Lingerie Shop Along: The End.

Guess it’s time to close the loop on the online lingerie purchase disaster of 2012. It doesn’t end well, but I’m officially done. 

The Fantasie Smoothing Balconette bra arrived – it’s the right model – but the size is off. Based on the horrifying bigness of the full-cup version (see post linked to in the para above), I opted to order the balconette version (purchased many times in the past) one size smaller in the cup, and one size smaller in the band, than that which I usually wear.

 

Though that's worked before, this one is too small, if just barely. What I mean is that it fits in the cup but the back is leaning towards too tight and it pushes the flesh up under my arms and at the side of the bra. To qualify – the underwire fits and the cups fit, there’s just not quite enough corollary fabric at the side band. It will probably stretch and be just fine. Or maybe it won't. I don't care.

 

I’d cry from frustration if this weren’t sort of funny.

 

I’m not returning it. I’ve already spent twice the amount the bra cost on shipping alone (6 returns?!). At least now I know for sure what size to order in this bra should that occasion ever recur. Note to self: Write it the fuck down. Along with the model number (vis a vis this wise comment).

 

I’m changing gears. Next time I order bras – when discretionary spending is back on the table - it will be to test for a new basic. (Pls. recall that I intend to write about the process, it just hasn’t fully come together.)

Point is, I had a hideous online shopping experience but I'm happy to move on. I mean, it's the only one that's ever fit that description. I won't let it deter me in the future.

Mending My Ways

Circumstantial convergence really is the strangest thing. To wit:
 

Last night I watched this fascinating TV program on TVO which profiles the real experiences of some modern people who live as if in wartime (WW2), farming in the English countryside, conserving to protect their resources and to promote their country’s ability to beat the Nazis. (Note: This is the third in a series, the other 2 timeframes covered were Victorian and Edwardian – which is all a bit gaslight and misery for me.)
 

Then this morning, when I got to work, a colleague pointed out that my (expensive) super-slender, machine knit Ca Va de Soi cardigan had some little holes. Perhaps they're the result of moths – we don’t have a big moth problem and I do use cedar in my sweater drawers, but occasionally these holes appear. (Sidebar: These holes appear less and less now that I’ve stopped going to the drycleaners. Hand washing all sweaters of all yarns in Soak with a few drops of lavender or eucalyptus essential oil in is a fantastic way to a) actually clean b) reduce chemical exposure and c) protect from bugs all one’s much loved knits.)
 

You’ll recall, on the weekend, I swore never to darn anything – which seemed a bit brutish to me, even as I wrote (and meant) it. I’ve lingered over the claim ever since.

Today I found this (fab and very inexpensive) pdf for download on Etsy. And this darning egg. And this thread.
 

Here are a couple of links that show you how to darn knitwear and other garments, I found online in 30 seconds:

Make Do and Mend: Darning 

Darning Tutorial

So, it seems, I take it back. (Man, I’ve been wishy-washy lately.) I’m going to darn things (maybe even homemade socks?!?!) rather than taking them up to the seamstress or letting them languish.

It occurs to me that the biggest limiters of all activity are lack of knowledge and the proper tools. Why have I threatened never to darn a hole or build a telescope or reupholster a couch? Sure, there’s a part of me that hasn’t the time or interest. But there’s a much larger part that hasn’t the knowledge. I wear sweaters every day of all gauges and many textiles. Why the hell can’t I spend a few minutes – which is really all it will take once I know the method and have all of the materials ready and waiting at my access – to protect them for future generations. Isn’t this ground zero for environmentalism (about which I am hardly extreme, just ask the people who know me).

I wonder if, were we find ourselves (horrifically) in another wartime scenario, could we manage with the grace and capability that so many of the English did during the second world war? Sure, there was much less industrialism at that time – so a large part of the general population had actual subsistence skills. But that aside, citizens attended government-organized classes about the conservation techniques they’d be required to know and apply. They learned so they’d have the means to undertake risk and to function in circumstances we likely cannot imagine. An entire country came together in, perhaps, the most organized, large-scale show of community that ever there was, and it thrived. Would we?

Five years ago I had never heard the term Make Do and Mend. (I know! I lived in post-war England and I studied history in high school yet I’d never actually heard it said. Really, I am a child of the 80s.) When I started reading blogs, particularly the craft ones, the culture of self-sufficiency amazed and, truthfully, amused me. How crazy, I thought, that people make stuff and then they fix it. To add to this rich mix, my husband has always been profoundly "handy" (his people are engineers) and he’s a first-wave environmentalist of the most irritating order. As a result, I’ve had 20 years to acclimate to a philosophy that seems increasingly second nature: How can I respect and protect what I have because it’s worth having?
 

I guess I can learn to darn a freakin’ pair of socks.

Thoughts?

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!

It's All Temporary

I didn't realize that my parents spend all summer indoctrinating my daughter about the evils of tattoos (we call them tattoons here cuz that's what a little kid who lives here used to say). Apparently, every car trip was laden with parables about how they look bad when you're 80 and they prevent you from getting a good job. (Given that the parents are free-spirited hippie-types, I'm kind of surprised (but not).)

What's ironic about this is that, totally in the dark about those conversations, I recently bought M these:

WhitneyJane Temporary Tattoos

C'mon, who doesn't love woodland creatures??

Note to my parents: You've somehow managed to make M more determined to get a tattoo than ever she was before. Let's call these, in your language, "damage control".

Note to M: Wait till you're 25 and you have your tastes figured out. Tattoos aren't for the young and capricious. And then consider a woodland creature.

Socked In

So, I'm sick with a cold and I'm making a sock. Exciting times here, really.

Actually, it's frustrated times. Frustration is the watchword of the last few days. Having difficulty sleeping, last night I was amazed to wake from a dream that was entirely about anger. I can't remember the substance of this dream, but OMG, I was out-of-control, steerage-class-plane-passenger-during-a-4-hr-runway-delay, deliriously angry. Have you ever woken from a dream enraged?? Till last night, I don't suppose I have.

I can't say if it's this anxiety-provoking bug*, which has effectively torched my holiday enriched my opportunity to rest... I don't know if it's the sock (a fast-tracked 2013 goal vis a vis this challenge**), which has managed to fuck up in just about more ways than any other project I've ever undertaken... I mean, it's snowy outside. I should just be grateful to have an excuse to sit on my ass and knit a sock.

Allow me to tell it like it is:

Here's a tiny little piece of the sock:

A Nice Ribbed Sock by Glenna C. It may be ribbed, but it ain't nice!

• For starters, who makes a sock in royal blue?? Seriously. I only ever wear black socks. The shop had this same, very nice (if somewhat sheeny) merino-silk blend in black. Why didn't I just make a black sock? That, I might get some use from! The yarn has a lot of spring and strength (imparted by the silk). You know I ordinarily don't like silk yarn in any amount, but I was looking for strength.

• I will never darn a sock. So how is it that I'm making a thing that's gonna need to be darned, or discarded, in some period of time (and probably sooner rather than later the way we walk around here)?? My choices will be, presuming I don't just burn these things on completion, a) wearing and breaking them (and wastefully throwing them out, which might be hard to do) or b) never wearing them and keeping them in a drawer doing nothing (also hard to do and wasteful). Socks, they really give you all the options.

• Those of you debating whether to knit socks or a sweater: Please be aware that you can knit a pair of simple socks in about half the time it will take you to knit a simple sweater. I don't know about you, but I'll go with the sweater - which people will actually SEE when I put it on. And which won't rip in the toe. Note: I've never had a pair of socks that didn't eventually die in this way, so I'm sensitive. I have no actual indication that my hand knit socks will go at the toe. Specifically if I don't use them.

• And a tiny bit about specifics: Magic loop may not be the best way to make all socks, especially if your needles are a US 0 (2mm). Admittedly, I'm a total newbie with this degree of magic loop - small-diameter knitting though, I've done quite a lot of in the past. However, I've never managed to pull out half the needle, exposing mini, microscopic live stitches (taking forever to replace on the needle and then leaving an unsightly tension-change ridge) quite so many times or in so many ways. 

• A propos of tension-change ridges, I used such a crappy needle (one a new LYS sells and which I'll never purchase again!) that it's actually snapped while I was in the middle of a row! I was not knitting hard, peeps! The needle, so sharp at the point that I couldn't actually push on it without it hurting, routinely split the rather pliant yarn. How many badnesses can I expect to block out? Really. Cuz now I'm using a slightly larger needle to complete the project (2.25 mm). On the plus side, the new needle (also that terrible brand) seems to be handling things much more naturally and without any tension differentiation. I did think to myself, when I swatched, that the 2.25mm felt better than the 2mm. I guess I should have listened to my gut.

• The sock leg is going to be too big, I'm pretty sure, esp. after a wearing. I should have cut an inch out of the pattern (8 stitches) but I really didn't know how much negative ease a sock requires till I started making one. (This is a reasonable learning curve experience I can't take umbrage with.)

• This pattern isn't designed to be made up with magic loop, so I had to go online and learn how to make a sock with magic loop and then tailor my pattern to the method. I suggest, if you don't want to use DPNs, and I don't, that you start with a sock pattern devised for magic loop in the first place. It'll save you some time and energy. Having said this, I'm glad I figured out the magic loop version because the idea of carrying around 4 or 5 needles to make a little circle seems ridiculous to me!

Alas, I'm going to have to finish the first sock, make up its partner and then make up another pair (or 2) until I get it right. I may not like making socks but I'm going to figure it out and become proficient. Then, when people talk about the activity, I can be as obnoxious as I want with the benefit of experience.

So, knitters, come clean. If you hate making socks, you can share your true feelings here! Tell us about it.  And, those of you who don't knit, what's the core knitting project of your imagination? What's the thing you would want to make if you did knit? Is it socks???

* I should clarify that, even though I caught this bug hard - as you'd expect given that I'm still recovering, in muted ways, from pertussis - I can breathe (if not through my nose). I'm coughing a lot more than Scott and M did when they had this thing before Xmas and, I sense, I feel worse than I would, ordinarily, with a cold (though I'm a misery when I have a cold), but this is a totally different scene. It would great to recover in the next 90 minutes by Monday, when I have to go back to work, so that at least I will know that, once again, I can get a regular virus and overcome it in a standard amount of time. Weird, when catching a cold can corroborate one's health improvement.

** I have come to realize, in my 40s, that I'm actually quite competitive in some ways and I love a test! Gillian, apparently, has my number.

Gauge the Situation: The Fingering Sweater Revealed!

Don't you feel it gives some ballast to your titles when you add an exclamation mark?

OK, don't want to drive you crazy with anticipation :-) so here's the sweater I chose:

The Princess Jumper

 And here's a little preview of the knit, so far:

Remember, it's unblocked and this yarn really needs blocking (as my gauge swatch revealed). It's not this fuzzy or uneven seeming when blocked.

A word on the yarn:

I'm using Jade Sapphire Mongolian cashmere in 2-ply. It's a light fingering and those plies like to untangle on a regular basis. This is not the easiest yarn I've ever worked with. It's as princess-y as the sweater it's making. For starters, it comes in hanks which, I've read, are not machine windable because this yarn snaps like a bitch. I can confirm that it breaks pretty easily as evidenced by the fact that, after laborious, 2-person hand winding (my husband acting like an umbrella swift and I taking on the role of the skein winder) I discovered that you can't pull this yarn from the centre of the ball. Instead, I'm working from the outside, which is kind of a pain.

I'm a fairly loose knitter so I haven't had any problem with the yarn snapping as I knit, though it's challenging to keep my tension even given a) the small needle, b) the very light as well as thin yarn and c) a concern about being too tough on it.

I haven't got to the upper chest of the sweater front, as yet (the part with the TW4 pattern) but I hope that I'll be able to keep that nice and even as it involves knitting 3 stitches around a fourth stitch which takes a certain amount of tension on that 4th stitch. I've done it on the back placket and it seems to be working fine, though more practice will improve my outcome, I hope.

Happily there are no mid-ball yarn joins to worry about and given that one ball is 400 yards of yarn, there's very little mid-knit joining of any sort. Not that it's difficult with this yarn.

Elizabeth Zimmerman said that, if you want to save money knitting, you should knit in fingering-weight. For starters, it takes a long time to get through any project with such skinny yarn but for another thing, fingering weighs less than just about anything else. It's cost-effective. Of course, it's not so cost-effective when you spend $150.00 on pure cashmere (on 40 per cent off sale?!) but Cascade makes a yarn called Heritage which is part merino and part silk which is very affordable and quite lovely. Springy and tight, not too drapey from what I can tell. You could make this sweater for 40 bucks using that yarn, at full price!

I have wanted to use pure cashmere since the day I started knitting, and I only just feel ready for the challenge. Thing is, I'm not sure if I love it. Really, I can't say as yet. I might like something less plied or more robust a bit better than this 2-ply stuff. And, given that it's kettle-dyed, I'm knitting small variations of grey throughout the fabric. That's not really my thing, a variation on variegated, but I'm trying to see it for its artistry rather than its rustic-ness.

It depends on how this thing hangs when it's all put together - and it's a 4-piece seamed knit so it's going to be a while before I know.

I do believe that the delicate yarn is strengthened by the knitting, so I'm not concerned about wearing it.

My rationale for knitting the Princess Jumper:

I've been considering which sweater to use the cashmere on since the summer (when I bought the yarn online). I do LOVE vintage sweaters, especially those re-interpreted by Susan Crawford. My Jan Sweater, the second thing I ever knit, was a Susan Crawford pattern and I love it, if not on me. Note: Since I made the Jan I've learned a lot of things about knitting and sizing and fitting and fitting with knits etc. So I don't recommend the Jan for someone short-waisted and busty. But it's just a gorgeous design...

Anyway, while it didn't excite me, on first glance, as much as some of Susan's other patterns, the Princess Jumper kept coming up when I considered making something sleek and fitted and "pin up" but with an edge of work-place conservatism.

Though it's super-fitted, I like that the "cables" are above the fullest part of the bust. (Pam - you called it when you said I would avoid the Sun-Ray because of the boob-attention it would provoke.) And I really love how the shoulder shaping is tight. I have small, narrow shoulders and reasonably slim arms and it looks good on me when a sweater really fits in that area.

Furthermore, the photo of this sweater makes it look as if it's been knit with a yarn that has similar properties to my Jade Sapphire. In fact, I suspect it was knit using Susan Crawford's rather less-delicate yarn, Excelana, which I've tried (and love for it's vintage colours) but which isn't soft enough for my fussy tastes.

So, what do you think of my sweater choice, given my rationale? Do you like the fabric or is it too rustic for you? Have you worked with this yarn and, if so, what are your thoughts. Let's talk.

Gauge the Situation: Fingering Weight Options

The price I may pay for a truly awesome New Year's Eve (and, trust me, I'm not into this holiday on any grand scale) is the crappy cold that's so going around. Don't pity me. I went in with open eyes. I drank that booze and ate that sugar and fat and flour and dairy and côte de boeuf. OMG, the côte de boeuf... I danced around like a banshee. I yelled dirty jokes across the room. I stayed up late. I stayed out. I walked home in the cold. (And who knows, I may stave if off with a couple of days of doing nothing, my new and only activity till the weekend. If nothing else, it would be novel to have a common bug, for a change :-)) Just please don't tell my mother.

There's an alchemy in long-standing friendship, a peaceful, playful camaraderie. The best thing about aging, I suppose, (in addition to the improvement of one's intelligence and skills for all of the extra time to learn) is the opportunity to know the people you've loved for that much longer.

At any rate, blogging is one of those things I can happily accomplish while sitting on my ass.

Let's get back to the Gauge the Situation series. You know, that endless trail of posts wherein I talk about the outcomes of making 4 sweaters of different weights (fingering, sport, DK and worsted) and discuss the merits and detractors of each.

Thing is, I can't say no to any sweaters so I've actually knit 3 others that weren't in the queue. And a couple of scarves. What? There's no deadline!

But now we're back to it - to the last of the 4 weights and the slimmest - fingering. I really want to ask you for your impressions of the options which are to follow but I fear it would be disingenuous because, truthfully, I'm almost half way through the fingering sweater I long ago decided to make. Of course, your feedback is incredibly appreciated and useful on so many levels, but I have a bunch of rationales for the one I chose.

Instead, perhaps you'd indulge me by guessing which one of the following you think I chose:

Obsidian by Lisa Mutch

Raiun by Kirsten Johnstone

And then my (apparent) pictorial-ode to vintage-knitting queen Susan Crawford:

Princess Twinset Jumper

Sun-Ray Ribbing

Knitters Delight

 And here's the yarn I'm using (lots more on this to follow):

Jade Sapphire Mongolian Cashmere (100%)

I'd love it for you to tell us which one you'd make or have made or which you think I should have chosen! I'll let you know if you called it right tomorrow! :-)