Pause for applause.

To recap:

1. Got 10 balls of red cotton for an Xmas present: the balls turned out to have 48,000,000 metres of yarn each, so I made two tanks and an Everlasting Bagstopper.
2. The bagstopper rocks on; the two tanks shrank in such a way that they no longer fitted. BOO. I wore them anyway, persuading myself Nobody Will Notice.
3. Eventually wanted to make a dress: decided the red was perfect and the tanks were dead in the water anyway. UNRAVEL PARTY!
4. Unravelled, washed, loosened, reballed.
5. Cast on! Made meself a dress, with the enchanting name of
   111-3 tailored dress in ”Safran” with lace pattern and crochet borders.
6. This took me 8 weeks and was waaaaay too big. I was swimming in it. Before I had a chance to start convincing myself It Was Fine, Nobody Will Notice, I unravelled. I like knitting, I like knitting, I like knitting.
7. Cast on again, January 1. Cast off January 27. BOOYEAH! That’s some wicked fast knitting right there, dudes.
8. Block, dry: wear to brunch.

Look! Look at this!

Holy cow a porch mushroom!

Cavorting with delight about dress and mushroom.

Is that another mushroom?

Action shot

A Most Satisfying Conclusion.

It’s good to get these done, just in time for spring (I hope I never have to knit my way out of an emergency). It’s good to finish something I had to start and restart so often — I made Dadini try the first on to confirm the fit, having had to reboot this project so many goddamn times, so I am certain they’re ripe and ready. But another unexpected result of finishing up is reclaiming half my knitting tools. Butter my butt and call me a biscuit, these suckers took a lot of infrastructure. There were so many false starts and I shoved all of them into the bag to keep track of what hadn’t worked out, so when I finally finished, I dug them out and began reclaiming all that yarn. I regained:

• one 4mm circ
• one set of 3.25 dpns
• one 3.5mm circ (interchangeable)
• one set of 4mm circs
• stitch markers
• stitch holders
• two carry bags
• five assorted balls of black yarn, including two balls of Merino Supreme

See? Infrastructure. No wonder they were slow to finish, I needed a sherpa whenever I wanted to work on them.

Give it back, varmint!

Pattern: Knucks! Tres cool design, clear and well-written pattern. Full marks!
Mods: none
Yarn: Stuffed if I know. Acrylic, found in stash. Might have come with the house.

Now the mitts have returned all my tools and Green Sprite is basking in her completed-project status, a very curious thing has appeared behind the couch:

Don't worry, I was confused too.

An empty knitting bag. (Well, okay, not literally empty, but empty of projects, which my the whole point.)

This is one awesome sweater.

Pattern: Gytha by Jennifer Appleby, via Twist Collective.

Mods: Two colours — black and purple, oh yes oh yes oh yes — rather than a zillion. (Four.) Didn’t worry about the button at the neck, partly because I didn’t have any buttons to suit and also because I like it better without.

Did you get the hem? Can they see the hem?

Yarn: Bendigo Woollen Mills Classic 8 ply — a workhorse yarn that machine-washes really well, doesn’t seem to shrink or bleed and has good stitch definition. Black and purple. (Sorry, Raven and Plum.)

This pattern rocks really hard. Seriously hard. Really clear and well-explained, nice big charts and so forth — this is the first thing I’ve knit from the Twist Collective and it’s caramelising my onions something fierce, if you know what I mean.

I can smell something good over there.

Practically knit itself. Weird. Awesome.

I'm going to find out what that smell was. Take a walking-away shot.

Stats first:
Yarn: Araucania Ranco Solid, in a dark teal colour whose particular colourway title eludes me but doesn’t really matter anyway, because ‘dark teal’ more or less covers it.
Pattern: None, made it up as I went along. I wrote it down on some paper but I think it got used as a shopping list and now I’ve lost it. But it’s socks! You can figure socks out.

Maybe FO “report” is a little grandiose.

a fleeting glimpse of flouncy footwear

The thing about photographing socks is that you really need a model who isn’t you.

I had one fat, lush skein of Arucania Ranco in dark teal. It’s good stuff: sturdy and soft. Most of it went into a slouchy baggy hat; and there was enough left over for socklets. I had to be a bit clever here, which puts me way out of my usual derrrp zone. I don’t like rogue bits of yarn kicking about, no good for any project and clogging up the Roomba, so I wanted to use up every last skerrick of the ball. Ahh, toe-up socks, how I love thee. These were a blast to make. Quick, small (read: portable) and slightly challenging.

Toe-up socks: fit them as you go, make them as long as your yarn allows, win all the way to the museum. The only drama, my little llama farmers, is making sure you have the same amount for both socks. You can do this by weighing the ball, calculating half and then winding it into two balls of equal weight; or you can (if, say, you’re heading away with friends for a week in the Victorian alps and don’t want to lug a set of scales around, having already comprehensively overpacked with regard to dried fruit and novels) knit the first sock past the heel, put it on some scrap yarn/spare needles/stitch holders and cast on the mate with the other end of the ball. I love doing this: there’s something funny about carting about the first sock still plugged in to the working yarn, like some sort of patient twin waiting for its clone to show up to play.

Once the mate sock has reached the same level of progress as the first, you start working both of them, alternating one round of each, until eat up all the remaining yarn. The biggest challenge for me was only having one set of needles to do this with: each sock sat on two needles, and then a fifth needle for working the stitches. A bit awkward, but not impossible.

The legs (i.e. everything above the heel) and the top half of the feet is worked in mistake rib. It looks fantastic, is light and springy, and, well, that about covers it. What more do you want? Rubber biscuit?

Efforts to persuade others to model have been unsuccessful, because I refuse to give them the socks.

Love love love mistake rib. Basically it’s 2×2 rib worked over an uneven multiple of stitches (multiple of 2, + 1 extra). Tons has already been said about making beauty out of a mistake, deliberate mistakes leading to a complex and pretty pattern, etc. etc. I’m not going to bother: get zen on your own time, Im busy. Got bread to make, emmereffers!

Let this post be a double-whammy of learningness for you! Self-portraits are not easy to manage without a remote control and a tripod for your camera. Add short arms, poor motor control and and fidgety fingers that keep accidentally hitting the power button instead of the take-a-photo button and there’s a fair bit of trial-and-error.

I finished my Slouchy Sockhead hat! Whee! But it wasn’t an immediate rush of love upon casting off. There were some reserves and concerns and doubts and that sort of thing. See, a while ago I cast on a test: same yarn (different colourway), but not enough to make a whole hat. Just the rib and a little stockinette: now it’s a dreadband, bravely fighting back the locks. The yarn stretched a lot, so when it came time to cast on for realsies, I only did 120 sts (not 144, as the pattern recommends). Plus, I accidentally worked the four inches of rib in 1×1 instead of 2×2 rib, so it’s much more springy and clingy and less slouchy and…clouchy.

The big question: could it be slouchier?

But I think it works: firstly, it’s loosening with use-enning, and secondly (which perhaps I should have mentioned first), I gave it tentacles! Wee tendrils at the end: three several-inch tails of i-cord with dangling, unwoven-in ends. I like ‘em.

Now, lessons in self-portraiture.

1. Don’t pretend to have noticed something fascinating out the window: nothing is going to draw your viewers’ attention away from the fact that (a) the photo is wonky; and (b) your light fitting seems to have a big white penis.

Why, what could THAT be?

2. Do smile a little so that your profile looks a bit less like an eerily-calm mug shot.

Wanted for urbane terrorism.

3. Do pay attention to your camera…

Missed.

…and the zoom.

Missed again.

4. Do consider using props when you notice that self-portraiture doesn’t seem to be working out so great.

Still life with slouch

5. Do press friends into modelling. True friends will always be willing to help, or at least lack the capacity to decline.

(He owes me money.)

…but be careful: sometimes friends will look better in your FOs than you do. Don’t be discouraged and certainly don’t surrender the goods on the spot.

Good friends know style.

Project details

Pattern: Bohoknits’ Sockhead hat. An awesome design, totally straightforward, comfortable and fun. Great talking/travel knitting. Like I said, I accidentally worked the rib in 1×1 instead of 2×2: I think 1×1 generally looks better, but I don’t think it’s so critical that I need to rebuild. Five stars!

Yarn: Araucania Ranco Multy, in a shifting dark teal colourway that speaks of the abiding mystery of rockpools. (Greenish.) Really nice yarn, one of my favourites, although I don’t think it does so well with machine washing, which makes it perfect for a rarely-washed item like a hat.

A commissioned project! My Brotherini requested a black scarf, and, having recently unravelled a huge jumper-worth of black Merino Supreme, I was looking for a new project and ripe for a scarf. Cosmic. He even knew what pattern he wanted, since I’d made myself a Wavy years-und-years-und-years ago and he remembered. Nothing could be easier:

wavy wavy woo

I am surprised how much I loved making this: I have a funny relationship with Merino Supreme, but damn it’s nice on the fingers. Plus, although scarves don’t usually go super-quick, it only took me about three weeks to finish this baby. Long enough to feel the effort, not so long I got bored. Scarves are pretty great: everyone on Ravelry seems to be all about the lace shawls, which are magnificent, and I have a pretty hard-burning boner for neckwarmers and cowls and the like, but scarves…there will always be a place for cool scarves.

woovy woovy waves

Blocking involved…well, I’m not a professional knitter. I don’t want to win prizes for sleeki-sexi-perfect-i-ness when it comes to fine-tuning things, and anyway, knitting is about making use of resources, using your wholesome hands to produce loveful gifts, not about executing things with machine-like OKAY I THREW IT IN THE BATH.

well-washed wavy woo

Then spread it out on the back table. Seems to be doing nicely! Merino Supreme will take a bit of wet, a bit of rough (won’t we all, given half a chance?) and so I gave it a wring in a towel and then sprawled it out, where it is currently drying. I just wanted to get it wet enough to relax the stitches and give them a bit more uniformity. And I think I have achieved thi<strongs goal. So my Brotherini's neck will soon be wrapped in wavy warmth! Huzzah! (Assuming he doesn't try to wear it while it's still wet. That would be silly.)

Stats:

Pattern: Wavy, from Knitty, Winter 2004.
Mods: None, unless you count substituting Cleckheaton’s Merino Supreme for the Cascade 220. Frankly, I don’t think of yarn substitution as a mod, but as a necessity. Thoughts?
Rating: Sweet-as, bro.

haw haw haw I go

I feel like I had no hand in the production of this top. It’s gorgeous, comfortable and flattering, and I feel like it happened without me. Its appearance was effortless. I had some Naturally Haven 4ply merino to use up (a really really really really nice yarn, by the way: soft and springy and smooth and oooooh baby crimp my fringe) and the pattern is seriously cool. My gauge was waaaaay finer, however: the pattern calls for 18 sts/26 rows (over a 10cm square), and I got 28 sts/40 rows. Still, that was easy enough to work around: I figured out that if I worked through the pattern using the stitch count for the size 2X, that would be just about right. Turned out to be damn spot on. (Damn spot!)

I really love the lacework: I thought it was going to be a little more restrained than I wanted, but it opened up beautifully in the blocking. Here’s a mid-work close-up:

Lacey close up

The neckline is wonderful, too. Just pick up the stitches from the U-shaped scoop and work until you have a nice slouchy cowl. I can see that heavier yarns have the advantage here for making a deep, slouchy cowl: the lighter yarn isn’t weighed down as much, and so you can still sort of see where I picked up the stitches. But I think a heavier yarn for a sleeveless top wouldn’t work for me, and, as I said, I had some 4ply on hand. Here’s a close up of the neckline, with a bonus look at my now six-week-old baby dreadlocks.

serious knitting is serious

Details
Pattern: Lacey tunic by Beautia Dew — awesome pattern. Clearly written and a really nice result.
Mods: Completely different yarn and gauge. Still turned out pretty damn fine.
Conclusion: Awesome pattern: you should totally knit it.

Having finished Agave satisfactorily (I wear it as I type), I diverted all remaining yarn to the pursuit of Coachella.

From these disparate parts, I create...

Which meant tiny scrap balls and a rogue i-cord from a project long forgotten, joined together with a robust Russian join.

...a beautiful unity.

Before I cast on Agave, I made sure I had enough yarn for Coachella by taking it almost to completion. Once I finished Agave, I diverted all remaining yarn to Coachella, and I got a couple of extra inches in length, which is awesome. This might be my second-favourite bit — check out how little I have left after casting off:

That's all she wrote.

I love it. I used EZ’s sewn cast off (great tutorial from a 2006 Knitty) for the first time, too: it’s fantastic for a rolled hem, because it’s incredibly neat and stretchy. The instructions recommend having yarn three times the length of your proposed cast off edge, a rule I always hate. Does that mean with the edge stretched out? Does that mean leaving the edge limp? Should you leave the yarn limp too? What if I need a really stretchy cast off?  While I was casting off, I kept checking again, anxious that I’d have to undo it and unpick a whole round to get my cast off in order: as it was, I had just enough. Take a moment to look at that photo again. That’s all that was left. Awyeah. I used to have six balls of South West Trading Company’s Bamboo in purple: now I have a damn sexy skirt and two funky tops.

Oh, y;know, just hanging out...

The racer back on Coachella is kinda what sold me on the pattern right from the start. I love it. Racer backs are sexy as hell.

I don't stop talking for photos

Oh, wait, I forgot about the cowl neck. Cowl necks are even sexier than racer backs. Maybe it was the cowl neck that hooked me.

Pattern: Coachella, from Knitty

Mods: Heaps!  My gauge was completely different to that recommended in the pattern, so I did some back-of-the-napkin maths and figured that the stitch count I wanted for the first few steps was roughly the same as the stitch count for the medium size. So I more or less followed the medium size pattern, but with a finer gauge.  And then threw in a couple of extra hip increases as it got longer.

Yarn: South West Trading Company’s Bamboo, in purple. boy howdy, I’ve had this yarn for yonks.  I bought a butt-tonne of it and have had quite a few false starts here and there.  Now it’s an Intolerable Cruelty, an Agave tank and a Coachella, and I think that’s pretty damn cool.

Agave lace in detail (I’ve used this picture before):

You may remember me from such blog posts as...

To crossed i-cord straps, bethini says YES: .

A fine day to wear an Agave!

I seriously love this tank. (Despite my facial expression.)

Walking like an Egyptian is serious business

Pattern: Bamboo Agave by Andrea Rangel, as wicked a lace-mistress as ever I’ve seen in the knit-o-sphere.

Mods: Made it considerably shorter, losing about four repeats of the lace pattern. I’d love to make this again (oooh, in indigo) and make it longer. Still, I think it looks pretty awesome even as a cropped lace top. I think a longer version would also make the lace more drapey, and pull the back down a little more, due to the extra weight, and I’d like that.

Yarn: South West Trading Company’s Bamboo. Slinky, cool, soft, shiny stuff: God, I love it to bits.

Overall rating: YES. This pattern is beautiful and interesting in concept and then clearly explained and logical in layout: all things I love in a pattern. I strongly recommend you purchase and make it immediately.

In the beginning..,

Rebirth, like birth, involves pain. Well, no, it doesn’t. It’s mostly metaphorical. But in order to rebuild the sweater into the form it truly desired, to release the truest form of this yarn, I had to break it down into its component forms:

Think of them as big, woolly atoms.

And then begin recomposing the component forms, coaxing their truest form into fruition. Beautiful, really.

Restart complete!

Not to mention speedy! Knitting this sucker took me…let’s see…hang on, I’m just checking the photo EXIF data…nope…ah, Ravelry! I claim on Ravelry to have cast on 1 September, and it is now 4 October. That’s a month from go-to-whoa, babies, for a whole vest. You’ll notice I’m conveniently glossing over the six-week hiatus between unravelling the original sweater and casting on the vest — and I don’t think I’ll even bother mentioning the extended pause between reclaiming the sweater from the original recipient and unravelling it. It just takes the buff off my buns.

I haven’t blocked her yet, because there’s a chance the recipient will bounce through the door At Any Second and want to take it home, and she won’t want it wet, now, will she? I’m also having a bit of trouble with photographing it. Normally, the stalwart knitting blogger photographs the finished object outdoors, where light is optimal, having had a makeover/manicure/facelift or something. Since the vest isn’t my size, there seemed little point photographing it on me, but I’m short of other options. I tried some local furniture:

but what posture!

Which gave the whole thing a slightly more cubic shape than I would consider accurate.  I thought about draping it over some shrubbery, but I’m not sure the potato plants are up to it yet:

Magnificent, but not yet modelling material.

So I brought the vest back inside for my last resort: stuffed toys.  The vest is draped here over Barney, who has been pressed out of retirement and into active modelling service, but with little success in terms of displaying the finished work.  Barney lacks the embonpoint of the vest recipient.

You're never alone with Barney!

Absence of appropriately supportive models aside, this vest was a fun knit! I loved freeing up the yarn from the original sweater and giving it another chance.  Makes me feel good to turn an unworn and unwanted something into a new and (potentially) adored something.

Pattern: Back-to-School U-Neck Vest by Stephanie Japel (from Fitted Knits) — really good, straightforward pattern, but look up the errata before you get started, because there’s some pretty significant corrections you need to make note of.

Yarn: Cleckheaton’s Merino Supreme, harvested from a sweater (which, now that I think of it, was also from Fitted Knits).

Pretty damn pleased with myself right about now.