Finished Object: A Simple Sock (Made Less Simple)

If you want to take an easy knit and make it difficult, add some striping. Specifically, add stripes to a small diameter tube (i.e. socks). Because, in addition to making sure that you switch up your colours appropriately (and this is somehow harder to remember than you'd imagine), you need to do special things to ensure that your yarn colour will carry up (or else you're going to have to cut the yarn and weave it in at the end). You'll also want to ensure that you won't get a jog at the stitch where the stripes change colour.

I'm not going to go into too much technical detail.

• Lots of blogs will tell you how to do the jogless jog (just google it). 

• Lots of blogs will tell you how to carry up your yarn as you switch colours. Intriguingly, the process of wrapping the yarn as you carry up seems to be very personal - and almost a kind of magic. If you wrap in one direction, with one yarn over the other, you'll see the wrong-colour yarn peek through to the front of the work. But there doesn't seem to be any clear way to prevent this. It's person-specific. Trust me, I've read a lot (even the instructions that tell you that there is one way), and they didn't work. You'll be able to do this, but it'll probably take practice (unless you get lucky).

What I am going to do, in this post, is talk about what it's like to make striped socks from 3 different skeins of yarn (having 3 different, solid colours).

Guess I might as well introduce the main event:

Some things to note:

• I actually did math to ensure that I'd use up every bit of the relevant fingering yarns. I know that I consistently use 75 grams of fingering yarn to make a pair of socks. I had 34g of the Tosh Sock, 25g of the Koigu blue and 16g of Koigu purple. I know. Freaky. (Of course, it would have been easier to have had the same amount of each but c'est la vie.)

• Alas, this means I couldn't stripe evenly and I actually had to think about how I wanted the striping to pattern out.

• I messed up on the first sock, which meant I had to improvise a bit. Not sure I love the outcome, but I just ensured to match the second sock, round for round, with the first.

• Striping with yarns of radically diff colours is challenging, esp. if you're going to carry up more than one strand of yarn per round. What I mean is that, when you have 3 colours in your stripe pattern, that means you are always carrying up 2 colours per round - and that, twisted, vertical line of carry-up yarn can get thick and ropey feeling on the inside of the sock. 

• Furthermore, dark colours are likely to show through at the join when you switch to the light colour. To carry up 2 strands of dark yarn behind one strand of light yarn is a challenge, no matter what your method. It's the difference between one person to standing behind a narrow wall vs two. You've only got so much wall before you become visible to those on the other side.

• That's why I opted to cut the yarns and weave in the ends. BUT... This didn't exempt me from needing to wrap the yarns before I switched from one colour to another. Otherwise, I got a little hole where the colours shifted. (That hole can be wrapped and tightened after the fact but it's smoother to close it as you work.)

• I figure that, if I'd been working with only 2 colours in total  - and my stripes were uniform - and no more than 2-4 rows thick - then carrying up the yarn would have made sense. But to be all over the map with stripe thicknesses AND to have 2 colours to deal with carrying up means that the sock looks and feels better with woven ends. Note: I'm not bad at weaving in ends but I struggle with dupicate stitch (the best method for doing this). I think it may be because I'm left-handed and everything is explained for right-handed people. Usually, I just follow the right-handed method (my brain is fairly plastic like that) but with this particular technique, it's not working so well. I should look up some left-handed techniques online - wonder if there are any... Not that it matters, particularly, cuz I am good at using other methods of weaving in ends. It just bothers me that I haven't been able to get with duplicate stitch as yet.

• I learned that thicker stripes work better if you're not going to carry up the yarn (i.e. weave in ends afterwards). Those ends take for fucking ever. 

• Let's talk about one more thing: the jogless jog. To accomplish this, I used the method of lifting and knitting (with the current stitch) the right leg of the stitch below the one I was working, as I began the second round after switching colours. Didn't work so well, IMO, since it's pretty apparent to me where the colour jogs appear on my socks. I sense this has something to do with the fact that my right-legs of stitches were attached to a short strand of yarn (because that colour had just been reattached on the previous round). Good reason, I suppose, to carry up the yarn or to find a better jogless jog method. My stripes are pretty neat, but they're not perfect.

When Will I Do This Again?

Well, not often. If I find myself with @25g of 3 colours of compatible sock yarn OR @37.5g of 2 diff colours, I'll give it another go. Realistically, that's not going to happen frequently. I know I will not stripe with more than 3 colours because I don't love weaving in ends that much - and I do worry about the overall integrity of a sock with too many woven-in joins.

Gotta say, though, I was left with just 4 grams of yarn over three different skeins at the end of this project - so it was a wildly successful stash-buster, if finicky.

New Knitting!

In a rather unusual turn (at least, these days), I finished a pair of socks:

What I was thinking, photographing this on that blue rug, is beyond me...

Apologies - photo is tootally overexposed cuz my rechargeable flash batteries have died and I had to take this shot under the most absurd lighting conditions. They're actually a very rich blue.

They only took 7 weeks, not that I'm counting.

Angela does this thing where she knits herself a pair of socks in time to celebrate her birthday. I've decided to give this tradition a go cuz, really, I enjoy hand-knitted socks more than I ever could have imagined... That would be before Gillian dared me about a year and a half ago to make my first pair - despite my utter disdain for the homemade sock. Do you know I am the first one she dared?

I got a kick out of drying these babies on the stairs leading from the deck to the back garden. How often do I get to use the energy of the sun to dry anything??

The yarn is Koigu KPM which I originally bought to make these socks (along with some KPM in Ivory). Then I actually ready the Starry Starry Night pattern and decided it was never going to happen. OK - it's not happening till I'm retired. Who has that kind of attention to colour-work and detail - in freakin' fingering-weight yarn?!

I'm not exactly a knitting superstar these days - so I'm keeping my expectations realistic.

I do intend to return to my Custom Fit Basic Cowl, like this evening. Cuz I'd like kind of like it to be ready by this fall, you know? It has been on the needles since mid-Oct 2014, after all. On the plus side, the space-time continuum has not warped as a result of my inefficiency - and it's all ok. I have other sweaters.

Occasionally, you have to be grateful for the things that are very hard to take: If I were knitting at my old-style pace, there'd be no time to delve deeply into the world of handmade, natural skin care. I'm not going to suggest that pain is a blessing (fuck that concept), but it is a reality sometimes, and knowing it for what it is has vastly increased my ability to manage it - both because my threshold has shifted to embrace an encroaching level of awareness and also because the pain has been mercifully manageable over the past 3 months.

Peeps, I'll take it.

My self-devised hybrid of MELT, yoga (of a variety of types) and the Roll Model Method has been invaluable. My cycles have also shifted radically (lengthened by 6 days), providing a longer interval before the peaks and valleys of hormonal chaos. It's giving me time to shore myself up.

How I got from new socks to my period is beyond me. Honestly. Stream of consciousness much? It must be time to sign off, find some food and assemble an order. But do let me know what you think of (almost) birthday socks. Or handmade socks in general. I'm sure we've had this discussion in the past - but converts like to chat with the hold outs. :-)

A Little Bit More About Socks...

Thanks to everyone who's been sending photos of their finished socks (or posting them on their blogs). I'm thrilled by all of your beautiful efforts! I do intend to do a follow up post with pics, closer to the end of the month, when more folks have had a chance to finish the Two Socks, One Week KAL (see the sidebar if you'd like a pattern and road map for making a simple pair of socks). (Hey Barb - I couldn't reply to your email because your anti-spam software doesn't like my email program. But I did get your photo of the lovely socks!)

Anyway, today I must send you over to Clio's blog where she shows her own KAL efforts-to-date and provides a self-drafted, toe up, simple sock recipe.

I totally want to learn toe up socks, though I don't have any challenges with toe-grafting or Kitchener stitch lumps and bumps (which Clio says she struggles with sometimes). I just like the idea of knowing another method - one which is better to work if you have limited yarn. Thing is, I haven't really been motivated to learn a new method in the context of a complicated pattern.

I do love sock recipes (the likes of which A Simple Sock is). I just want to know the gist of things, and the steps (and some links to the techniques required to do the steps) so that I can feel comfortable giving it a go.

Let's say some of you are interested in the KAL, but not in my pattern's cuff down method, well, Clio's pattern is a great alternative.

Finally, check out the colours of her sock - knit in ToshSock - seriously the most delicious yarn on the planet. Those Tosh peeps really know how to dye.

Mea Culpa

Never let it be said that I don't admit when I'm wrong change my perspective based on new information.

People, I take it back about making socks.

I can't, in good faith, continue to let you think that I hate them. In fact, having just completed the first sock of the second pair, I actually appear to be enjoying things.

A few moderating details:

• This time I modified a bunch of free, online patterns to suit my needs. The result: I'm knitting a stockinette sock with some cuff ribbing - aka as simple as it gets - in a circumference of 56 stitches rather than the standard 64. Better for my twig ankles, and I might, in future, scale down to 52. Note: Socks seem to work in repeats of 4 stitches, in my limited experience.

• I also went from using a slippery, spongy yarn with a needle having lots of traction (bamboo) to using a dense yarn with a (metal) needle having lots of slip. Repeat this mantra (at least if you're using magic loop and you're me): Less grip, more slip. 

• It's official. I hate silk in yarn. I loathe how it makes it all floppy and drapey. In a sock, anything but strong, dense and close-fitting is untenable. No joking, as I write this, my daughter is wearing her new hand-made socks and saying: You need to make more in this yarn. It's so springy and soft!

• The Regia, however, is work-horse. It barely stretches, much less grows! The stitches are so tight and tiny and I love them.

• OMG - I finally understand the appeal of variegated yarn! It's so exciting to see, with each little round, what splotch or stripe or stray little pin-prick of colour will appear next. It's like magic colouring! Is it ugly? Hell yes! But it's so unrepentant, so jubilant in its ugliness that it's hard not to forgive and forget.

• To wit, I somehow managed  to buy this:

More Regia variegated Color Twin sock yarn

• Trust me. It's a whole new level of ugly. And I'm vaguely psyched.

I can't say that many socks are in my future, but I am going to give it 3 pairs before I make up my mind.

Given that I'm half inclined to do a Sock Week series - in which I talk about various sock-related things and tell you how truly doable it is to knit a pair of them in a week - something tells me I may not be done with them. But I've accomplished this year's goal, thank you Gillian, and that's all I set out to do.

What do you think of my new yarn? Is it not 110% insane? Let's talk about what you like in a sock yarn. Variegated pattern? Cashmere? Machine-washability? I want to know!

In Which I Unwittingly Convince You of My Insanity

Oh Lord. There I was all sock-hateful and then something happened.

It might have been the (fortuitous, apparently) 2mm needle breaking - which liberated me to move to a 2.25mm needle. It might have been the moment when I actually stopped caring and gained a rhythm. No doubt it had everything to do with your chorus of comments - each of which gave me key information in moving forward.

Sock 1 took 20 hrs. Sock 2 took 10.

Here's the result:

Yeah, they're really blue...

Yeah, I realize these are not the best socks in the world. They don't have the smoothest stitch, the yarn (I now know) is suboptimal for socks; it's too spongy. I don't much like the pattern.

But my kid took one look at these and it was like someone gave her a puppy for Christmas. OMG - she LOVED them. I made her an entire freakin' sweater and I got a respectful thanks. These socks, I sense she would have cut me for them. What with my not liking them particularly, it was a win-win. :-)

Then it occurred to me that if I'd never made another sweater simply cuz I didn't like the pattern, outcome and process (each of which has occurred at times) then I'd never have got anywhere!

So, grudgingly, here's to the merits of socks:

• What appeals so much - I suspect - to so many people is the formulaic nature of sock-knitting. Don't get me wrong. You can make super-complex socks in zillions of ways. But once you've cracked a code, you can make them again and again and again and again with nary a second thought. My own disastrous first sock experience followed by a relatively smooth second sock experience proves that point - and I've only ever made one pair.

• They really are much beloved. You sock-makers are like a cult! :-) And you've somehow inculcated my kid! There's got to be something to these "handmade socks". I owe it to generations of wonderful sock knitters - and my excellent commenters - to investigate further.

• Can't get more practical than a pair of socks, no? And I am a pragmatic woman, after all...

• Apparently - and I can't defend this yet - they last way long and keep you toasty warm.

Moreover, here are some things my excellent readers have recently taught me:

• The best sock yarn is 75% wool and 25% nylon.

• 10 stitches per inch (horizontal gauge) will knit an optimally strong fabric, though anything above 8 stitches per inch is fairly strong.

• Regia is a very respected sock yarn brand, from Germany. It's not exciting, particularly, but it makes the most durable yarn and the first-wave knitters really appreciate it for that reason.

• Plain is good. I mean, if ribbing seems too showy, maybe I've got off lucky. Cuz stockinette socks are much easier to knit than crazy patterns. That's ok.

• Variegation (and patterns) keep the project interesting. I want to say they're the only thing that keeps it interesting, but I don't want to incite mutiny! I suspect, if I get to watch some kind of colour-work emerge, I'll be more excited to go from beginning to end. And, who knows, under boots I may just wear them even if they're not black!

Which is why, crazy-compulsion style, I went out and got new yarn and needles.

Here's a (somewhat wan) pic of the yarn, which is actually pretty snappy in that crazy variegated way I don't understand:

Photo source: Mariannes Wolle

The new needles are another set 2.25mms - this time pointy Addis. I know that some say one should avoid metal with socks and magic loop at all costs (Katy I hear you), but I worked the other pair on bamboo and, with the gauge of the needle paired with the loop, I just found it all too much effort to go from one stitch to the next. I think I need the slip to get a groove. Which, let's face it, is the primary thing that makes the process of knitting fun. We're about to see...

I don't want you to think I'm a sock convert. This may well be the last pair I ever knit. But at least I'll have given it the college try.

So, what do you think of my new stance? Am I seemingly schizophrenic, what with the sock hate and then the sock acceptance? Do you think the new yarn is utterly hideous - no leading questions here, the photo really isn't flattering. Let's talk!