You Never Can Tell

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Svalbard Cardigan by Bristol Ivy

Remember how conflicted I was about how it would look on me (given its boxy dimensions), how truly stressful the knitting experience turned out to be?

Well, turns out I wear this thing often. Like, probably more than any other sweater I've made to date.

It occurs to me that many knitting bloggers write about their lovely finished objects (or the process by which they make them), but you don't hear a lot about them after the fact. Ever wonder how those objects work within regular wardrobe rotation?

A few months on, what can I tell you about my Svalbard cardigan?

• I really nailed the size and proportions. I couldn't have made a suboptimal (for me) garment shape suit me more than this does. But I worked my ass off to achieve those proportions, so I'm taking the credit. The point: If your sweater fits, you are more likely to wear it.

• The yarn I chose (Quince and Co. Chickadee) was a sound choice for a sweater that gets a lot of wear. It doesn't pill. It's extremely resilient. The recovery on this fabric is excellent - which is important when you're wearing a heavy bag over your shoulder, directly against that yarn. This yarn does not create a luxe fabric, but it does create a very wearable one. And it's soft, even as it's not delicate.

• If you're going to make a casual sweater to go with a variety of things, make it in a colour that goes well with that variety of things. You might say that denim goes with everything, for example. But unless you wear neutral tops with your jeans, you should carefully consider working in a neutral, if rich, yarn colour. The photos don't show the true colour of my Svalbard. It's richer than it seems in pics, more subtle than navy. And yet it goes with just about every other colour you could think of. I'm sure this is one of the many reasons it gets worn regularly.

• This sweater is warm! It's an awesome layering piece but it can work as a topper on its own, weather depending. So I've got options.

• The style is modern and chic. It's not fussy. You can throw this thing in your bag. I don't like to babysit my sweaters - and I don't like to wash them every 5 minutes. The Svalbard fits the bill.

• But finally, it's a really nice finished product. I did make a mistake but it's so well-disguised, even I can't find it without a very good look - and I know what I'm looking for. I sort of love the error that lives in this fabric because it's a constant reminder that knitting is about problem-solving, not constantly ripping back to attain perfection. Over all, I did the difficult prep, really nice work and I chose my materials well. It's not often I feel this good about a hand knit sweater.

Today's question: What's the most worn hand-knitted object in your wardrobe and why? Let's talk!

Finished Object: The Svalbard Cardigan

You can tell how ambivalent I am about everything these days because I finished this thing 2 weeks ago, and I haven't bothered to take pics till now.

Here's the Svalbard cardigan:

No two ways about it, this thing does not photograph well. If you want a sweater to look cute in a photo, make sure it has waist shaping. Or wear it (which was never gonna happen what with how I look today.)

See how sweetly the ribbing mitres at the curve? That's some nice drafting...

You can see a bit more of the structure in the flat shots...

And here's that cute heart detail on the back yoke... I think you would agree, the error that cost me hours (while not gone) is not noticeable.

In the final analysis, I think this looks best on Andrea - but she swears it looks terrific on me.

Points of Interest

• I could not have altered this to fit me any better. The shape is what it is - which is to say not hourglass. I made this as small in the shoulders and arms as I could (smallest size knit on yarn of smaller gauge than called for) and that's why it's not a total freakin' tent.

• As it happens, though you can go crazy modifying the pattern any way you want: unadjusted, the sleeve width is dependent on the yoke size. The reason most people find the sleeves too large is because said sleeves are wide relative to the shoulder-width. Note: Altering the sleeves at the pick up row involves some tricky stitch pattern modification. I wouldn't do it. Since the whole garment seems to fit most people too large, I'd fix it at the get go by making a smaller size overall.

• Know the properties of your yarn. I've knitted with Chickadee before so I know that it grows a lot when you wet block it, but it rebounds. With this pattern, you do not want to work with a yarn that doesn't recover well. In fact, the sponginess of my yarn will either work to give this garment a long life of shape-constancy, or it may work against it. There's a point to be made that a very stable yarn would be good. Note: There will be impacts of this choice, if you go with a smaller size.

• I've said it before and I'll say it again: Unless you have a wide shoulders, a broad back and/or thick upper arms, you probably want to make the smallest size. Not a smaller size, the smallest. Or, if you can't bring yourself to do that, knit least 2 sizes smaller than you would normally.

• Once you get past the underarm gussets, the rest of the pattern is very simple, if not totally quick. Mind you, getting to the underarm is fucking tricky. I don't know that the end-result warrants the effort, honestly, though I'm glad I undertook this challenge. It was a very interesting knit.

• If you are short, squat, square, busty or very broad, chances are this sweater will not be the most flattering shape on you. Hey - I fall into one of those categories and I made this garment, nonetheless... And I like it, even if it's not going to be my go-to garment. It's chic with skinnies and boots.

So - what do you think? Would you make this? Would you wear it? Let's talk!

Goings On

So, more snow on the ground this morning - stupid, stupid snow. Yeah, it's the kind that just makes everything unpleasant, it's not accumulative. But it puts one in the worst of moods.

Mind you, sitting on the couch and knitting does seem de rigeur. (All of you knitters in more southern climes are so disadvantaged when it comes to the breadth of knitted objects you can actually make to use regularly). That's what I'm telling myself.

OK, there is progress on the Svalbard:

Keep in mind that this shell is still unblocked, which is why the ribbing is fluttery. Bind off is tough on something so unstructured and having approximately 450 stitches. The fabric will recover once it's been soaked and dried to size.

Some things of note:

• Once you get past the underarm gussets (those little triangle-shaped things at the underarms), it's a very uncomplicated knit. Mind you, it's insanely tricky until you get to that point, which is why I do not recommend this unless you are a very confident and active knitter.

• My error - right at the start of the yoke - has moved the underarm gusset on the affected size (the left) over by one stitch. It's not observable but I do wonder if it's going to torque the fabric as, effectively, I've made the fabric very slightly "off grain". I don't think it's going to be a problem - which is why (though I've known this since I realized the error) I've continued on. 

• I am very pleased with my fitting efforts to the extent that they are in my control. I altered the size by using DK-weight yarn (vs. the instructed, thicker worsted-weight). Given that I knit so loosely (even using my newish flicking method) it meant I could stick with the recommended needle size for the body. I did have to go down 2 needle sizes for the rib, vs. the one needle size recommended, because rib is where my loose knitting goes crazy. I also shortened the body to suit my dimensions and it's the perfect length in the back. The dilemma with this knit is that the back dimensions are entirely linked to the front (as this is all knit in one piece). Sure, I could have used short rows to lengthen the front but that would have added a layer of complexity to the construction I was entirely disinterested in taking on.

• The net result of the ingenious construction is that the front panels are proportionately very wide, no matter what you do, and the sides of the body, moving towards the back are too wide for most. This is why the pattern favours a straight, slender frame though, in truth, it would work well on a person with a thick middle having a small bust. In that instance the extra fabric would be uptaken by waist thickness but that thickness would not be over-emphasized by large breasts.

• My point is, I've done the best I can with a pattern that doesn't necessarily favour my shape - and really, doesn't favour most shapes, truth be told. Because my version is even smaller than the smallest size, it fits very well in the shoulders (which is to say, very closely). Most of the versions I've seen are just too big in the shoulders (which then makes them too wide in the arms, given the dictates of the unaltered pattern).

• The key to this will be in the blocking. I may opt to block the front panels longer than they currently sit, to move the widest volume of the front away from my widest part (my full bust). That will also restructure the fabric so that it becomes less wide as it becomes longer, though not too much (alas) as the fabric is SO stretchy it's ridiculous. Really, this thing has about 100% stretch factor given the rib. Practically everyone should be making the smallest size - regardless of their dimensions - unless they have very wide, broad shoulders and thick arms.

So, this weekend I hope to finish the sleeves and block this sweater. And then we'll see if it flatters. If not, someone's gonna have a nice new sweater with very little effort...

Thoughts?

Svalbard Sweater: Still in the Game

Honestly, you think I'd be more hateful about this project - given how it tortured me and how, frankly, I'm hateful about everything these days.

Alas, it's so ingenious, I am in its thrall. And I did manage to fix the error of doom which is how I'm at this point:

You can see the tiniest amount of weirdness at the height of the underarm, along the back of the sweater, in this overexposed photo. That's not because there is error, but because, in fixing the error along that row, the stitch tension was messed with. I believe that this will disappear altogether in blocking. Note: You cannot see it when you look at the sweater itself, only in the photo, given the lighting...

Cartridge stitch makes for an incredibly spongy and stretchy knit. I am happy I went with the smallest size - and that I'm using DK weight yarn (instead of the recommended, thicker, worsted weight). Purposefully, my version will be even smaller than the dimensions of the smallest size, and I will achieve my required armscye depth of 6.5" (vs. the 7.5 inches that the pattern would produce, were gauge achieved on the smallest size) and the required narrowness at the shoulders so that it doesn't look like a boob-highlighting sack. That's the theory, anyway.

I cannot abide 8 inches of positive ease - even if that's the look of the sweater. I think it is too slouchy and unfitted on the majority of wearers whose photos I've seen - and many of those wearers corroborate this perspective, regardless of the sizes they've made.

Keep in mind, there will be a rib border of 3 inches - preceded by a stockinette border of approx 0.5 inches added on to the edge of the sweater, so it's still going to be pretty wide in the end... And I do hope that 3 inches isn't too tall at the back of my neck or I might be forced to make my rib border a bit narrower than 3 inches.

In addition to my concern about ensuring that this garment fits perfectly in the shoulders (so that it emphasizes my smallness where it is visible (cuz I'm not going to be able to play up my waist or underbust when wearing it), I'm not concerned about it fitting over the full bust. It's an cardigan that will stretch to close with a pin (should I choose). But when it's open, I don't want a ton of bulk at the sides of my boobs or over my chest or it's going to look bad on me.

So, what do you think of it so far? Do you think I've got a chance at producing this such that it will work with my shape?

Svalbard Sweater: Five Photos and A Zillion Words are Worth, Um...

For what it's worth (and I suspect not much), I won this battle of erroneous cartridge stitch. I'm able to tell you about it from the comfort of my own home, which is where I am right now, as there's a blizzard outside and it's considered unsafe to be traveling later in the day. Yeah, you read that right. There's a half a foot of snow on top of a foot of compacted snow and ice. And we're not even at the bad point.

Anyway, enough about the most depressing weather ever, let's talk about how I've prevailed on the knitting front.

I emailed back and forth 16 times with the Brooklyn Tweed tech support (Christine). In case you're interested, she doesn't knit every BT pattern - though she can help you with all of them. She's simply bizarrely mathtastic. In the course of our discussions, and since I am the one who made the teensy error to take me completely out of phase, I determined some things (feel free to skip this if you're not intending to make this sweater... It's technical.):

• Cartridge stitch is a 4 stitch + 1 stitch repeat wherein two stockinette columns separate three stitches that are done in a kind of moss pattern. Generally that pattern is KKKP etc. on the right side and KKPK etc. on the wrong side.To complicate things, though the pattern isn't tricky unless you fuck it up, the columns of stockinette are in a different spot on the right side of the fabric, than on the wrong side of the fabric. When it goes wrong, the errors are SO visible it's ridiculous. Alas, it's hard to see until you're 2 rows into the wrongness. 

• Actually, now that I've spent hours deconstructing the stitch pattern, I can tell you that the wrong side will always advise you if the right side is correct. And the right side will do the same for the wrong side. But it takes a while to figure out what's going on.

• Think of each stitch in parallel with the one below. The first stitch is in rib (with the one below), the second in garter (with the one below), the third in rib and the fourth in garter.  Consider also, by way of ensuring that you have things right, that every rib column produces that long line of stockinette either on the right side or on the wrong side. The columns are always separated by one stitch of garter.

• In order to figure out where I was - so that I could move forward - this advice, from Christine, was critical: You have a center knit column on both the wrong and right sides - this knit column is always the center stitch of the knit 3 in the pattern. On either side of the knit 3 is a purl 1. So when you come to work a row after increasing, if you focus on the knit column and figure that is the 2nd stitch of a knit 3, you can work backwards from there.

What you need to understand is that I made an error, early on in the process, that isn't very visible but has had implications for the stitch pattern.

You can actually see it in this photo (and I'm only disclosing this for science):

Near the heart of stockinette stitch (at the centre of the piece), on the left side of the photo, two columns went out of phase. I knew something was up (because, after this point, in order to get it to work, I had to revisit cartridge stitch every row and base it on the mirror image of what I had done on the other side - aka working from the centre point outwards), but I didn't realize what had happened until I was hours on the other side of the error. And seriously, I don't think you would have noticed it if I hadn't pointed it out because I didn't notice it and I'm a freak about these things!

But let's get back to the place where the problem really clarified itself - at the point where that flat piece, above, gets bigger and wider and the side bits of cartridge stitch fold over into sleeves...

First I had to decide on my course of action: I could unknit those 2 set up rows (350ish stitches), which are the hardest ones to tink because there's also set-up to reverse engineer. I could scrap the whole thing (which was my first choice, but seemed rash). I could scrap it and start again (this was at the bottom of the options, popularity-wise). Or - and this I came up with at the last minute - I could knit the next row (the one after the 2 set up rows) as my newly set-up sleeves were error free, and then with each of the 71 stitches on the back section of the sweater (where the problem was), I could undo the two stitches below the one I was working, to aright the cartridge stitch.

Yeah, I'd have to rework 213 stitches, but I didn't have to take the whole thing back to the studs.

So that's what I did. But easier said than done.

I had to make a chart showing what cartridge stitch should be on my back panel:

Don't try to detangle it, it's a working document - which is to say, if you didn't make it, you likely won't understand what it means. I will tell you that the first row of the set up, which the pattern refers to as the "Pick up for Fronts" row is the bottom row on my chart and one reads it from right to left. The second row, the one the pattern calls the Set Up row (in the middle) is read from left to right (as it's a wrong side row). The top row, again read from right to left, is the one I had to work as I went. I mean, that's the row I was on. As I worked each stitch in the top row, I undid the two stitches below (if required) to aright the pattern.

But it wasn't that easy. This only dealt with the back portion. I also had sleeves at this point, being past the set up...

Those I charted differently, because I've made no errors in that part of the pattern:

What happens here, is that you read from right to left, bottom to top, stopping in the middle to shift to the pattern chart for the back body when you get to that spot. (The blue highlighting is the reminder to do this).

Oh, but it wasn't that easy either.

Cuz row 3 is a "chevron increase row". This means, I also had to work increases in the stitches bordered by the sleeves and the back - the underarm gusset which is worked simultaneously.

That's why I wrote myself an order of operations for just row 3:

And now, perhaps you can understand why my brain hurts.

Mind you, I think the problem's fixed:

Now here's hoping I don't make another mistake...

Thoughts or feelings?

Support

OK peeps. When Brooklyn Tweed rates a pattern as difficult, take it under advisement. Especially when all of the reviews you read corroborate this perspective. Don't assume that, cuz a pattern looks simple it is simple. (Not that I did, but really, it looks so simple!)

I'm in the dark hole of this knitting process,trying to establish the set up row where the yoke turns into the fronts, sleeve place holders, underarms, and back. Last night was 2 hours of work on this one freakin' row, followed by an emotional breakdown, followed by ripping back without considering that tinking (knitting backwards) was the right course, followed by the horror of discovering two strings of yarn hanging on both sides of the back panel (the only part currently on the needles) - one attached to the skein, the other to the back panel. The only way to "start over" is to put the sleeve stitches (now on waste yarn) back on the needles and then knit backwards some more. Instead, I'm inclined to work with the finite length of yarn I've got in front of the back panel (it was enough to pick up and knit a bunch of stitches the first time around) and then keep going from there. But it's going to be a tense ride.*

There is, so far, nothing relaxing about making this garment. I mean, it would seem that it's very purpose is to keep one on one's toes.

And yet, it's not a bad pattern. It's just freakin' detailed. So detailed that most everyone fucks up somewhere and has to either fix it on the fly or rip back. I mean, it's never taken me so long to knit 50 odd rows (the yoke portion).

Apparently, it gets easier after this set up row which is good because I'm entirely distracted by the thought of it. That unfinished row is currently tormenting me.

At any rate, this post is not just to bitch about knitting trauma, but to tell you the most heartwarming story. At 10 pm, I sent a flurry of emails to tech support at Brooklyn Tweed, imagining I'd get feedback the next morning. (My questions were about the pattern instructions - not my stupid method of ripping back which is, natch, in no way BT's concern...) In actual fact, I got feedback in 5 minutes. Yeah - 5 minutes. I was so shocked I had to know if I'd simply caught a staffer late at the office, or if this is one of the Brooklyn Tweed value-adds. Apparently, it's the latter.

So, in addition to having the hippest website, the coolest designers, the best-documented patterns, the wooliest yarn and the most covetous look books, BT gives you perfect customer service.

Really, support this brand. We need more like them.

*It doesn't help that I fucked up the cartridge rib at a certain point (at the outer edge on one side - it's not that I worked the pattern incorrectly, but that I started it one stitch early for a while). So now, my every row requires a visual confirmation that I'm in pattern. I just can't rely on the cartridge pattern outlined the instructions. Trust me, I considered ripping back to the problem point, but I the likelihood is that something else would have gone wrong the next time. Like I said, it's like jumping from one plank (over a pit) to another.

When Things Don't Go As Planned...

As relatively craft-successful as the previous two weekends have been, this weekend was rather unproductive. My goals were lofty: another Issy top, Claudia pants made with stretch Bengaline, knitting past the yoke of the Svalbard cardigan...

How did that go?

The Knitting:

Well, here's my latest knitting on the needles:

Most of the yoke of the Svalbard cardigan by Bristol Ivy - I know the centre panel looks odd. It's unblocked and the "V" of increases isn't showing well. I swear, in real life, it looks normal (if a bit uneven as it hasn't been blocked)...

Since Friday I have worked precisely one row and rolled 3 balls of yarn. Note to reader: That ain't gonna get me to the end. I do have a post on this project in the works. The Svalbard is something I was compelled to cast on because it's like a scarf with sleeves - an elegant one. I just want to be warm right now, not constrained - and I don't feel like mathy-fitting my ass off.

Of course, this is a dicey garment from the vantage point of my shape. But I'm living on the edge and I have a couple of work arounds.

In brief: This pattern is polarizing (just read the Ravelry projects pages). It's very simple-looking but very complex to establish, as one knits the entire sweater from the top down. It's rated 4/5 starts in difficulty (by the pattern designer) for a good reason. Everyone seems to have to rip back two or three times before establishing a groove because it's fucking complicated. Mind you the end result is refined. And once you figure out how it works, it's SO smart - like solving the problems of the universe on two needles. This sweater is much more challenging than the Blanche Too, but so much better envisioned. Some people suggest that the pattern should be more streamlined (it's 12 pages or so - standard issue for Brooklyn Tweed designs) but honestly, I don't think it's reasonable to expect that it could be. To have access to the pattern in multi-sizes, one must switch from section to section for info. What's so good about the instructions is that they explain how to do this. Sure, it's tricky, but it's not a mystery and it's beautifully thought out.

The Sewing:

Now I did end up sewing two things - but one went straight in the bin and the other is just meh (who knows if I'll ever wear it).

The thing that went in the bin: Another version of the Issy Top made in blue rayon jersey. Here's the thing - I really struggle with the construction of the neck unit on this top - so that was a nightmare. Furthermore, I over-estimated my required centre-back narrowing alteration. I believe, in this pattern, I need 2 small darts on the neckline, not one large one, and a smaller decrease in neck-width than originally I estimated, so I diminished the impact by half - one inch of narrowing vs. 2 inches. Finally, there was a flaw in my rayon fabric - right in the middle of the piece. I didn't notice it when I checked it on receipt, but it was deceptively hard to see - more like a serious run than a tear. I don't know if my washing somehow might have caused this or if it arrived this way. I worked around it but the flaw, coupled with only a yard of fabric (the Issy really does need a yard and a half of 60 for the size 10), meant I had to cut a sleeve against grain and to shorten everything. It was suboptimal.

I am bummed to have trashed a yard of fabric and a day, but I did learn a few things that should help me on my next go round.

The Meh Thing: The other garment I sewed this weekend was a second pair of the Claudia pants. I can't even be bothered to photo them - though I will soon, if only to show you Bengaline (not that you can really see how it feels in a picture).

I don't like Bengaline - and I'm working with the "good" kind - the rayon blend (not the poly blend). I can only imagine how hideous the poly stuff must feel. There's so much fucking stretch that I can pull the pants off without opening the zip. My highly modified (for me) Claudia pants pattern is suited to fabric having a max of 20 per cent stretch and probably 10 per cent stretch factor would be better.

The only things I can imagine wearing in Bengaline are panels in a dress (for stretch and contrast), a tailored jacket (that fits with the ease of a cardigan) or VERY close fitted pants. Seriously, you want at least 2 inches of true negative ease, maybe more. I'll try my other yard with the Elle's or "denim" leggings, but I don't suppose I'm going to be a convert.

The fabric feels untenably fake. It's a bit sheeny - equally on both sides, IMO, so I couldn't figure which was which. I have no idea if the lighter colours are less or more sheeny but  that would make a difference going forward. (I want matte finish.) Bengaline seems never to iron completely. I mean, it presses a nice seam, but it's almost like you iron-in the wrinkles as you go. It didn't take my fusible interfacing well so there's a bit of weird overstretch bubbliness on the underside of the facing (not a deal breaker but ugly).

It doesn't so much drape, as stretch and contract, so a garment with too-loose fit is both wasted, from a fall of fabric perspective, and bulky-seeming.

Furthermore, and I've known this for a long time, though it really hit home today: I don't like black pants. I think they're the dullest, most ubiquitous thing ever. They just don't pop (like blue denim, my favorite fabric in the world). They're designed, 9 out of 10 times, to fade into the background. Why would I sew something that is so dull-looking no one will notice? I don't like black RTW pants any more than the hand-made kind. Sure, occasionally, one may observe someone wearing a beautiful pair in a beautiful suiting fabric (generally with a matching jacket) but, for goodness sake, if you're going to make black pants, they'd better be in fabulous textile and the fit's gotta rock.

Whatevs. Live and learn. This weekend is gone. Let's move forward...

So what's next this week, craft-wise?

• Gotta buy some more rayon jersey - yeah, I only have one-yard pieces?! - to sew my next iteration of the Claudia top. I'm making this as part of the Sew Sexy Sew Along that Clio and Sown Brooklyn are hosting. Sure, not feeling outrageously sexy right at the moment, but sexy is as sexy does - right?

• Gotta find some pants fabric to make a second pair of the Claudia pants (also for the Sew Sexy Sew Along) - I'm doing an outfit peeps! Note: It will not be black. But man, how much more denim can I wear??

• Gotta get past the yoke of the Svalbard and move onto whatever comes next. I think it's the front panels but honestly, I don't even know. I just know it gets less complicated as you go, which is my kind of pattern!

Today's questions: What do you think of the Svalbard cardigan? How do you feel about Bengaline, if you've tried it? Are the lighter shades shinier or matte-r? What other pants fabrics are there in the world, besides denim and Bengaline, to make stretch woven pants? I'm thinking 10-20 percent stretch. I'm open to different colours or patterns. Let's talk!