So yes, as usual, I have to apologise for my absence! Hopefully you'll think the wait was worth it however, because I have such exciting news!
Since January my friend Lydia and I have been working on something really special. It's a new quarterly knitting publication called pom pom! Here's a draft of our first-ever cover:
It's a quite small-scale, homegrown little mag at the moment, but it's full of lovely, hand-picked goodies that we hope knitters will love! We're also multi-craftual, so there will be a little bit of everything, from embroidery, to articles, to a cocktail recipe!
One of my favourite things when teaching a knitting class is to talk about the cultural history of knitting a little bit. It's fun to think about how us knitters have centuries of knitting background to draw from and to feel like we're carrying on a lovely, important tradition.
Over the past couple of weeks I have had some lovely knitting history surprises! First up is this lovely copy of a notice of prizes for "home made woolen articles" in 1850. It was sent to me from a very kind online friend. Isn't it lovely? It says that the prizes are to encourage "trade in home manufactured articles." Not only is it a great little piece of typography, it tells us a bit about what it may have been like to be a knitter in Victorian Britain. Queen Victoria was a bit of a knitter herself, but I have a feeling the word "industrial" wouldn't have been applied to her handiwork! Thanks, Jo, for sending this!
Also in the post last week was a parcel from Australia! While visiting Tasmania, my mother-in-law came across a gem of a fibre arts shop called Spindle Tree. It seems like a really interesting place; they are a cooperative that promotes fibre arts in Tasmania and provides studio spaces, classes, and a shop to sell Tasmanian-produced textile products and yarns. Everyone we know who has been to Tasmania loves it, so it will have to be a stop on our next trip to Australia. Also in Hobart, my mother-in-law found a this vintage knitting booklet and was kind enough to send it over to me here in London. There's no date on the booklet and we've been debating which era it may have come from... any ideas?
The illustration on the cover is fantastic, don't you think? My favourite pattern (or "recipe" as the booklet calls it!) is one for "knee caps." Funny, huh? MIL thinks women may have used these when washing floors.
There's a bit of handwriting on the front cover - I did a little research and I think it says, "B Backhouse, Kingston Beach." Turns out Kingston Beach is a coastal suburb of Hobart in Tasmania and it looks like a lovely place. I just love imagining Ms Backhouse knitting by the sea!
The last little knitting surprise I have to share with you came to me via my last post, dedicated to garter stitch. I babbled on for a while about its virtues and also about one of its most influential proponents, Elizabeth Zimmermann. I also shared a few of my favourite garter stitch patterns out there at the moment. Lucky me, the designer of the stunning Piper's Journey from Quince & Co's Scarves, etc collection was alerted to my mention of her shawl, and got in touch! As it turns out, Paula is a lovely knitter and bagpiper from Illinois, as well as host of the podcast The Knitting Pipeline, and shared with me that EZ"was,or is, the biggest influence on my knitting. I kept a correspondence with her for years when I was a young knitter. Occasionally I read one of these letters on my podcast." Needless to say, I was delighted and immediately began downloading Paula's back catalogue. I highly recommend tuning in to her show, and not just to hear these letters. I am absolutely in love with the idea of Paula sharing her correspondence with a knitting legend as with knit along with her.
So that was my exciting week of knitting history! Do let me know if you have any "vintage" knitting stories to share - they're always welcome here.
There is something about the repetition of all those knit stitches (and maybe some purls if you're knitting in the round) that's rhythmic and soothing, and the simple garter stitch is especially useful if you're into sub-titled Scandinavian television crime shows. Sometimes it's nice to switch from a complicated lace or cable pattern, get back to basics, and just enjoy every stitch.
Aside from the pleasantries of knitting garter stitch, it does produce a fantastic, wearable result when used properly.
Take this classic and oft knit design by Melissa LeBarre, the Garter Yoke Cardigan. I knit it ages ago and still love the end result. The simple structure of the cardi looks great on so many different people, as you can see from the projects on Ravelry.
There some other really stunning garter stitch projects out there; my friend Rikke loves garter stitch even more than I do and she's a real pro at choosing patterns that use it wisely.
Here's her grellow version of Stephen West's Clockwork:
And last, but not least, THE Rikke Hat, named in her honour by Sarah Young:
She's got lots of other garter-lovin' projects on her Ravelry page, so if you're still not convinced (or just crave a bit more garter squishyness) do check out her page here.
Ok, just one more... this is a delicious new pattern from the Quince & Co Scarves etc. collection. Yum!
Hate
Some knitters I know are not so keen on garter stitch. My very vintagey friend downright despises it. Is it that garter stitch has a too rustic, or on the other hand, a too modern look? Stripey garter stitch is a popular trend at the moment, but for me, not so much. In garments, you also run the risk of getting that Michelin Man look if the yarn is too bulky, or doesn't have the right drape.
So tell me what you think. Are you hot for garter? Does it make you break out in hives? Or are you wondering what all the fuss is about - it's only a stitch pattern after all! Cast your vote below...
So, yeah, I was gabbing on about the bloody joys of winter last week, extolling the virtues of cold weather, blah, blah, blahdy blah. Now I'm cold.
And to pile wind upon rainy days, I went and made a resolution to start cycling to work again. In January. (Please refrain from calling me names amounting to "fool", "idiot", or "chump" in the comments section please, I already know.) But with cycling apparently comes lovely things like "good health" and "all the money I'll be saving" by not riding the nice, warm, cosy bus. (Ok, I also know that London buses are at best only mildly gross, but still.) And now it's even snowed here in London, so I am really feeling a little bit like a crazy person, thinking I could cycle in winter.
So some investigations were made and as always, knitters never let me down. I am thinking I need to stay WARM. Type in "bike" into the ravelry pattern search and more than a few pretty awesome projects come up. For instance, I am intrigued by these bike helmet ear warmers by Amy O'Neill Houck. They're clever because they're like little cosies that slip on to the straps of your helmet without making you look like a complete dork (and it's a free pattern - extra points). Saying that, I tend to look like a dork anyway with my bike helmet on, but I'd rather look like a dork than, say, crack my skull open if I get into an accident, which, let's face it, with my cycling skills... I digress. Ears warm, non-dork, all good.
Alternatively, there's this also very nice under-the-helmet hat, which, if I didn't have ginormous hair, I would totally go for. Plus, let's face it, it's modelled by a very handsome man:
And then there's the rather lovely collection of patterns from Natalie Selles called Knitting Cycle Style. I am particularly taken with the Pennyfarthing Legwarmers and Armwarmers (pictured top). How cute are these? Would need to wear them over tights and such of course.
So, warm ears? Check. Warms arms? Check. Warm legs? Check. Now for a giant wrap to keep my neck warm. The knitting equivalent of winter's worst enemy, or kryptonite, if you will. Jared Flood to the rescue: I think either his Guernsey Wrap or the stunning Terra would do the job very nicely indeed.
I also love this pattern from last autumn's Interweave Knits by Andrea Rangel:
Now we've got all the patterns sorted, what about yarn? Cycling-inspired yarn, you say? Your wish is my command. I present to you this lovely hand-dyed blue-face leicester in the colourway "Gentleman Cyclist" by cycling dyer extraordinaire Made in Hackney.
No excuses now.
I'm a sunshine kind of girl. I have the kind of skin that benefits from sitting on a beach (I never burn, even without sunscreen), and I'd happily wear flip flops for the rest of my life if I could. I can think of nothing better than spending my time outside in the heat, until I can bear it no longer and jump into the nearest body of water.
I got a lot of that in December in Australia. It was absolute bliss - the kind of summer I dream of here in mild and generally soggy London, where it's not unusual for me to still be wearing tights in July. We drove around the Yarra Valley with the top of the car down, I drank a seemingly endless supply of gin and tonics and ate my dinners outside - without a cardigan! Having grown up in Virginia, where you can veritably see the heat in summer, all things felt right in the world again.
All things but one - it was, after all, December. It's a strange thing for a Northern Hemisphere native to experience Christmas in what actually feels like July. Christmas tress make no sense, the fact that Santa has a sleigh is bizarre (how about a jetski?) and you just don't get that comfy, cosy, mulled wine-drinking feeling. So while it was lovely to have a barbecue with the family outside on Christmas day, I have to say that's just what it felt like - a barbecue. I'd spent Christmas in Australia before, but perhaps was too wrapped up in the trip last time to really notice. This time though, I was feeling that lack. Who knew that so much I felt about Christmas was tied up in the cold weather? It turns out that keeping warm is half the fun.
So now back in London where the temperatures are firmly in the single digits, I am surprised to be relishing it. Normally I spend as little time as possible outside in January, but since we've been back I've been enjoying weekend walks to the local cafe where hot chocolate with a giant marshmallow is made even more delicious by drinking it outside, mitts on. I suppose as knitters, winter is our time to shine and really enjoy woolliness and cosiness. Lots of countries claim this saying as their own but it's true no matter which cold climate you're in: "There's no such thing as bad weather, only bad dressing."
So bring on the snow! I've got boots, I've got hot chocolate and I've got eleven hand-knitted scarves and wraps (yes, I just got up and counted). I am loving being outside in January. So how about you? Has knitting changed how you feel about winter? Are you enjoying basking in knitted glory rather than summer sunshine? And how long will this feeling last...?
This week I finished knitting the adorable Annabel Cardigan as a sample for the shop. Not only was I lucky enough to get a sneak peek of this wonderful yarn before it arrives over here in the UK in this month, but I managed to squeeze a new technique into the mix as well.
It was a very simple cardigan to knit in and of itself, being a top-down raglan in plain garter stitch, but that construction presented a problem to me which I have continually encountered and wanted to resolve. I've never been really happy with previous techniques I've used to weave or darn in ends in garter stitch. I'm not usually too much of a stickler about these things, especially when it only shows on the wrong side, but as I wasn't just knitting this for myself, I wanted a nice finish. So I went to a couple of knitting "bibles" but there wasn't anything specific to garter stitch, and the information just generally wasn't particularly helpful. Luckily we've been getting a lot of traditional books in stock at the shop, including Schoolhouse Press books, and so I turned to a copy of knitting guru Elizabeth Zimmermann's Knitting Workshop for guidance.
She's a genius clearly. She waxes lyrical about the joys of weaving in ends, and then she gives the best advice I've ever had on the subject:
Basically, tie your two ends in and overhand knot.
Then separate the plies of each strand.
I had 3 plies in one strand of Quince & Co Osprey.
Thread a sharp darning needle with one ply and then skim the the surface of the stitches (make sure to go through both the bumps from the garter stitch AND the flat "knit" rows between the bumps).
Pull the fabric a bit to even things out, snip the end of the strand close to the fabric, and marvel at your amazing invisibly woven-in ends.
I imagine this works just as well with stockinette and just about any other stitch pattern. Rest assured I will be using this method almost exclusively in the future.
I showed this to at least 5 people in the hour after I tried it and all were suitably impressed. And you will be too. Go on now, try it!
Hello there! It's been a while (again, I know!) but great news - I have finally written up the pattern for the Naomi Scarf after lots of very flattering requests for it on Ravlery. Since I added it to the Ravelry database last night, it's already in 18 queues - how lovely! I am really looking forward to seeing all the different versions everyone makes in different colours, yarns, etc. You can also find the pattern in my Etsy shop - whichever you prefer.
I'm pretty lucky to have an awesome job. After all, I do work in a knitting shop. And so it brought tears to my eyes last weekend when we opened the doors of our new, bigger, prettier (I know, to those of you who knew the old Loop, it doesn't seem possible) shop that there were 130+ knitters (and a couple of brave significant others) queued up waiting for the big unveiling. Incredible!
Here's just a few of the lovely things people have had to say about our shop:
My friend Rosemary and I started this blanket together a couple of weeks ago for a friend who became seriously ill while working Zambia. She was camping, and a terrible accident occurred that resulted in her being covered in burns. She was sent to South Africa, where she was joined by her mother, sister and uncle.
Rosemary and I, who have known this friend since we were children, were so upset by this news, and wanted to do something, anything, to help. There wasn't much that we could do from so far away, Rose being in Virginia, and me being in London, but Rose had the perfect idea that we could knit her something. Of course! If anything, the knitting we would do would be a comfort to us, who felt so helpless at this worrying time.
The pattern starting to grow.
We exchanged countless emails, deciding on the pattern, the yarn, the logistics. We started the blanket and as updates came in on our friend's progress, the blanket grew. We so looked forward to the day when we could send it off to her, hoping it would cheer her hospital room and keep her warm and comforted in the South African winter.
Yesterday, we got the devastating news that our dear childhood friend didn't make it. She lasted 58 days from the day of her accident - it never occurred to us she wouldn't continue to progress. Rose emailed to tell me the news - and also, what would we do with the blanket??
I looked at the pile of knitting last night. I'd completed about half of my portion. Looking at it, once full of so much hope and so much potential... I wondered if I would be able face knitting the rest.
We've decided to keep knitting. Now her family could use some comfort and some tangible affirmation that she touched lives. And actually, once I forced myself to pick up the knitting again, working each stitch comforted me too. Although knitting this blanket is a constant reminder of what we've lost, something about the soft yarn in my hands, the cheerful colours that remind us of our friend and the rhythm of each stitch are soothing. I don't know what I would've done without it.
As mentioned in my last post, I am trying to get a little culture every week with my friend Lara. Last week we visited Frederic Leighton's recently re-opened home in Kensington. I didn't know, well, anything really about Leighton until we decided to go there; as I learned, he was one of the most famous artists of the 19th century and often associated with the Aesthetic Movement. This house was built to his own specifications and is just plain stunning.
Having been working in a yarn shop for the past couple of months, I have begun to have a new appreciation - and awareness of - colour. My green Manu cardigan (finished last week and pretty much worn every day since) was my first departure from my usual palette of purples and burgundies and my visit to the V&A's quilt exhibition had me buying fabric in prints I wouldn't normally have considered.
(photo credit: Leighton House Museum)
So I feel like I was able to appreciate Leighton's House more fully than I would have three months ago. Every room was a different experience, and every room presented a new combination of colours that I never would have expected to work together. The first part of the house that you enter, the Narcissus Hall, is probably my favourite. It is lined with tiles in the most amazing shade of peacock blue with a gilded ceiling. Leading off this hall are the study, with a gorgeous green marble fireplace and William Morris Curtains. Opposite is the drawing room, with a turquoise painted wood floor and an enormous, colourful, Venetian glass chandelier. There is so much more - a dining room decorated in many different shades of red, the Arab Hall, deocorated with Middle Eastern ceramics and textiles, and another one of my favourites - the Silk Room, lined with olive green silk panels and also incorporating Italian art, Middle Eastern woodwork and more William Morris fabrics. If you're not in London to see the house in person, then I would highly recommend the virtual tour on their website (although some of the pictures don't appear to be completely up to date with the amazing restoration work they've done).
One of the wonderful things about this place is the way they've restored all this colour. Because the house was in the ownership of several others since the artist's death, the conservationists had to do some detective work to figure out exactly what it looked like when Leighton himself occupied it. They were able to read letters visitors wrote to friends (one mentioned having the same curtains as Leighton), newspaper articles and diaries to obtain clues, and then scratched through the many layers of paint to find the exact colours that were on the walls in his time and replicate them. I am also really excited to see that they have a talk coming up in June called Textiles and Wallpapers at Leighton House Museum, and you can bet I'll be there.
You'd think by now that I'd be in colour overload and ready to knit in several different shades of grey, but I'm afraid it's exactly the opposite. It looks like I can say officially that I am now a shawl knitter, and this one is my Ishbel, knit in the most gorgeous yarn - Malabrigo Lace.
Malabrigo has an amazing range of colours, and as I am feeling very colourful, and very much like spring recently, I couldn't knit it in anything but this shade: Frank Ochre.
For more inspiration on colour combinations and shades check out www.colourlovers.com - I find this can be really useful for colourwork in knitting, decorating a room, and hell, just getting dressed.
p.s. If you plan to visit Leighton House, you'll obviously need tea after. Lara and I went to the lovely and unpretentious Muffin Man Tea Shop near Kensington High Street. Any place that has cakes named after recently deceased members of the royal family is ok by me.
I am so behind - so many things to share! Firstly, I finally finished my most recent cardigan - the rising-up-the-ravelry-chartsManu, by the lovely Kate Davies. I have been following Kate's blog, needled, for only a short while now, but in that time, I and her many other readers were shocked to learn she'd had a stroke. It looks like she's on the road to recovery now, and back on the knitting track, and since her stroke she's not only been able to make such achievements as being able to walk and knit again, but has managed to get a pattern published. Impressive indeed.
I love the cardigan (you can read my detailed notes on the pattern and process on my ravelry project page) and it's absolutely perfect for spring. The yarn is lovely too, and while I wasn't sure about the bright green colour at first, now I just can't stop looking at it, or wearing it, for that matter. I was sure that I wouldn't have anything to wear that would actually go with the cardigan, but it turns out I was wrong about that too - it goes with almost everything!
In particular, I would like to think it goes well with this skirt I made. I got the limited-edition Liberty print fabric from the recently opened Quilts exhibition at the V&A. Feeling inspired by the sewing skills of KristenMakes, I checked out the BurdaStyle website (an almost-ravelry for sewing) and found a "novice" level pattern that worked out perfectly. Seriously, I can only use my sewing machine for straight lines, and that's all this was.
Speaking of the Quilts exhibition, it was huge. I could have spent hours in there. I don't think it was the greatest exhibition ever, or even the greatest quilt exhibition ever (that remains the Quilts of Gee's Bend exhibition I saw at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston in 2005) but it was still amazing. Among the critiques I have are that it was so dark! It was probably to protect the quilts, but still - I wanted to see that stitching. There were also a few rather "arty" quilts thrown in there. I felt a bit like these were there to somehow justify the presence of quilts - gasp - being in a gallery. Come on now, can't we appreciate the inherent beauty and history and craft of quilts? All that aside, there were some stunning examples in there. Unfortunately, no photography was allowed, but here's a snippet of a lovely one from the exhibition booklet.
And one from a postcard from the exhibition:
And the good stuff from the shop:
I went to the exhibition with my friend Lara, and she and I both don't work Tuesdays and Wednesdays, so we're trying to get to another exhibition, historic house, etc every week! Next up: Leighton House Museum in Kensington.
So I've joined 2,068 others in casting on Citron, from the winter Knitty. Now I'm not usually a shawl kind of person. I can appreciate the gorgeous lace, dainty nupps, and perfectly blocked points of the thousands of beautiful shawls fellow ravelers have knit, but they're just not something I've been keen to wear... until now, of course.
I actually made this one for a friend of mine, whose birthday it is today. It's pretty simple, but with a really lovely, ruffly, ruched result. I prefer to wear it "backwards", but she could probably wear it in the traditional way for a wedding or other more formal event. Now I'm hoping it will be the first (apart from my wedding shawl, here on ravelry) of many more to come.
Another one of those projects I've whipped up in the last month. I decided to frog the Cashmere Drop Stitch Scarf I started on waaaay back when, as I really wanted something that would show off this yarn to its best advantage. I don't usually go for variegated yarns (in fact, I usually hate them), but the colours in this Handmaiden 4-ply Cashmere just called out to me and man it's soft. I am almost a little bit sad it's getting warmer out and I won't be able to wear them much longer. Almost.
There. I said it. But so does everyone else and anyone who says they don't has no soul. We're still on the first season here in the UK, and gradually everyone is going, "I am so embarrassed to admit this, but I love Glee." And then everyone else says with relief, "So do I!"
One of the biggest talking points of the show is Jayma Mays' wardrobe as lovable guidance counselor Emma Pilsbury. Finally, librarian-chic is cool, and some well-deserved glory goes to the humble cardigan. The clincher for me though is her adorable array of sweater clips:
Clearly I am not the first to notice these as evidenced in this post.
These vintage clips came from the lovely Vintage Fifteen shop.
Now, here's the problem: I don't actually own a cardigan that requires or can accommodate sweater clips. Solution: knit one! Which leads me to another problem: which cardigan??? I have seen a few, but none so far that fill me with... well you know. Any suggestions?
Remember I said I would work backwards? Ok, so this one came sometime before the scarf when I was feeling the need for some instant gratification, just before I started the new job.
Note the cat in the background, oblivious to the fabulous knittedness behind her!
It's a really clever pattern from Veera Valimaki, who designs some seriously covetable patterns. (I would make any one of them in a flash if only I had enough yarn and time.) The cleverness of the pattern lies in the fact that most of the shaping is made by the shapes of the leaves, which look so pretty, aside from being functional. The lovely leaves put me in mind for spring, even though London is still really rather cold, and give me hope (as did the crocuses I saw sprouting in Acton on my way to work this morning - really I did!).
Lovely leaves!
Now in spite of all the cleverness, and all the lovely ravelry projects I had seen the sweater in, when I first tried it on I felt like an American football player in full padded gear - perhaps because I was just not used to bulky sweaters. However, I test-drove it at work today and got loads of compliments! I think with the right top on underneath and my hair worn down, I manage to avoid making my head look teeny-tiny in comparison with my shoulders - a good thing, yes.
Okay, so it's been awhile. I've been busy! I know, it's no excuse. It's been almost a month! Bad, bad.
But as I said, I have been busy. I have knit a whole slew of things, which if I am not too lazy - I mean busy - I will post very soon. But there is news to get out of the way first.
1) I have been writing. (No, not on this blog, but elsewhere and I am excited about it! More on this sometime soon, I hope.)
2) I have been taking an Italian class. This does not mean in any way that I can speak Italian. But I try.
2) I will be moving. Staying in London, but heading East. Woohoo. Everybody who lives East tells me they love it. I am excited.
3) I got a job! In a yarn shop! Lots of woohoos! It's all very exciting. I am doing my best not to spend the money I make on the yarn I sell. It's hard.
So that's the news out of the way. Let's get to the knitting. I guess I'll go backwards, since I just finished a project today that I am too excited about not to share. It's one I have improvised, to fit my friend Naomi's specifications. I kind of hope she doesn't like it, so I can keep it for myself.
It's in Debbie Bliss Cashmerino DK; a lovely pinky colour. I used mostly garter stitch, added a ruffle,some mesh crochet and a little fringe. I wasn't really sure it was going to turn out ok at first, but I have to say, I really like how it turned out and I am already plotting about making one for myself. I put it on ravelry, with more photos, here.
After all those teeny-tiny stitches (Lara loved the sweater btw, and it fits, it really fits!!), I felt the need to whip up something quick and satisfying. Inspired by the vintagey feel of the sweater, I decided to make up a pattern for a retro headwrap/ earwarmer/ headband/ whateveryouwantocallit.
It was so lovely and so fast that I made 3 versions of it pretty quickly and now I have the pattern available on Ravelry and in my shiny new etsy shop! There's lots and lots of how-to pics in the pattern, with instructions for all three variations.
Mine's coming in handy this weekend and as my friends on the east coast of the US know, winter's not quite finished yet, eh? Hope you enjoy :)
Hello! I'm a yarn, book and music junkie transplanted from Washington, D.C. to Boston to London, where I teach, design, and write about knitting and textiles.
I also co-edit the quarterly knitting publication pom pom.
Read my articles about Regency fashion in the first and third issues of Interweave's Jane Austen Knits magazine and check out my designs for Knit Now Issues 11 & 15, and of course in Pom Pom too!
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