing in a knitting project. And, at least, there are no sleeves!

But really, my goal in this post is to tell you about my yarn choice.

You know that I love Quince and Co. and that it's my go-to stash brand in fingering and sport-weight yarn. You also know that I have frequently expressed my hatred of linen. But what's a girl to do when a) linen is all the rage and b) a cute and interesting garment is constructed for a linen yarn?

She buys the Quince and Co. linen (aka Sparrow):

Quince and Co. Sparrow (linen in fingering-weight)

I know, I swore I'd never buy linen of any sort. I even had a chance to feel this linen (and to dislike it) on a few occasions before I bought 5 skeins for the Die Cut Vest. Thing is, the vest is meant for linen. Sure, I may not like the finished product. I'm all prepared to give this one away. But you can't use wool to make something designed for linen.

On the plus side, one doesn't overheat when knitting this in July. (In full disclosure, this July is shit-cold.)

Thoughts about Sparrow so far:

• I went with the Pigeon colourway. It's GORGEOUS. Too bad they named it after the world's most pedestrian bird.
• The yarn has beautiful sheen but it still feels like kitchen string.
• It's splitty, but for some reason its splittiness isn't problematic.
• It knits slowly. There's a kind of effort in knitting with linen.
• It does become much softer with washing - and you can wash the crap out of it. This stuff is strong, if not delicate.

I've only got 10 rows into the first lacework panel and I feel I'm almost finished with the first skein. Yeah, I did knit 2 swatches that I can repurpose, but I hope these skeins feel smaller than they are or I'm definitely going to need more yarn. And, on the topic of turning Sparrow hanks into skeins: Egad. I wound the first hank by hand (with Scott) and it disintegrated 5 times before I found a groove. I don't know how this would wind on my ball winder but I'm kind of scared to try.

Today's questions: Have you wound Sparrow on a ball winder? How did it go? Have you used the Pigeon colour? What do you think of it? How do you feel about linen - and by all means, be honest. I mean, I hate the stuff! Let's talk!

Staying the Course

You know what makes it really hard to shut up and just knit the project you're actually working on? Like, the one you swatched and blocked for, and are 6 inches through the body of, and for which you stashed that ridiculous quantity of online-purchased wool...

Shit like this (click on the image below to see the entire collection):

Whatever.

On the plus side, I'm 6 inches into this pattern:

Blanche Too by Susan Crawford

Using this yarn:

Quince and Co. Chickadee in Lichen

Of course, I have a lot to say about the whole process it but it's going to have to wait for another post...

In the meanwhile, thoughts or feelings about any of this?