Knotty and Nice

I'm sitting in my living room, practically shivering, imagining a world in which the entire first floor of my house will be equally heated (and entirely warm). Admittedly, I just drank some almond milk straight from the fridge and I'm not wearing a double layer - unless a large scarf and shearling slippers count. But man, I can almost feel excited by the prospect of the reno when the temp drops to minus 8. I'm really hoping (understatement) that stable indoor temps will help keep pain (which doesn't like cold or wet) in check during the winter months.

But this post is not about that. This post is about knitting - and unknitting - a subset of the craft that every knitter should get with to some extent, IMO, if perhaps not to this extent:

The Jan Sweater by Susan Crawford

This sweater, the second thing I ever knit, was suboptimal from the start. It's how I learned yarn-overs (a lacework stitch), something I've really never loved, even if I've grudgingly accepted them. The fit was all wrong - too big everywhere, too wide in the boat-neck (I actually had to seam it up after the fact), too see-through (given colour, yarn-weight and the holes). I didn't enjoy the pattern. Susan Crawford patterns, I have learned, are not to my liking. The instructions are weak (and slim, in keeping with the vintage thing) but more than slim they're weak.

Destined to be something much better than the sweater ever was~

I used Excelana, also by Susan Crawford, yarn which I wouldn't recommend. Firstly, I believe you have to buy it online - and it's just not that exciting. Secondly, there were SO many knots (like, regular knots) holding every skein of this yarn together, that those myriad balls you see above are as much because I had to snip the yarn every 50 yards, as because I didn't snip my side seams cleanly. There are only a few comments on this yarn in Ravelry and one of them indicates that this hasn't  happened only to me. I can forgive a few knots (like 2) in my artisanal yarn, but don't make my life a misery. Also, what does it say when you can't keep your yarn in one piece as you spin it?? Finally, it's not expensive (though it's not cheap for those who have to ship it and pay the exchange), and it doesn't feel high-end. It's got a somewhat generic feel - even as I imagine it is EXACTLY like what affordable yarn in wartime England would have been like.

I've been thinking more and more about this whole "rip back a sweater" thing and I've put my money where my mouth is. To wit, in the last year I frogged a sweater 3/4-finished. I ripped back 3/4 of this to improve the bust fit (so it's still not done) and now, I've gone whole hog and undone a whole finished garment.

Not only am I reminded of my newbie-knitting parents sheer horror at the thought of losing a stitch of work (till you get what's happening, it can be so awful not knowing how to fix things), but it's a pretty awesome metaphor. I mean, it's hard to deconstruct something back to its component parts, even if you're very laissez-faire. When you mess up a cooking project, you get to throw it out and start again. Like, with new material. There's something so in-your-face about the way yarn comes undone. About how it teaches you the value of your work, which is to say, it's only as good as what you've learned and what you'll do next. People, there is liberty in this activity. But man, it's hard.

It's messy, it's scary (What if you snip the yarn accidentally? Note: You probably will.), It's a reminder of the sometimes endless-seeming journey you've traveled (you remember all the stand-out bits, bad or good). It's a perfect visual representation of disintegration. It's a mega recontribution to your stash which, let's just say, may be adequately robust already.

By ripping back a sweater (perhaps a nice cashmere one from a thrift shop) you get to see your work in reverse - which is actually illuminating. Doing this will make you a better knitter. And I don't mean in a spiritual way. It'll provide an opp to see how things come apart so that you can be better at putting them back together. It'll also teach you about how much you've learned since last you touched that garment you're, ahem, yarn-retrieving.  (Let's give it a euphemism, shall we?)

I've decided, in future, if I'm at all on the fence about a garment, I will rip it back after blocking (or sooner). It will not torment me in my closet. Hopefully I like the yarn (so that I'll want to knit with it again) but, if not, I'll give away the yarn. I also intend to some of reclaim some of my other already-closet-hogging, hand knit sweaters. Gotta admit, if I never want to work with a particular yarn again, chances are that I'm not going to rip that one back soon - cuz it's a lot of work. Like a couple of hours to do it well (and depending on the amount of yarn to rewind).

I always thought the hardest part about the unknitting process would be contextualizing the loss of time - and feeling inundated by yarn I've already experienced. Now I realize that the yarn is different every time I use it. It molds (literally) to the thing I am creating. And, inasmuch as I am its machinery, it is as prone to nuance as I.

Knitting brings it all up, as every knitter knows. It's as much an act of meditation - of grace - as prayer or therapy. I struggle with the ends of my yarn because, in order to use every yard, I must find a way to use every freakin' yard. Yes, this is an affect of my OCD, but it tells me about myself. I don't like to rip back finished work (or do I?) because it's like loss or waste. I can't bear reknitting with the yarn because it denies the satisfaction of acquisition.

But here's what I didn't know and what has made all the difference: Unknitting is its own kind of craft! Have a glass of wine. Watch a movie. Do a good job of it (I did not, particularly, so I lost about 30 g of yarn due to short lengths). Start with a garment made up in a yarn you care little about. Do NOT snip your main fabric when you go after the seams. Wind the yarn in to your fave kind of ball. Be considered. Note: I don't intend to soak the kinks out of my yarn, at least not at this point. I'll do what a Ravelry friend suggested: swatch and block that swatch for a long time before leaving it to dry.

Unknitting is just as miraculous as knitting and its made from the same component parts. You get to touch yarn. And you get to start again. Maybe that next thing you make will be everything that the last thing was not. How sad would it be not to have a go at that experience?

Honestly, if you can bring yourself to do it, take some unloved knitted thing apart this week - and tell me about it. It will be nothing like you expect, I promise.

Sweater Girl

Imagine my dismay that these photos, perfect on the camera and once downloaded, seem so grainy and weird on the blog. I have no idea what's going on...

Nonetheless, they're photos of me wearing - not one - but 2 of my handmade items! I think that's a record.

I should mention it's about 5000 degrees Celsius today, so wearing a wool sweater outside, albeit one with short sleeves and holes?!, was sheer torture. The things I do for my art...

The skirt is the one I sewed for my sister - the one that didn't work on her. My gain, in retrospect. It's a versatile wardrobe piece.

This shot captures the trademarked WendyB pose - legs crossed and hands on hips. I've been meaning to do it forever...

The glare was outrageous. Practically every shot without the sunglasses shows me squinting, or with my eyes closed!

The sweater is, of course, the Jan, a vintage splendor which will soon be available in A Stitch in Time: Volume 2.

My final thoughts on the garment are these:

• Tits ahoy! It's a beautiful design, but not one that's perfectly suited to my shape. It really emphasizes my short waist and blouses at just the area I try to nip in, to highlight my hourglass silhouette. The boatneck is also a challenge given the width of my shoulders combined with a large chest. I knew this going in and I was inspired to knit the sweater nonetheless.

• Um, it's a short sleeved sweater with holes. Not the most practical design. But you can't see a nude bra underneath, for what it's worth.

• It fits large, especially in the shoulders. I actually had to take in the boatneck by 2.5 inches on each side. At first, it just fell off my shoulders. Admittedly, mine are narrow.

• I have long arms and I usually avoid sleeves that end right at the bust height, or it simply emphasizes the width and depth of the chest zone. As such, I lengthened the sleeves by 1 inch on each side. In retrospect, adding another .5 - 1 inch would have been better, but this length is fine.

• Talk about a painful learning experience. I came close to giving up, which is not something I do. But I'm so grateful for all the help I received from you, my wonderful knitting friends, and for everyone's ongoing support. It made all the difference.

• I used 5 skeins of wool exactly - the amount the pattern instructed. Seriously, I didn't have more than one 6 inch string at the end. Very satisfying. Of course, I bought an extra skein and now I have no idea what to do with it.
  

• It's well-knit, if I do say so myself. I am unreservedly proud of how it looks, inside and out. Which means, 2 for 2, I have been pleased with my knitting results. On balance, I am much happier with my knitting than my sewing. I wonder if that's because I'm delusional, knitting is easier or if I actually have more natural aptitude for it than sewing.

So, whatcha think?? PS: Unless you love it, lie. :-)

Block Party

In case you think I've been wasting my time on genealogy (peeps, it's my new obsession), I have finished the pieces of the Jan Sweater, which I immersion wet blocked this evening.

See?

These are the washed pieces of wool, pinned out to dry in shape. Note: Wet wool smells hideous.


I know these photos aren't much to look at but I sense that the pieces are going to be very soft and lovely when they dry.

While blocking the wet pieces, I really did notice differences in tension between each side (front and back) and each sleeve but I think, once blocked, the differences will not be visible in the finished product.

And I'm really glad, at least on paper, that I didn't make the medium. These pieces are larger than the dimensions predicted on the schematic. I know that wet wool really stretches out (and then seems to dry just fine) but the difference between the finished dimensions and the measurements of my finished wet pieces is significant in all directions. The reason I didn't pin more was because I didn't want to increase surface area unnecessarily.

Tomorrow I begin the sew up. Last time I assumed that would be the easy part - and it was a real trial. Maybe I've learned a bit from that? It will be less sewing of this garment than of the kimono wrap, because there aren't facings to deal with, the sleeves are shorter, and there are fewer pieces. Still, can't get too cocky... I'm not exactly an expert.

Oooh Pretty!

One side of the Jan sweater is complete:



While I recognize the gratuitousness of 3 shots to show the same thing, cut me some slack, cuz man, this has been a labour of love. An insanely frustrating, almost-crushing-at-times, labour of love. Seriously, peeps, I'm amazed the yarn could manage as many rip backs and re-knits as I put it through.

I have learned so many things in this process so far:

• How to rib (on mega tiny needles)
• How to yarn over and then knit 2 together
• Lacework repeats
• Decreasing stitches "in pattern"
• Binding off in rib

Perhaps the best lesson of all happened earlier this week when I worked with an expert at my LYS who explained to me exactly how I was going to have to intuit the lace work as I decreased "in pattern". As you can imagine, once one starts removing stitches, slavish devotion to the pattern and the math involved re: number of repeats no longer applies. You can only imagine how freaked I was when I figured out my math was useless - that I would have to understand what to do next by considering what had come before. (People, who says things unironically like, "I freaked out to learn the math was useless"?!?!?)

I don't mean to overstate the case, but this has been practically life changing. It means I won't need to check off every single stitch on every lace work row when I do the next side. I'll be able to observe if what I've done is correct because now I see how the individual stitches impact the look of the garment. It's not some great mystery anymore. Well, it's vaguely less of a mystery.

Lessons

I'm not going to try to pull the wool over your eyes (ha!): I made the most colossally stupid mistake this weekend. I mistook cm for inches. I know, I know, how on earth I could have imagined that the sweater front from ribbing to underarm should have been 30.5 INCHES is beyond me. My brain is addled by stitches, peeps.

At any rate, I basically knitted the front of my sweater twice before I realized I'd have to rip back 25 cm. Lord, that's a lot of knitting. Like, um, 10 hours - not including time to fix mistakes along the way.

And then there's the matter that my lifelines only go back about 20 rows. So I had to try to figure out how to insert one, 25 cm back, in lacework. What a freakin' nightmare.

It took me an hour to figure out that the lifelines (I did 2) had failed. At which point I was ready to throw myself off a bridge. For real.

So, I tried the only thing left in my arsenal. I went to my LYS (local yarn store) where I was thrilled to find my creative knitting expert of yore (the one who assisted me in getting the goods required for my last sweater. You remember, the one that worked).

She told me that a lifeline after the fact, in lacework, is more or less useless, whereupon she proceeded to rip mine out, just like that. I actually yelped from horror.

Don't worry, all was well as she proceeded to fix it in a veritable jiffy, without a cursory glance at the pattern. It was practically as soul-stirring as the scene in Apollo 13 where they figure out how to get the astronauts home.

Apparently, it was easy, but don't take it from me. My eyes had officially glazed over.

Here's today's lesson: Just cuz you think something is disastrous and irreparable doesn't mean there isn't someone who can fix it in 5 minutes flat.

If you're willing to leave your comfort zone for adventure, be willing to leave it for assistance. Share your problems to find solutions. And to take the edge off.

Coming Along...

For those of you who may be interested to know about how the Jan's going, here's a little preview:

I can't talk too much about it. Firstly, I'm sure you'll all just tune out. But I'm also trying to find my groove with it - something that it slowly starting to occur.

All I can say is that I remain in awe of its beautiful design.

Keep giving me your good knitting vibes pls! xo

The Forest and The Trees

Occasionally I'm blown away by the generosity of people - namely those as invested in social media as we all are.

I have been tremendously supported over the last week by numerous blog and Ravelry friends, amongst them:

Mardel
materfamilias
Ms. Modiste
Raven
Miss Sophie
Ingrid
Gail

You have all helped me to get from ground-zero to a finished row 8 and I can't tell you how much I want to give you all hugs and share some aperol and prosecco. (Hell, let's make it champagne.)

I finally understood what I was doing wrong after a whack of emails with Gail - who, BTW, is making the same Jan sweater right now and it's amazing. It finally occurred to me - after little clues were making themselves known - that the interweb would probably have a video to explain what I was trying to do. I mean, just cuz it's new to me, doesn't mean it isn't a popular stitch loop.

And, voila, here's what I found...



Not that this will interest anyone other than me, but I was short on stitches because I didn't realize that YO (yarn over) isn't the stitch you knit into, but the act of looping the wool in front of the stitch. So YO, K2Tog doesn't mean: loop your yarn, knit into a stitch and then knit 2 stitches together.

It means: loop your yarn and then knit 2 stitches together.

Massive difference peeps.

OMG - I was starting to lose my mind over this.

Now I just have to determine whether I need to redo row 4 because I def didn't do this for that row. Mind you, I have nice little holes evenly interspersed and the right number of stitches coming out of that row, and I SO don't want to rip this back again...

Updated: Shout Out to the (Knitting) Experts: Should It Look Like This??

OMG. The big fucking problem with not having the faintest idea of what one is doing, is that one has no idea when it's fucking up big time.

The provisos here are that I haven't blocked this, so the ribbing stitches look v. uneven. And I've got a (same yarn) lifeline in the body of the pattern - about 4 rows up (not improving the texture).



OK, here are the questions:

• If the rib was done in US 2 needles then how is it wider-seeming (i.e. looser) than the Knit/Purl lace work (done with US 3 needles!) that starts above it? (Note: It's only just getting going so you can't really tell it's going to be lacey...) Is this normal? It seems like the body should be looser than the rib.
  

• When you yarn over you add a stitch, right? So when you YO followed by a K2Tog, you're effectively stabilizing the stitch number - do I understand this correctly?

• The pattern says K6, * YO, K2Tog, K5, repeat from * to end. I did this and finished up (for 125 stitches) at the 4th of 5 knit stitches at the end of the row. Should it have ended on the 5th stitch?? I counted numerous times and even drew it out, stitch for stitch, but if YO and K2Tog cancel each other out in terms of stitch number, that's the way it goes.

• The YO extra stitch is very loose. I'm still purling into it (it's a purl row after the lacework row). That's the way it goes, right?

BTW, I couldn't figure out what was going on with those little holes (see yesterday's post) that I thought were dropped stitches. I'm starting to think they could be sloppy iterations of the additional M1 stitches I did (though I was very careful to check that they were all tight) because I couldn't have ended on the right number of stitches if one or more of them were dropped. Also, I studied the "holes" in great detail and I couldn't figure out where to fix them. They were open, but they weren't "broken links". If that's wrong, then fuck it cuz I feel compelled to move forward. I'm starting to get very frustrated. Sometimes, I believe, you have to "craft from where you're at". It's the way you get from nothing to something, even if the something is far from perfect. And you learn along the way, she says.

I know that taking up a craft and following up a first sweater with a sophomore effort of vintage lace work is a bit of a stretch (pun intended), and it's a bit rough right now.

Any feedback y'all may be able to give would be SO appreciated. Thanks, xo

Update: Apparently, row 8 may actually have an errata in it. I'm communicating on the details with the pattern publisher and will advise as soon as I have firm feedback.

Questions for Everyone...

A couple of things on the craft front:

• The Jan Sweater is proving to be much more finicky than the Kimono Wrap. Not that I'd have needed a PhD in knitting to figure that one out. As you may know, if you read my tweets, I've ripped out the ribbing twice: once due to stupid misreading and the next time due to a lost stitch that I couldn't retrieve given a) the thinness of the needles and yarn and b) the lack of a lifeline. There are 8 hours I'm not getting back. (Yes, I know it's a wonderful learning opp.) I've got to the point where I'm about to start the lacework of the body but somehow it seems like I've dropped a couple of bars (not stitches) on the row that holds the increased stitches. I don't know if I messed up the increases (I have the right number of stitches so I don't know how) or what exactly is going on. If anyone has any ideas, pls. advise. I hope it will be as "easy" as re-knitting the couple of impacted stitches in the column with a crochet hook but who can say and I'm too tired to tackle it tonight.

• I bought some great new rayon jersey on sale for 6 bucks/metre - 2 kinds (tangerine, natch, and wacky pattern with pinks and other colours) - with which to make wrap-standard Vogue 8379:
  

I'm still going through the numerous reviews on Pattern Review, but haven't seen a lot about whether this fits small through the bust. I'm trying to decide whether to go with the smaller or larger size (I'm likely a 12 but the boobs may make that tight through the chest). With a regular knit shirt, the stretch would compensate, but given that this will open at the v-neck, I want to be certain I've got the right size without going too large everywhere else. I'd prefer not to do an FBA, natch. Given the darts and the strange shape of bodice, I don't want to have to deal with shifting darts etc. if I can avoid it.

My rayon jersey has a bit more stretch than is required according to the envelope: 4 inches stretches to between 5.5" - 6" rather than to the recommended 5.25". I could also affix a discreet snap, if necessary. Any thoughts from those who have made it?

Also, I've read that the ties are too short and the waist is very short on this pattern. Can anyone short-waisted share feelings about whether they feel the waist still needs shortening or, egad, lengthening?

Pastel Perfection

Eeek! My Powdered Egg Excelana wool from the UK has arrived!

It's the very same wool used to construct the Jan Sweater:

Apparently, it's spun from the fleece of the Exmoor Blueface (whatever that is), which lives on the moors of North Devon. It's "a lustrous yarn with a soft handle, great stretch and excellent stitch definition". It's processed by one of the few worsted fibre processing and spinning plants still operation in the UK in conjunction with Susan Crawford, the genius behind the Stitch in Time series.

Talk about your awesome cross-promotion.

I haven't yet begun to knit with it, so I can only tell you how yummy it feels from on the skein. But you should know that I imported the very same wool used in the beautiful styled Jan Sweater shot, above, for about 30% less the cost of the wool I purchased in a local yarn store in TO ($45.00 vs. $65.00). I also got a discount for having pre-ordered A Stitch in Time, Volume 2, as yet to be published. You might recall that the only way to receive the Jan Sweater pattern - which isn't in either volume of A Stitch in Time - is to pre-order the second volume .

Money well spent, I say.

Update: I was mistaken (which is to say I must have misread) about the Jan pattern and its appearance within the second volume of A Stitch in Time. Apparently, it will be included. So feel free to wait for the book to come out. Or just go for it and pre-order now!

A Word About Knitting and How I Am Insane

Darlings, talk about a horrible Blogger glitch. It was kind of like the apocalypse, but it did give me time to knit without feeling like I should be commenting on all of your awesome posts! It's like that working mother conundrum, just to make an extremely ridiculous comparison: When I'm blogging I want to be knitting. When knitting, I want to be blogging. I always want to be sewing. Strangely, the urge to parent rarely interferes with any of this. :-) Don't worry. The kid makes her needs known.

But this post is about my latest crazy knitting moment.

BTW, before we move on to the new let's do a quick review of the sweater I'm still currently working on. I've finished the back and fronts and I'm now on the sleeves. I don't intend to make the belt (I don't like it), so I'm nearing the blocking stage. Of course, every stage I near fills me with equal parts excitement and trepidation. I've talked with a bunch of long-time knitters, none of whom do complete immersion wet blocking. They feel that iron steam or spray bottle blocking has the same impact. I do want to hear your opinions pls... Oh, and don't think that I haven't considered posting photos of my current work. The thing is, it's really boring to look at a swatch of stockinette stitch. I am confident the finished product will be much more impressive.

OK, onto stories of crazy knitting (or simple craziness)...

I discovered, on Ravelry, that this sweater (which doesn't appear in either volume 1 or the soon-to-be-released volume 2 of A Stitch in Time) is being offered as an enticement to pre-order volume 2:

The Jan Sweater

OMG, really who could live without obtaining this pattern?? I spoke with the knitonthenet people who advised that pre-order of the second volume is non-negotiable for access to it (even if you just bought volume 1 two weeks ago).* Since I do intend to buy the book when it is released, it wasn't too painful to shell out the $53.00 now. And the Jan pattern arrived 5 seconds later!

This is my next project and I am so making it in yellow.

*FYI, there's a UK magazine called The Knitter which will apparently contain the pattern instructions in the next issue, to be released in a few days. I know I want the second volume of A Stitch in Time, so I don't feel like paying $20.00 for the mag now, only to buy the book later. Esp. since the Jan pattern is mine either way. Having said that, you might want to go from the mag.