Drop Stitches Not Bombs

A Close Secret

2011-09-20T16:08:00.000+01:00

I love the windy closes that extend away from Edinburgh's Royal Mile like veins on a leaf. Their unassuming, dark entrances provide no clue as to what treasures lie beyond. I chanced upon this one on a wander while on the phone.

Dunbar's Close garden, off the Royal Mile

I had to draw on powerful reserves of altruism in order to blog about this peaceful plot of orderly vegetation; perhaps a secret garden should by definition be a private pleasure, lest it become, simply, a known garden. Not to be confused with a gnome garden.

Anyway, I highly recommend Dunbar's Close for those weary of foot or spirit - or those who entertain fantasies of being a seventeenth-century lady, taking turns about the garden before finding a sunny patch to do some stitching.

Salisbury Crags

A little while down the Mile, the landscape in front of the Parliament ('here for tae represent aw Scotlan's folk') is provides a more dramatic background to my knitting. As for what I'm working on - that is a close secret too, for the moment.

A Day at the Museum

2011-09-04T12:21:00.000+01:00

The entrance hall - note the sad lack of fish! The coin-dodging carp that used to take up much of this space were the main attraction of the museum for me as a child.

The National Museum of Scotland reopened this summer after a three year refurbishment project. As far as I can recall, the last time I visited it was on an ill-fated semi-date: the guy was a smoker, which I disapproved of, so I playfully hid his cigarettes in the Ivy Wu Gallery, which he disapproved of. Luckily there was no awkward games of hunt-the-tobacco when I went yesterday with my friend Alice - just lots of marvellous creatures and wondrous objects.

A massive prehistoric deer

A glowering T-Rex

An astronomically interesting room...

... replete with astrolabes and other other-worldly paraphernalia for measuring other worlds

A giant trilobite scuttling up a wall

Ptiny pterosaurs flapping overhead

There were details I'd forgotten I remembered from the museum's previous incarnation, like these beautiful Victorian radiators wrapped around columns.

It was a super day; I will have to go back when I am less cold-y and more able to take everything in. Have you had any exciting days out recently? Leave a comment and let me know! In the meantime, I plan to curl up, drink cinnamon tea and knit my snuffles away - I hope you're all having lovely Sundays.

Plenty of fun to be had in the gift shop.

Creak

2011-09-02T11:11:00.001+01:00

It's been such an horrifically long time since I last posted, I feel like the only news that would justify the silence would be something along the line of, 'I gave birth to twins, won a sea battle, and was additionally elected Pope'. Instead I have nothing of real interest to report- I've just been rather down over the past few months, and haven't felt much like knitting. Actually, that's not quite true - there have been a couple of abortive projects that I might share with you - but in general, I've been going through a real creative dry spell. This morning, though, I turned up 24 hours early for a breakfast appointment, and thought I might gear up the creaky cranks of the ole blog machine. I'm using my unexpected solitude to swatch for Vitamin D by Heidi Kirrmaier (not sure how to do the link on my iPhone).

Edited to add photo.

Brooching the Subject

2011-03-30T11:54:00.000+01:00

I thought of a pun; I took some photos of some brooches. That is all.

Not Just Any Tam, Dick or Harry

2011-03-28T21:38:00.000+01:00

... a very special Snapdragon Tam, in some very special gift yarn.

I am really enjoying the pattern so far, and indeed knitting in general - I hadn't realised just how much I'd missed the soothing, soul-salving stitching.

Boo's Attic Yarn

2011-03-27T13:27:00.000+01:00

A friend and I paid a visit to the Made-It Market (Facebook link) yesterday. It was a fairly small affair in the Guildhall, with tables sporting cute cards, cool anime accessories, handmade chocolate, and a stall of those meaningful words ('love', 'friend', 'feelings') in a typewriter-y font glued onto stones. There was also some rather exciting yarn, from a local dyer who doesn't seem to have a website yet, but who can be contacted at boosattichomeATgmailDOTcom. I couldn't resist this one-off skein of laceweight - it's not the softest yarn I've ever stroked, but the colour is mesmerising: a dark, sensuous, velvety claret (the colourway is 'Cherry Valance'). I think was is the first time I've met a dyer in person, and it was most interesting to hear how she achieved this intense shade by dyeing over an oatmeal coloured yarn.

Also, how adorable is this little key charm included with the skein?!

Spring Sprung

2011-03-23T18:33:00.000Z

The trees are bearing boughs of blossom, chicks are chirruping outside my window, and I have been experiencing a flowering or rebirth of interest in things stitchy. I went through something of a creative dry spell, and it was difficult to keep up a craft blog while I wasn't making anything to post about. There's nothing like a real, pressing need to do some work on my PhD to make me engage in a variety of displacement activities, from knitting, to running, to putting together outlandish outfits, to emptying my penny jar (it contained £1.58).

The weather was truly glorious today, so I dug out some crumpled summer clothes and took myself off on a promenade to soak up the Cambridge. I found my sandal-ed feet inexorably drawn to this fine fabric shop, where I managed to resist the temptation to buy, but did daydreams about handmade sun-dresses. I'd dearly love finally to befriend my sewing machine... perhaps this will be the summer of sewing.

Handmade Fashion Photoshoot

2011-01-30T23:15:00.000Z

Myself and some of my knits are to be featured in a spread on 'Handmade Fashion' in Varsity Newspaper. It did mean hauling the yasteroid around Cambridge, which has grown considerably since I first documented its existence, and is now about the size of Malta. I almost took along my current project - a jumper knit in the round on circular needles - but I was worried that wouldn't look like knitting to most people, so rustled up a pointless garter strip to use as a prop. I'm rather pleased with the photos, taken by the talent Edward Quekett - this one features my Irtfa'a shawl, and Forecast cardigan. I can't wait to see them in print!

Posting

2011-01-26T19:18:00.000Z

Gosh, it's hard to get back into the swing of blogging after a break! I feel like I should have something really momentous to say to justify the silence, but I don't, so here is a picture I took today of a postbox, as a reminder to myself to keep posting.

A Swift Catch-Up

2011-01-17T18:56:00.000Z

Apologies for a blog silence tend to be tedious so I'll keep it brief: more than two months without a post - man alive, what have I been doing?!

Well, acquiring an antique swift for Christmas, for one thing...

I can't really use that as excuse for not blogging, though, can I...

I'll resolve to do better, and make a swift getaway.

Pimp My Gloves

2010-11-11T19:10:00.000Z

Trying to use an iPhone with gloves - an exercise in futility:

Until, that is, you have pimped your gloves with Alison's nifty kit.

You can't really see on the video, but I typed 'Yay!'. This is what my embroidery looks like - Alison provides a number of adorable templates if you are handier with an embroidery needle than I. I stitched a wonky circle on each thumb.

I'm so pleased - it really is magical. My gloves will be staying on this winter.

'... from one blogger to another!'

2010-11-10T15:12:00.000Z

Alison's awesome glove transformation kit arrived from America...

... but that was not all - not only did the package contain much owl-ish, glove-ish goodness (above), but she also very generously included two utterly gorgeous skeins of yarn as a gift 'from one blogger to another'!

I am so touched at this thoughtful present, and determined to steam through my Christmas knitting in order to make something special from it all for myself.

I have just used the conductive embroidery kit, and can report excellent results. I have taken some photos of that process, but I think I'll save them for another post, and leave this one as a simple expression of gratitude - thank you so much!

Elphaba Pullover

2010-11-08T09:47:00.000Z

Elphaba (ravlink) is a spell-binding pattern - understandably so given that it's named after a witch. It was fun and surprisingly quick to make.

The yarn is Skein Queen 'Squash', a gorgeous hand-dyed superwash merino 4ply in the colourway 'Blackcurrant' that feels luxurious next to the skin - the whole jumper took less than two skeins!

Do you ever have an idea for a photoshoot that just doesn't work out as you'd planned? As soon as I finished this jumper, I imagined it front of 'Violet Villa', an elegant abode which I daydream about living in every time I walk past. Getting other people to take photos of your knits, though, is a tricky business - non-knitters seem to struggle to focus on the garment and not the surroundings, as above, or me, as below.

To get the two nice photos of the jumper at the beginning of the post I had to bark repeatedly 'Forget about my face - JUST DECAPITATE ME!' every time I saw the camera drifting away from its target. The poor inhabitants of Violet Villa were probably cowering terrified inside.

Shooting From The Hip: Genoa 01/11/2010

2010-11-01T18:23:00.000Z

Another rainy day, viewed through a steamy bus window. Still, I got lots of knitting done, much of it to a sparkling Cary Grant film, His Girl Friday.

I fly back tomorrow, and am thinking of keeping this series of posts up, alongside regular knitting content. What do you think? Are you sick of retro photo trickery?

Shooting From The Hip: Genoa 31/10/2010

2010-10-31T16:31:00.000Z

A somewhat sad and sodden Sunday. Almost everything was shut it town, so I came back to the hostel and finished both of my knitting projects - thank goodness I took an emergency ball of wool! It seems that tomorrow is a public holiday here, so I won't be able to use any libraries or archives... now I'm a bit worried of running out of emergency knitting! And, for that matter, food. But the knitting is my main preoccupation. I hope you have all been having happier Hallowe'ens.

Shooting From The Hip: Genoa 30/10/2010

2010-10-30T21:52:00.000+01:00

Rather a less successful lonesome lunch today. The waitresses studiously ignored me (reminding me of that brilliant George S. Kaufman epitaph for a waiter: 'God finally caught his eye'), and, realising I was not a native speaker half-way through ordering pudding, started speaking very loudly and clearly at me ('This cake has PINE-NUTS - do you know what a PINE-NUT is?'). Then, as the figurative faded cherry on my slightly substandard fruit salad, what should come blaring over their speakers but Celine Dion's 'All By Myself'. I couldn't wait to leave.

Still, I suppose it could be worse. At least I didn't have to participate in the sinister sex-game 'Bunga Bunga' with Silvio Berlusconi, unlike 'Ruby', the latest barely-legal beauty to be connected to the president. Shudder.

Alternating skeins

2010-10-29T21:00:00.000+01:00

Warning! This post might be quite boring for non-knitters. In fact, it might also be boring for knitters who are not interested in this specific technique. It also features a lot of rather imperfect iPhone photos. So sorry about all that... but hopefully it might be vaguely helpful to someone.

I am alternating skeins on my Elphaba Pullover, to avoid pooling of the lovely hand-dyed yarn. That sounds so self-explanatory, 'alternating skeins'; it turns out it's not, and it took me a while to find a method I was happy with. I started off alternating every other round on the body, twisting my old yarn with my new at each switch.

This was ok...ish. The eagle-eyed observer, or the massive knitwear perfectionist (ahem), might be able to spot the slight pucker it caused on the right side, despite my efforts to keep the 'floats' loose:

When I started on the sleeves, though, my results from this method went from 'ok-ish' to 'completely bloody awful': massive holes, sloppy enlarged stitches, unhappy tight stitches - it was a mess:

I was ready to give up, rip back the sleeve and restart it using just one skein, when, as so often happens, Ravelry saved the day. I got a couple of really useful suggestions to my disconsolate forum post on the subject. Firstly, someone (the designer of this pullover, in fact!) recommended I move the place where I was switching yarns from my magic loop join to the middle of a needle - this made things much better already. But then I followed this grumperina link on knitting one-row spirals, and have become such a zealous convert to her method, that I've taken some photos of it in action, in the hope of recruiting more knitting souls to the cause! I'm currently doing the lace cuff to the sleeve, so I can assure you that any holes here are entirely intentional.

Here we are just before the switch - the 'new' yarn is on the left and the 'old' one on the right:

Knit the next stitch still using the 'old' yarn.

Drop the 'old' yarn and pick up the 'new' (according to grumperina they should never tangle together, though I have not always managed this) to knit the next stitch.

At this stage, the stitch connecting to the 'new' yarn in the row below (underneath the second stitch on the right hand needle - the hole beneath the first stitch is a lace hole, not a bad hole) may be slightly enlarged.

Gently tug on the 'new' yarn until that stitch looks the same as those around it, being careful not to tighten too much.

And that's it - just knit the rest of the round with the 'new' yarn, repeating the steps above when you encounter the second strand of yarn.

And the results?

It's still not 100% invisible, but I think this is mainly down to the colour shifts. Most importantly, it feels great - as flexible and forgiving as stocking stitch should, without being constricted by 'floats' - and it's much less arduous to do than that intarsia-style twisting I was doing on the body. In fact, it's so much better that I'm almost thinking of re-doing the body to match... This method can also be used with different-coloured yarns to create barber-pole type stripes - spiral-tastic!

This is my first attempt at a quasi-tutorial, so please do comment if there's anything not clear. Happy alternating!

Shooting From The Hip: Genoa 29/10/2010

2010-10-29T19:10:00.003+01:00

The buses were on strike for almost all of today, so during the brief windows when a few were running they were overflowing with people, packed together in an intricate (and sometimes uncomfortably intimate) human tessellation that left little room for breathing let alone knitting. Elsewhere, I'd just walk, but Genoa is a murderously mountainous place, and the youth hostel sits right at the summit of one of its peaks.

How about you, readers? Do you commute? Are you lucky enough to take a form of transport that allows you to knit/sew/sit down? I do hope you've all had lovely Fridays.

Shooting From The Hip: Genoa 28/10/2010

2010-10-28T19:15:00.001+01:00

How could I do a series of photos from Italy without any food? It is everywhere, from artistically arranged confectionary in the windows of the pasticcerie, to the scent of cooking seeping out through cracks in shutters. Shops (and archives) routinely shut at 12.30 or 1 and open again at 3; no speedy sandwiches wolfed down at desks here.

The thing is, I'm not always very good at taking advantage of all this bounty when I'm here all by myself. I tend to find a quiet place to perch and eat a little slice of pizza or focaccia, perhaps supplemented with some fruit if I feel I'm in danger of catching scurvy. I don't mind spending time on my own - in fact solitary exploring is one of my favourite things to do - but this has not so far extended to eating out. I have always been foolishly fearful of asking for a table for one.

This lunch, however, was different. Inspired in part by the sweet video below, which seems to be all over the craft blogs at the moment, and in part by the fact that it was just too darn cold to sit outside, I faced my fear, and went into a bustling restaurant. I didn't feel like a loser, no one gave me pitying looks, and I had an unbelievably delicious meal, pictured above. Definitely an experience I would repeat.

Shooting From The Hip: Genoa 27/10/2010

2010-10-27T17:34:00.000+01:00

The fountain in Piazza De Ferrari is a constant source of inspiration. I took these two pictures next to it within seconds of each other on my lunch break today. The girl at the top was rather ostentatiously taking photos with her vintage camera; I very surreptitiously took one of her with my faux vintage camera. The couple at the bottom are just about to embrace and leave in opposite directions.

Hand in Glove

2010-10-27T09:07:00.001+01:00

I realised I hadn't taken any modelled shots of my Farinelli gloves (previously seen in this hands-free post), so I thought I'd remedy this omission.

These gloves are total winners in terms of warmth, glamour, and my evident desire to coat myself fully in the creations of Ms Old Maiden Aunt, but they do have one small drawback: I have to peel one off - with appropriate languorous insouciance - every time I need to use my iPhone (either that or use my nose to operate the touch-screen, which I have grown embarrassingly adept at doing). Until, that is, I read this post over on le petit hibou. An embroidery kit which allows you to keep your gloves on while using a touch-screen phone: what an utterly genius idea! How handy! I'm crossing my (gloved) fingers that she'll be able to ship a kit across the Atlantic to me, so I can keep my opera gloves on this winter.

Shooting From The Hip: Genoa 26/10/2010

2010-10-26T19:28:00.000+01:00

The cool, gilded elegance of the Durazzo-Giustiniani archive in Genoa, where I have been reading the household account books of a sixteenth-century noblewoman.

Tealeaves in the treeleaves

2010-10-26T19:19:00.000+01:00

I'm back in Genoa for a little while, doing a bit of history and taking orange buses that hurtle around hairpin hillside bends barely wide enough to fit a weasel. Before I left Cambridge, though, my friend Simone and I photographed some of each other's knitwear...

Behold the Tealeaves Cardigan by Melissa LaBarre, knit in Orkney Angora St Magnus DK. I'm a big fan of this angora/lambswool blend, having used it to make three Rose Red berets, but this sweater-sized green pile sat in my stash for a very long time before I decided what to do with it. I wanted a pattern simple enough not to detract from its fuzzy vibrancy, but pretty enough to do it justice; I think this fits the bill.

This cardi was very nearly a stress-free knit - the body sent me into such a stocking stitch coma that I blithely knit two inches too far on it and had to rip back. The buttonbands, however, gave me no end of gyp: I knit not two but five of them before I had a pair I was satisfied with.

I think I look a bit like a startled woodland creature in the above photo.

I used two vintage buttons I bought many moons ago in Loop, which are glittering crystal as opposed to the frog-spawn they appear to made of in this photo. All in all a stash-busting success!

Leaving knitting aside for a moment, I can't seem to stop taking photos, so I'm thinking of sharing them in a sort of 'picture of the day' series. Unless, that is, you are all heartily sick of Hipstamatic, in which case speak up now!

Dyeing drying

2010-10-22T11:44:00.000+01:00

I let my freshly dyed yarn luxuriate in its cochineal soup for about 32 hours before rinsing it out and hanging it up to dry. For some reason, as I was doing that, I had this obnoxious reggaeton song stuck in my head, with 'gasolina' replaced by 'cochinilla' (as in 'A ella le gusta la cochinilla/ Da me mas cochinilla!/ Como le encanta la cochinilla/ Da me mas cochinilla!'). As Jane commented, cochineal is indeed the product of thousands upon thousands of dead beetles, making it a somewhat unethical choice for a vegetarian... Oh well, all in the name of ~~elaborate procrastination~~ historical research. In honour of its entomological origins, though, I hereby call this colour 'Beetlejuice'! It looks like it's going to be a deep rose, a colour lacking from my wardrobe.

But what to make with 874 yards of rose-tinted fingering weight yarn? I've been eyeing up Laura Chau's Honeybee Cardigan for a while; I especially like fernknits' pullover version. I am drawn to pullovers at the moment, possibly because of a buttonband 'mare which I'll tell you all about soon.

I've been dyeing to tell you...

2010-10-21T12:55:00.000+01:00

Yesterday was 20/10/2010, an appropriately momentous date for a hugely exciting couple of packages to arrive.

Firstly, down at the bottom right of the photo collage, two skeins of superwash bluefaced Leicester yarn, creamy and naked and natural. I have never used bluefaced Leicester before; in the skein it feels crisper and possibly hardier than merino - I shall be curious to see what it's like to knit with.

Secondly, a selection of treats from DT Craft and Design: at the top left, sodium carbonate and alum, and at the bottom left, 10g of powdered cochineal.

I received the packages at lunchtime, and, without wishing to sound melodramatic, went straight home to dye. I was only slightly guilty about leaving the library: really this is not so much fun with fibre as a very serious and studious piece of research for my PhD, actually. I have been reading A Perfect Red by Amy Butler Greenfield, which is all about the quest for a vivid red dye in the early modern period, and the importing of cochineal by the Spanish conquistadors. Cochineal had been used in Mexico for centuries to dye all manner of things from cloth to food to prostitutes' teeth. It was eagerly received in Europe as an improvement on existing Old World dyestuffs: madder often yielded autumnal russets or oranges rather than true reds, and brazilwood and orchil gave impressive initial results that were disappointingly quick to fade. By the 1580s, the tiny black grains transported across the Atlantic by enterprising Spaniards had virtually eclipsed all these other options: as Butler Greenfield puts it,

The priest's red velvet chasuble, the dandy's red satin sleeves, the nobleman's red silken draperies and the countess's red brocade skirts - all were now coloured with cochineal.

In my kitchen, I felt like an apron-ed alchemist, mixing up potions, stirring in crystals, engaged in the mystical process of turning one thing into another thing. It was thrilling to feel practically connected to the early modern dyers I read about, and indeed the Aztecs, who used alum as a mordant and cochineal as a dye exactly as I did, though they did not order their supplies off of the internet, or use a microwave to practise their art. I followed the excellent leaflet included with dye, and have left my yarn to steep in the fabulously crimson dyebath. I'll be sure to update you on the progress of this first dyeing experiment of mine.

Actor's Nightmare; Knitter's Dream

2010-10-19T10:21:00.000+01:00

I am in a play at the moment called The Actor's Nightmare (any Cambridge readers, do come to the Corpus Playroom at 7.30, tonight through Saturday). The script, by Christopher Durang, is admirably short and well-crafted, not least because it affords the knitting actress superb little pockets of time backstage to work on the above top-secret gift project.

I always look forward to stretches of knitting time, be they on public transport, snuggled up in my room listening to podcasts, or in freezing and fustily furnished green rooms. Where have you been snatching moments to craft recently?

The adventures of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of All Over the Place.

2010-10-13T10:41:00.000+01:00

I have been working on the Elphaba Pullover (ravlink) in a whole variety of places: in early morning Stansted; on the steps of the Palazzo Ducale; in a youth hostel dorm; by the fountain in Piazza De Ferrari; in the very cool Caffè degli Specchi; in front of the spurious Christopher Columbus' house; by the columned cloister behind said house; on a plane (I was so pleased to sneak my Addis safely past security - the first time I've attempted to do so); and on the Cambridge Express. I enjoy knitting the memories of all these various locations into a project, though I am aware that these are not good photos of either the knitting, which as it grew became increasingly difficult to wedge into the shot, or the places - so to remedy this, here are a few more of my favourite photos from my recent trip to Genoa.

A small girl blowing bubbles by the fountain

A student demonstration on the steps of San Lorenzo cathedral

I found myself drawn to doorways...

... and niches.

Dog on a night bus.

Postcards from Italy

2010-10-07T21:16:00.000+01:00

I'm on an extremely shaky internet connection in a youth hostel, but I couldn't resist the Beirut-inspired title of this post, and sharing a few snaps (sorry, I know I said I'd lay off the Hipstamatic, but I can't help myself!).

On the road again

2010-10-04T16:43:00.000+01:00

I am heading off for a very brief spell in Genoa to do some much needed research. People often express envy that my PhD demands trips to Italy, but I tend to get unduly stressed out about these visits. I find research a rather lonely business at the best of times, and this anxiety is amplified when in an unfamiliar place where I am compelled to communicate in my second language.

One thing that I do enjoy about the process, though, is the long stretches of knitting time it affords, while in transit, and as a substitute for social contact *self-pitying sniff*. This time I shall be turning the above purple perfection into Elphaba (pattern here on Ravelry, beautiful project photo here), a lightweight pullover inspired by the so-called Wicked Witch of the West... that might be why I said I was going for a spell in Genoa. Ahem. If I ever started dyeing yarn (which, incidentally, I have been thinking of experimenting with), one of my colours would definitely be 'Bad Pun Blush'.

A little more Hipstamatizing...

2010-10-01T16:22:00.001+01:00

Sleeve from Tealeaves Cardigan - more on that later!

Top Secret Gift Project!

I'm having such fun Hipstamatizing everything in sight that I've revived my dusty Flickr account, so if anyone's at all interested in these you can check out my stream here. I hope you're all having lovely Fridays.

Hipstamatic (G)love

2010-09-30T11:42:00.000+01:00

I have finally succumbed to the lure of the iPhone, and have been playing around with the Hipstamatic app to photograph my Farinelli gloves.

It's been making me think about photographing knitwear. There is the urge to produce a faithful, true-to-life document, and visually to convey technical details about the pattern and the yarn (one of the most common notes on Ravelry project pages is 'the colour is most accurate in x photo'). I wonder, though, if being too anal about these aspects sometimes makes for boring photos...

The colours in the above photo are wildly inaccurate, but maybe that's ok - to my mind, it captures more of the evanescent 'spirit' of the glove. What do you think? Are they annoyingly misleading?

Kingscot Button Update

2010-09-26T13:26:00.000+01:00

I asked you not once but twice for help choosing buttons for this cardi, and then I repaid your helpful comments with stony silence. Where are my manners? I do apologise - I can only imagine that the suspense must have been unbearable, so without further ado...

You may notice that I have gone for none of the previously photographed options. That is because of the words of a rather brusque anonymous commentator (who upon a little probing turned out to be my mother), which hit home:

I think you should find ones that match the shade of the wool - it's busy enough already, better to choose something that doesn't attract any attention. The green ones are very nice, but a bit too fussy for this garment, I would say.

I had been working on this project for such a long time that I had lost sight of its elaborateness. My mother was right (isn't it annoying when that happens?): this is not a cardigan that needs sparkly buttons, contrasting buttons, flowery buttons, buttons dancing around doing jazz hands. This cardigan calls for demure, slightly pearlescent buttons in a shade similar to the yarn, little blue plastic droplets of buttons that could pass more or less unnoticed through the teal sea twists and bobbles. So that's what it got. I hope you approve.

Snow White... 's no more?

2010-09-24T10:40:00.001+01:00

I don't know if this makes me into a wicked stepmother, but I'm thinking of dismembering Snow White. I love the yarn and the pattern is genius, but the two are not the best match; if I were ever to make it again, I'd definitely use something more washable, that could be comfortably worn next to the skin - perhaps a wool-cotton blend. Such a tight-fitting garment in non-superwash wool is just a bit... hot. And not in a hot way. Also, I made it just a little too short. On the few occasions when I have worn it, I have felt at war with this pullover, as it demanded constant yanking down, or undignified wriggling out of, making me feel like a seagull caught in an oil-slick.

I have not fully decided: this is a beautiful jumper, and the thought of reducing it back to a pile of crinkly yarn does seem a bit heretical. But then, what's the use of a beautiful jumper that just sits in a drawer? I've been considering transforming it into the Estelle Pullover: I think it might get more wear that way (and it would have the added benefit of matching the Meret I made out of the remainder of this yarn). Or are these evil thoughts deserving of a poison apple? What do you think? To frog or not to frog?

Crafty Craft-tea

2010-09-20T07:35:00.004+01:00

Is there a finer accompaniment to knitting than tea? I have recently acquired a celadon teapot, whose capacious china form only increases the pleasure of the combination. I never seen the point of tea cosies; now I have a teapot, all I can think of is clothing it. Just to stick with the theme, I have also started the very popular Tea Leaves cardigan (of which no doubt more later).

In fact, tea and knitting have long been intertwined, and not always in a positive way (see Kate Davies' excellent blog post). How about you, lovely readers - is your crafting tea-fuelled?

9 down, 1 to go

2010-09-19T11:04:00.000+01:00

My Farinelli gloves are only missing one important appendage, so they are one better than the original Farinelli, who was missing two. Do excuse the ballsy wordplay - it just tickles me that I'm knitting something named after a castrato. It has been suggested to me that I make a whole castrato-themed outfit, complete with Senesino socks, Nicolini knickers, a Carestini cardigan, and, in honour of the only castrato to have had his voice recorded, Moreschi mittens.

It's a sign!

2010-09-14T19:13:00.000+01:00

No sooner had I written that last post about needing to expand my colour palette when a rainbow appeared, apparently bursting forth from an opposite chimney. Could there be a more obvious sign to invest in the yarn for a major colourwork project?!

'Deep Greens and Blues Are the Colours I Choose'

2010-09-14T18:36:00.001+01:00

... as evidenced by my last six projects (two of which I have yet to share with you). Maybe it's time to explore some other areas of the spectrum?

I had been pondering on the awkwardness of my knitting life's resemblance to a James Taylor lyric, when I paid a little visit to the mighty Loop in London, which has moved to the lovely Camden Passage, and is now two whole floors stuffed with untold delights.

... and I bought this yarn:

Oh well. Perhaps this is my Blue (and Green) Period - which would sound better in Japanese, as I believe 'blue' and 'green' are the same word in it.

Do you have a colour you can't seem to get enough of at the moment?

Pyjamas and Opera Gloves

2010-09-07T12:53:00.000+01:00

I have just finished one of the Farinelli Gloves (I'm tempted to make a castrato joke, but I haven't got the balls) by Ysolda. I have never knit gloves with fingers before, and I was so proud of my first completed one that I decided to model it in my pyjamas. I hope you don't mind.

Help me choose buttons!

2010-09-06T09:50:00.000+01:00

Kingscot needs closure(s). But should they be the iridescent glass ones at the top, or the green flower ones at the bottom? I like how the first ones echo the shape of the bobbles, and perhaps their more neutral colour would be more versatile. Then again, I love the contrast of the green... I need your help! Sometimes I think that choosing the buttons is the trickiest part of making a cardigan.

Kingscot Cardigan

2010-09-05T09:21:00.001+01:00

I went on a riverside walk yesterday to see the Antony Gormley statues, pick some wild brambles, and take some photos of my finished (but still buttonless) Kingscot cardigan.

I am so utterly delighted with this new addition to my wardrobe, not least because it is the first sweater project I have finished since Audrey in Unst last November.

The design is a fine one, by knitting demi-god Norah Gaughan, with cables and bobbles inspired by gothic windows gently curving to shape the fronts, and rope-like cables snaking up the back. My one criticism is that it is supposed to be knit in many pieces - it even has you knit the button-bands separately then seam them to the body. I hate this kind of construction, so adapted the pattern to be entirely seamless apart from the shoulder seam (if you're interested in the technical details of that, I made quite comprehensive notes on my Ravelry project page).

The yarn is the smooth, soft Debbie Bliss Cashmerino DK in teal blue. This was, in fact, one of the first sweater's-worth of yarn I ever purchased, almost two years ago. I am now much more easily seduced by hand-painted skeins, or small, independent producers, and I would be less likely to buy such a commercial yarn. I have to say, though, that it was a pleasure to work with (apart from the loosely-wound balls that fall apart as you knit from them), and produced an impressively even, snuggly fabric.

This yarn also featured in the stash pledge I made a year ago. I did break that pledge in that I bought more yarn, but actually haven't purchased any more in sweater quantities. I wonder if this is part of what has made me less enthusiastic about knitting jumpers and cardigans - that worthy but also ever so slightly dreary feeling of knitting from stash. Hmm... I appear to be justifying the buying of more yarn - this could end badly! [ETA: I've just realised this is a filthy lie - I did buy some yarn to make a cardigan and completely forgot about it! Probably a strong argument against buying more...]

I still have to decide on buttons for Kingscot - I may be asking your advice soon!

The Treasures of Granny's Button Box

2010-09-04T10:01:00.000+01:00

Centre: the button box. Clockwise from top: general buttons; severed doll head; cluster of shiny silver buttons; two buckles.

None of which, unfortunately, were quite right for my Kingscot cardi (which was what was weighing down the scales in the last post). I think I'll use one of these two options when I get back to my own, Cambridge-based button store, and possibly photograph it without buttons in the meantime.

It was still fascinating to paw through this heavy repository of buttons and bric-a-brac. Do you have anything like it, either with a collection you've built up yourself or inherited?

450g of pure knitted success

2010-09-03T11:02:00.000+01:00

Irtfa'a Shawl (or 'Earning My Wings')

2010-09-02T13:59:00.000+01:00

I went to the Botanics today to take some pictures (finally) of my humungoid Irtfa'a shawl, which has been nestled around my shoulders for much of this manic month.

Above I am spreading out the magical cloak of dreams. Its wingspan is so much bigger than mine; I think of the wandering albatross every time I wear it.

The gardens were in vibrant bloom, and virtually deserted - the perfect place for knittish swishing about.

It was rather tricky to show off its beautiful bigness on my tiny frame and, as always, the multi-dimensional brilliance of Lilith's yarn is difficult to capture.

I would recommend the pattern; I did get ever so slightly bored of the small feather section, but the finished effect is definitely worth the slog. This is the largest project I have ever completed, taking over half a mile of yarn! I feel like I have earned my knitterly wings.

That's shawl, folks.

A Bit of Sleeve-ish Progress...

2010-08-23T12:31:00.000+01:00

Steve the Sleeve is slowly coming along... I can't wait to be finished!

I'm thinking of doing a 'Pick of the Fringe' post, but in the meantime, you can read my reviews here as they go up. Has anyone else seen anything good in Edinburgh this August?

Jock the Sock and Steve the Sleeve

2010-08-17T11:45:00.000+01:00

I have been having a super busy month performing in and reviewing shows at the Edinburgh fringe. In whatever little pockets of time I can find, I whip Jock the Sock out of my bag.

I'm just starting the gusset decreases on the second sock, and I am very much looking forward to having toasty toes this winter!

In slightly more capacious pockets of time, I have been working on Steve the Sleeve:

Steve is all that stands between me and completion of my Kingscot cardigan, which has been meekly hibernating for months.

It has been a long time since I completed a cardigan or jumper - I seem to have been knitting industrial quantities of lace of late - and I have rather missed the feeling of creating a new garment (as opposed to accessory). I have got my eye on several sweater patterns, including the aforementioned Buttercup (ravlink), and several of Kate Davies designs (Manu, and the hopefully forthcoming Tortoise and Hare).

It really is quite a big shawl

2010-08-05T10:02:00.000+01:00

The bath-time plesiosaurus...

... took 231 pins to block...

... and now has a wingspan of about 3 metres...

... that's about the same as the wandering albatross.

Modelled shots to come once I can find someone to take them, and figure out how to stop it trailing along the ground as I walk.

Sock Art

2010-08-01T18:19:00.000+01:00

I've finished a sock! It made me rather grateful for having small feet - it seemed to whizz past after I turned the heel, though it remains to be seen whether I'll fall prey to the dreaded SSS. This is a sock-ish sister to a series of paintings by Martin Creed which I went to see today in a most excellent exhibition at the Fruitmarket Gallery, which slowly grade between colours.

Green Things

2010-07-31T21:18:00.000+01:00

Clockwise from the left: a simple stocking stitch sock; a glistening lime dome from the best chocolatier in the world; a mossy, messy pile that very soon will be a finished shawl.

Quoth the Raven

2010-07-11T13:37:00.000+01:00

What to do when the last thing you knit was a large green shawl? Why, knit an even bigger green shawl, of course! Apologies for the rubbish photo - it's so hard to get unblocked lace to look like anything other than a worrying fungus. The photo also fails to give an indication of the scale of the thing: to do that, I would have had to photograph it alongside, say, France. It's HUGE. The pattern (another Anne Hanson creation) is called Irtfa'a, which apparently means 'raven's wing' in Arabic. This would be a raven of terrifying proportions, the sort that would block out the sun before conquering a city. Though perhaps a little frightening to look at, the raven would have very soft wings, as it made out of an Old Maiden Aunt Baby Alpaca/Silk/Cashmere blend, which I waxed lyrical about here.

When I show people my finished knits, a question that often comes up is 'How long did that take you?'. I normally find it quite a tricky one to answer ('Oh, I've been working on it for about a month, on and off, but really only a little bit in the evenings...'). This time, though, I can measure it by the audiobooks and podcasts I have listened to whilst knitting it: the total currently stands at about 30 hours, and I still have half the edging to go. As I said, it's quite a big green shawl.

White on White

2010-07-11T11:31:00.000+01:00

Staying at my grandfather's house in the deepest, darkest South of Italy, I came across this pillowcase, neatly embroidered with my father's initials. A subtle, textural rhapsody in white, it remind me of the work of Scottish artist Alison Watt.

It is probably the work of my great-grandmother (reputedly something of a difficult character) who as well as embroidering also crocheted fine lace bedspreads and table-cloths at a wrist-achingly small gauge. I love being connected to the women of my family through craft, though it does make me a little sad I didn't get to discuss it with any of them during their lifetimes (apart from my mum, a sometime knitter). I wonder what nifty embroidery stitches my Nonnina might have taught me, or what sewing trouble my Nonna might have saved me, or what knitting stories I could have shared with my Scottish granny. Could Nonnina Antonietta, a tiny one-woman doily factory, have helped me get over my profound stupidity at crochet?

Apparently at my grandmother's death my grandfather found bags and bags of her unfinished sewing projects, which he couldn't bear to look at, and so gave away. I can well understand this, as I find these material mementos rather moving myself; stitched reminders or remainders of their creators.

Do you have any items that remind you of the crafty ingenuity of your ancestors? Or perhaps you were lucky enough to talk to them about it when they were alive? I'd love to hear people's stories on this.

A Home for a Mixtape

2010-07-02T16:51:00.002+01:00

Remember I was working on a cd cover way back in February? Well, I've made several more mixtapes since then, and a few adjustments to the design. I took a few photos as I was making the one pictured above, and hope to work them up into a tutorial over the next couple of weeks (it may take me a while as I shall be in Italy with limited internet access), just in case anyone else would like to house their mixtapes in sewn sleeves.

Dreamy Techno-trickery

2010-06-30T20:25:00.000+01:00

The limitations of my dinky digital point-and-shoot often remind me of what an amazing thing the human eye is. Take this tree, for example, tucked away in a corner of college. Its convoluted branches have grown down to the ground and back up again, so that stepping through them you enter a dappled dome. Whether its boughs are covered with snow in the winter or juicy leaves as now, I have difficulty imagining a more magical place: it seems to have been created purposefully for fairy revels. And yet I took a series of dull, flat pictures of it today; it was only after considerable technical jiggery-pokery that I arrived at the above image.

I also waved my old-timey photo wand over some climbing flowers...

... and some stuff in a skip....

Oh, and in the interest of completeness, I took a video of some baby moorhens. This is the last, I promise - college has no other miniature water fowl.

Ducklings

2010-06-29T19:06:00.000+01:00

My goodness, I didn't realise it had been over a month since I'd posted anything! I have not been making much of late, unlike our college ducks, who have been hard at work making new ducks; I leave you with this video by way of apology for my protracted absence.

Sweet as a Parrakeet Skirt

2010-05-24T21:42:00.001+01:00

I have owned this parrot-y skirt, from the awesome Covet in Islington, for a couple of years. Unfortunately I've never been able to take full advantage of its plumed charms, as the waistband was rather small on me, requiring undignified contortions to get over my aforementioned bahookie. This weekend I decided to reclaim the parrots by making them a new waistband with some fabric left over from a dress I've been working on.

I vaguely followed Gertie's instructions for a full gathered skirt, and found this tutorial on gathering very helpful - I want to gather everything now! Even though I did not sew this garment in its entirety, I am most proud to have made this skirt wearable with my own ingenuity (and sewing machine). I'm quite pleased with it aesthetically as well as practically: the contrasting colour of the waistband seems to make the parrots stand out more. Squawk!

Laminaria Shawl

2010-05-19T19:58:00.000+01:00

I took my Laminaria shawl on its first outing today, to the Old Library, which is not a library, but is one of my favourite rooms in college.

A pattern of heart-stopping beauty, and mathematical genius, knit in 100% cashmere that does not sacrifice stitch definition for softness. If I do say so myself, it is pretty much the epitome of lace loveliness; I can't entirely believe I made it.

The three stitch patterns (the tiny stars, the blossom, the peacock plume-like edging) are all individually glorious, but it is the way they grow out of one another that makes this pattern truly special. I made the 'shoulderette' size, but went up a needle size and did two extra repeats of the first chart because I had extra yarn.

Draped around my shoulders or scrunched around my neck, this shawl makes me feel like a delighted wood nymph. It makes me almost hope for a cooler summer so I can get the most wear out of it.

Ease in Knits (or 'I Stooped to Pick a Buttercup'*)

2010-05-17T21:38:00.001+01:00

Maybe it's the current profusion of actual buttercups, but I cannot stop thinking about this very popular pattern (ravlink). I think I would like to make a long-sleeved woolly version (which would still come in very handy in the British 'summertime'), in this vibrant pink Wensleydale Longwool, which featured in my stash pledge all those months ago.

Daydreaming about Buttercup lead me to think about ease in knitwear. The original pattern is designed with plenty of positive ease, to be a swing-y A-line top. I have seen several beautiful fitted variations on Ravelry with waist-shaping, such as this, but then also love this one where the ribbing pulls in the bottom of the A-line for a slouchy, 'boyfriend' look. My instinct with sweaters is always to err on the side of form-fitting negative ease (about 4 inches of it in the case of Snow White), out of a fear partly of drowning my diminutive frame, and partly of repeating my first jumper experience, in which I unwittingly knitted a garment the size of a wendy house. This attraction to negative ease seems to be common to a lot of knitters; maybe it is in some ways a lingering reaction against the shapeless, unflatteringly rectangular patterns of the 80s and 90s. Perhaps the choice between negative and positive ease can be thought of as a choice between a feminine and a masculine look, the one showing off womanly curves, the other hiding them boyishly. What do you think? How do you go about deciding on a size for your knitwear, or for that matter your sewing projects?

* 'I stooped to pick a buttercup. Why people leave buttocks lying around, I'll never know' - Stephen Fry

Edited for spelling.

Drying Seaweed

2010-05-16T15:01:00.000+01:00

The Laminaria shawl is damply taking up most of my floor space. It occurred to me that it might be quite happy in this sodden state, given that the design was inspired by this seaweed.

Place Mats and Napkins

2010-05-15T22:57:00.000+01:00

Now that the top secret parcel has reached its destination, I can reveal that it contained place mats and napkins. I made the mats in toile de jouy backed with raspberry chambray, using a combination of the instructions for coasters and mats in Bend the Rules Sewing (an excellent book) as my guide. I am pretty pleased with results, though once again humbled by the experience. Perhaps I shouldn't even be thinking of making garments when I'm still fairly inept at ostensibly easy tasks such as sewing straight lines around a rectangle.

For the napkins, I used these directions for mitred corners, and experimented with my machine's embroidery stitches, which was a lot of fun. I read somewhere that 'sewing' might more accurately be called 'ironing' - these napkins certainly bore this out: it took me an obscenely long time to press the double-turned hems, trim the corners, and re-press, then about one minute to whizz through the machine. Anyway, I do hope their recipient enjoys these pastoral-themed table accessories.

Coming Up: a Shawl and a Secret

2010-05-12T15:45:00.000+01:00

Above is a top secret project I shall soon be able to unveil. Also, I cast off my Laminaria shawl last night, and just need to find the time (and indeed space) to block it. Even in its scrunchy, unblocked state, though, I think it may well be the most beautiful thing I have ever made.

Upholstery Braid Headband

2010-04-27T00:32:00.000+01:00

Inspired by Emily Martin of Black Apple fame, I rustled myself up a little headband out of gold upholstery braid. This was a super simple project, but I'm rather pleased with the results - I might post a tutorial if anyone were interested? I haven't yet decided whether to add stars as in Emily's original... It was so easy and cheap that I might make myself a selection; my hair is behaving like a restless animal at the moment, and is benefiting from this gilt caging.

I have been wearing my Haruni shawl and Evolution mitts together a LOT, and revelling in the co-ordination. Above they can be seen in conjunction with an unexpected canine companion.

This was a decidedly hand-knitted riverside stroll, as my friend wore her new Que Sera cardigan. This yarn used to be part of my six sweaters-worth that hung like an albatross round my neck, until I observed that the colour made me look more exhumed than exuberant, and gave it to Simone, who totally owns this shade of yellow. I'm so pleased this lovely yarn has found a good home.

Covered Buttons

2010-04-24T17:47:00.000+01:00

The more I learn about sewing, the more impatient I am to sprinkle my wardrobe with couture-inspired details like bound buttonholes and French seams. The gap between the knowledge I have accrued and the practical skill I still lack in the apparently simple tasks of cutting and pinning fabric and manipulating it through the machine can be a little frustrating. I have been continuing to work on the Sencha blouse, which has been challenging me in all sort of unexpected ways. The next step in the instructions is to staystitch the neckline. I am making version 3, and am quite apprehensive about stitching around that keyhole, and so I put it off to make some covered buttons. I have a whole house of buttons, but these are unquestionably my favourites.

Swingeing Cuts

2010-04-23T12:23:00.000+01:00

Thank you so much to everyone who commented on my last post - it's really great to know that I have some readers who sew: I may well be calling on your expertise in future! Last night, I cut out the pieces for a blouse whilst listening to the party leaders debate on Radio 4. I am so very much in love with this Liberty print fabric - it reminds me of a favourite party dress I had when I was about seven. I was more than a little nervous about hacking it up... I'll be sure to keep you posted on my progress.

My body's too bootilicious for you, Vogue Patterns.

2010-04-20T15:45:00.000+01:00

I have been following Zoe's Me-Made-May Challenge with a mixture of interest and envy. Interest because, obviously, it's a totally awesome idea, building on her Me-Made-March success in only wearing clothes she made herself. Envy because I am very much not yet good enough at sewing to take part (I do not think my knits are eligible, because I already only wear knitwear made by me, which I suppose is an achievement but does not make for much of a challenge).

Rather than weep into a knitted hankie about my sorry lack of sewing skillz, I decided to do something about it.

Enter Vogue V8240, a halterneck dress with a daringly plunging neckline and a pleasingly full skirt. I read through the instructions, and was somewhat surprised to find I more or less understood them, which is progress in itself, as until recently sewing patterns might as well have been written in mystic runes for all the sense they made to me.

Then, however, I took my measurements, and everything started to go pear-shaped...

I am quite well-acquainted with the measurements of my upper half, as I check them quite regularly for jumpers and cardigans. As for the rest of me, I was vaguely aware of being a classic British pear-shape... seeing this translated into a sewing pattern size was something of a shock, though. It appears I am a size 8 at the bust, a 12 at the waist, and somewhere between a 12 and 14 at what pattern manufacturers refer to as the 'Hip', but which I prefer to call the bahookie. Now, I would like to stress that I do not normally have a lot of body hang-ups: I like and do not wish to change my shape. Part of the reason I so want to learn to sew is to fit it better. Late last night, though, as I was debating which size to cut out, I did begin to feel a little bit bad about covering such a wide size spectrum. Was I freakishly disproportionate? Did people wonder behind my back whether I was two differently-sized figures crudely welded together as the result of a cruel medical experiment?

Leaving aside these body issues, this discovery also threw another obstacle into my path towards sewing wisdom. I have traced out the midriff piece, and attempted to graduate from an 8 at the top of it to a 12 at the bottom... I suppose I'll just have to make a muslin to see if that will fit my form. I have ordered Fit for Real People off of the internet in the hope that it might address this issue, but in the meantime I would absolutely LOVE to hear from anyone with a modicum of sewing experience on the matter.

Magnolia Blossom

2010-04-14T13:55:00.000+01:00

Inspired by this clutch of beautiful ttv photos by Alli, I thought I'd share a little springtime loveliness of my own.

These are of a magnolia tree in the Botanical Gardens in Edinburgh, which is currently in exuberant blossom. My friend informs me of an eighty year old lady who calls blossom 'flourishes'; I think I might refer to it as such from now on.

Alhambra Scarf (and Mr Purves)

2010-04-13T19:26:00.000+01:00

... and so the Alhambra scarf saga draws to a close. For anyone who has not been following it through the four thrilling months, this is a pattern by lace wizard Anne Hanson, knit in the buttery-soft Malabrigo sock in the colourway Botticelli Red.

I have waxed lyrical about the colour (which like all reds is troublesome to photograph), but all along I knew it was not perfectly suited to my colouring. Since taking this online quiz, I have become rather evangelical about seasonal colour palettes, and this rusty red is definitely not flattering to Deep Winters. Fortunately, it looks lovely on my mum, and so this scarf has found a happy home on her neck.

Beautiful scarf, gorgeous pattern; slightly boring photos. So I thought I'd brighten up this post with some other snaps of one of my favourite Edinburgh fixtures.

This shop, on St Stephen's Street, is a glorious mystery to me, and I go out of my way to walk past it. It is only open for one half day a week, and caters for a decidedly niche market. Still, if you're in need of an oil lamp, and you're in Stockbridge between 1 and 6 on a Saturday, Mr Purves is your man.

Haruni

2010-04-05T20:06:00.000+01:00

I hastily pinned out my Haruni (Rav link) shawl before scampering off to Canterbury for Easter, and have just rattled off a few frames of it.

I knit this in the remainder of the Dream in Color Smooshy, in the colourway Gothic Rose, that I had left from my Evolution Mitts - I am excited about having a matching accessories set! This was a most enjoyable knit, and an admirably well packaged free pattern. I was rather apprehensive about the crochet cast off, as my nimble knitting fingers turn into clodhopper carrots at the sight of a hook. I managed it, though, and absolutely LOVE the effect: I would definitely use this on another shawl in future.

I'm very pleased with the marriage of pattern and yarn - the leafy border motif reminds me of a Victorian doily, and this bruised, brown-y purple seems like a decidedly Victorian colour: it is the shawl equivalent of a deep leather armchair with an antimacassar.

'I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each'

2010-04-02T23:59:00.000+01:00

Sometimes I think I spend longer dreaming about what to knit while travelling than I do actually travelling. I shall be spending about nine hours on trains over the next few days (I'm grateful that there will be any trains for me to take - I didn't think I was going to make it home this holiday with the possible strike), and so for most of today my thoughts flitted from wherever they were supposed to be focussed to prospective knittish ways to fill this time.

When I really start thinking about matching yarns and patterns, it can become quite an involved imaginative voyage. I had previously seen the green of the yarn above as summer shoots and juicy grass, but suddenly it transformed before my eyes from leaves under the sun to fronds under the water, and I knew I wanted to make a Laminaria. Lots of knitters seem to endow yarn with the faculty for reason ('it hasn't decided what it wants to be yet'), which seems ridiculous until you experience that moment of epiphany, when a clear decision emerges as if by magic from a mire of uncertainty. This one was accompanied by mermaids swimming through the underwater kingdom I was about to create, much like this old Levis advert, but with more knitting.

What's that? You want another gratuitous swift-in-motion shot? Oh, ok, if you insist.

Ah Jonathan...

Two Skeins of Sock Yarn

2010-04-01T17:20:00.000+01:00

I started and finished a shawlette, and I didn't even tell you. How rude. It's the one on the left; I'll get some proper pictures after I've blocked it. On the right is the tiny pile of yarn that is all that stands between me and finishing my Alhambra scarf. So very soon I should have two FOs to show you, or, to put it another way, about 880 yards-worth. It seems my knitting mojo is definitely back...

Gretel Beret

2010-03-25T21:22:00.000Z

I have some new headgear to keep my brain warm while it strains to produce historical thoughts - Ysolda's Gretel beret, from my seemingly never-ending stash of Fyberspates Scrumptious DK.

Don't look too closely at the shameful glimpses of backpack in the two photos above, though I must admit, it has proved invaluable on the long walk to the archive.

For the third time (after my Liesl and Crofter's Cowl), this yarn was blissful to knit - barely spun, slippery-soft udon noodles of silk and merino. It was surprisingly easy to cable without a cable needle, and I think the glisten of the silk content throws the lattice motif into relief.

As with all of Ysolda's designs, this is an extremely well produced pattern. My only minor quibble is that the symbols she uses for cables are a little unorthodox; I found them rather confusing, and for once worked from the written instructions.

It's not easy taking photos of the back of your head...

Genoa: S. Lorenzo Cathedral

2010-03-21T18:53:00.000Z

I have finished a hat, but it was so miserable and rainy today that I couldn't muster the enthusiasm to whip out my gorilla pod and strike a pose. Instead, here are some photos of Genoa's S. Lorenzo Cathedral. It has been likened to 'a giant humbug'...

The image on the bottom right shows what appears to be a small dog carved into the space between two spindly columns, on the right side of the façade. Someone told me a story about it which I have now entirely forgotten, but I expect it was something along the lines of Greyfriar's Bobby, or, for that matter, Hachiko, whose bronze likeness surveys Shibuya station, near my childhood home in Tokyo. These canines are pretty clever at getting themselves immortalised, it seems to me.

Genoa: Porto Antico

2010-03-19T20:15:00.000Z

Genoa in general, and its port in particular, used to have a distinctly unsavoury reputation. It spruced itself up considerably, though, in 1992 to celebrate the quincentenary of sometime inhabitant of the city Christopher Columbus' 'discovery' of America, and again in 2004 when it was designated European City of Culture. Today the Porto Antico is rather a nice place to take a stroll, as I did today.

Clockwise from bottom left: Aquarium and Neptune's Galley (apparently used in Roman Polanski's 1986 film Pirates); Prawns on sale next to the port; the port, taken from up the hill at Righi, with the symbolic Lanterna (lighthouse) in the middle; Renzo Piano's Bigo; detail of aforementioned Neptune's Galley

Though most commercial activity takes place elsewhere now, Genoa's bond with the sea is still evident here in physical form, as well as in popular culture, such as the wistful song 'Da a me riva' by Genoese singer-songwriter Fabrizio de André. I can't seem to find an English translation of the Genoese dialect on the whole of the internet, so have attempted my own (please feel free to correct any infelicities, or wrong bits):

From my shore

only your white handkerchief

from my shore

in my life

your bitter smile

in my life

excuse the lump in my throat

but I am thinking of you against the sun

and I know you are looking at the sea

just off the coast of pain

and I am here, in front of

this sailor's trunk

and I am here looking at

three velvet shirts

two blankets and a mandolin

and a hardwood inkpot

and a photo of you as a girl

in a black beret

to be able to kiss Genoa once more

on your mothballed mouth.

Isn't 'naftalina' a far prettier word for mothballs than mothball?

(Kn)Italy

2010-03-17T23:32:00.000Z

Myself, my knitting, and one ugly but undeniably useful new backpack have been transplanted to Genoa, on the hunt for history. I might blog a little bit about the city while I'm here, as I think it is unfairly underrepresented in current travel literature about Italy.

Yeuch. I can't decide whether this piece of dorsal apparatus makes me feel like I'm 14 and on my way to French or I'm 30 and on my way to a job in a computer magazine.

Body of a King(scot)

2010-03-12T12:55:00.000Z

I have finally finished the body of Kingscot. I was rather worried that, despite my careful swatching, this was going to be a disastrous fit, but thankfully it seems to have worked out alright. I plan to work the sleeves top down for to make this completely seamless (hooray!). Now my only doubt is which vintage buttons to choose - the chunky pearls, which echo the bobbles quite nicely, or the sparkly glass ones, which proved tricky to photograph.

Slow Scarf Success

2010-03-08T12:40:00.000Z

I have been making creeping progress with my Alhambra scarf. The pattern is not thrilling, but it is satisfying in a geometric way to watch the yarn overs and decreases curl apart and curve back together. Since I memorised the lace pattern, I can easily pluck it out of my bag to work on it in snatched moments waiting to get somewhere, waiting for people to arrive, or waiting to go onstage, such as here, in the peculiar Green Room-cum-nursery we used for the Vagina Monologues.

All of those moments have added up over two feet of scarf.

The last scarf I made was right at the beginning of my knitting career, and was an agonising 2x2 rib that so tested my newly acquired skills it made me want to garrotte myself with it. This is an altogether more mellow experience, partly because it is probably for myself (I am not sure it is a good colour on me, so it may end up around the neck of a more autumnal friend) or at least does not have a deadline, and partly because, well, I have just got better at knitting since then. It is nice to feel I am making progress over all in this craft, even if the foolish mistakes I still make sometimes obscure this fact. It is also nice not to have to worry overly about gauge - as long as I end up with a rectangle long enough to wrap around my neck who cares about the exact dimensions? Talking of gauge and mistakes, I have another tale of woe to blog about soon, but for now I think I shall just revel in simple, forgiving scarf-making.

We have a winner...

2010-03-01T14:04:00.000Z

I entered all of the comments I received on my blogiversary giveaway post into the random number generator online, and the winner is....

Katiepops! Here is her entry - I entirely sympathise with her difficulty in choosing just one song:

Every single mixtape I made had Olivers Army by Elvis Costello on it ... there was just something about the angst and passion in his voice that made it the best song EVER, and it was just MY song! If I was making a mixtape now, there would be so many songs that have to go on it ... Oh Lately It's So Quiet by OK GO - soft, romantic, spinetinglingly wonderful ... Hey Ya by Outkast - fabulously retro cool and funky ... and of course Andre 3000s bare chest and six pack on drums - yum! ... See The Sun by The Kooks - just something about that song that always makes me think of one of my friends. Actually there are so many songs that I would *have* to put on a mixtape that in fact the whole tape would be made of must-haves.

Katiepops, please could you email me at priceless_giuls@yahoo.co.uk (yes, my predilection for bad puns extends to my email address) with your postal address, and I shall post your mixtape-y package out to you as soon as possible.

Thank you so much to everyone who took part in the competition, and removed the need for me to get my mum to comment repeatedly under a variety of assumed names to avoid me looking like a loser. I have relished reading every one of your entries - I think I could make a super-deluxe mixtape with all of those gems. This has been so much fun that I am already dreaming of future giveaways, so I do hope you will keep reading.

'La notte porta conigli'

2010-02-28T18:54:00.000Z

'La notte porta conigli' is something my dad used to say. It is a play on the Italian aphorism 'La notte porta consigli' - literally 'night brings advice', or more loosely to sleep on a problem. With the removal of the 's' it becomes instead 'night brings rabbits'.

I found the rabbit motif for free somewhere on the internet, and free-hand sketched out the rest. I am especially pleased with the stem stitch I used here: I do think it makes him look furrier.

I plan to hang this over my bed. I don't know about you, but I would like to have rabbits rather than advice wherever practical.

You still have one more day left to enter the mixtape giveaway competition!

Aw the fun is to finishing

2010-02-27T12:37:00.000Z

You may notice that no 'Finished in 2010' sidebar has sprung up next to the 'Finished in 2009' one. That is because I have not finished anything this year (apart from another Rose Red beret for my friend, which I failed to photograph before dispatching). I don't mind having a couple of meaty projects lingering on the needles for a while, but I have been craving the thrill of completion. It is was partly with this in mind that I started an embroidery project. As is obvious from the photo above, I still have much to learn about this craft (stars are hard!), but the results can be gratifyingly quick, and I am pleased to say I should soon be able to show you a finished object, finally.

Incidentally, the title of this post is a quotation from the Robert Burns song 'Brose and Butter', the Eddi Reader version of which is fine mixtape fodder. I have been thoroughly enjoying all your song suggestions: my itunes is joyfully swelling with them. You still have a couple of days to enter the competition - keep them coming!

Blogiversary Giveaway

2010-02-25T15:58:00.000Z

It is one year ago today since I started this blog! To celebrate this fact, and to say thank you to all of you who have read and commented on my ramblings, I have got together some MIXTAPE-THEMED GOODIES to share with you! Most excitingly, I have one skein of Old Maiden Aunt superwash merino 4ply in the colourway 'Seen the Ocean' (do check out the link: her photography is much better than mine), part of her 'I made you this mixtape' collection that I enthused about here. This is a beautiful, saturated blue, which I found so irresistible that I simply had to get another skein for myself! It would be perfect for a special pair of socks, or a shawlette such as Ishbel or Milkweed, or the undulating lace of Anne Hanson's Rivolo scarf. In fact, I think this yarn would make just about any pattern look ravishing.

When I mentioned that I planned to include the yarn in a giveaway, Lilith very generously threw in lots of little extras - yarnie keyrings, badges, Love Hearts, and an adorable pocket notebook printed with cassette tapes. Thank you so much, Lilith!

The final item in this MIXTAPE-THEMED GIVEAWAY is, inevitably, a mixtape, or rather cd. This will be housed in a sewn cd cover of my own design (the photo above is of a prototype, which may undergo tweaking).

For the chance to win all of this MIXTAPE-THEMED BOUNTY, simply leave a comment on this post telling me about a song you'd like to put on a mixtape, and why (to make the recipient think you are cool or cultured? Because it reminds you of a particular event? Because you just can't stop listening to it at the moment?). Please don't be shy about commenting, whether you've only just come across this blog or have been lurking for a while, whether you live in the U.K. or in Outer Mongolia, whether you are new to knitting or an experienced needle-wielder - all are eligible, all are welcome.

You have until NOON (GMT) ON MONDAY 1 MARCH to enter.

Shall I start things off? I would include the song 'Let's Get Lost' by Chet Baker, because of its effortless cool, its jazzy romance, and the warm, mahogany timbre of Chet's voice. Your turn!

Introducing Jonathan

2010-02-19T16:32:00.000Z

... Jonathan Swift, that is! He arrived in a very exciting, wood-scented package today from Sunflower Swifts, and I immediately took him for a spin. Jonathan Swift made short shrift of a generously-proportioned skein of Dream in Color Smooshy, certainly more so than the precarious acrobatics I had previously been engaging in, holding the skein with my knees. As well as being wondrously practical, he is also a beautifully crafted object. Every detail is carefully thought through, down to the inclusion of five pegs ('in case you lose one'!). I'm so pleased! Jonathan has made my heart beat a little swifter.

Lace or sock?

2010-02-18T16:17:00.000Z

I am still dreaming and scheming of what to include in my upcoming blogiversary giveaway. I have some delectable yarn in mind, but am torn between lace-weight or fingering weight. Which would you rather win?

It'll be a dead giveaway...

2010-02-14T18:49:00.000Z

What with today being Valentine's Day, and my one year blogiversary coming up, it seemed like a good time to show you readers some love. I will soon be holding a giveaway in which you will have a chance to win some of this love. Above is a sneaky peek of one of the prize components, which I am disproportionately proud to say is the product of my sewing machine; I am busy amassing other sweet treats, so do keep checking back for your chance to win. In the meantime, I hope your day has been garnished with old-fashioned romance.

Maybe I should just work on expanding my hands

2010-02-09T00:30:00.000Z

Look at this mitten in progress. Isn't it delightful? The pattern is the Squirrel Sampler Mittens, an endearing folksy design from Hello Yarn that extends to little acorns across the palm:

Aw! The braids, the picot hem, the yarn (that colourwork stalwart, Jamieson's Spindrift) - what's not to love?

Except that it's MASSIVE.

Yes, I was on my way to another Monster Mitten. I did check the gauge, but evidently not very carefully. I was knitting these on 2mm needles - that's 0 in US terms, not so much a number as a yelp of pain - and I think I was in denial that I might need something smaller. Fail, fail, fail. I'm going to work on my Alhambra scarf for a while and sulk. Hmph.

'Grant me thy dear smiles'

2010-02-08T13:04:00.000Z

Sigh. I haven't been doing very well at this 'Play a Day' thing, have I? Actually being in plays has left me with less time to write about them than I had anticipated, or to do much else, for that matter. I have been rushing around half-finishing everything, letting every one down - including you, blog-readers. I was feeling rather blue about this when I happened to pass this miniature Aladdin's cave of a bookshop...

... and was tempted in by their promise of Victorian Valentines. I had never even heard of Victorian Valentines before, but have now become slightly obsessed with them. It seems that the introduction of the penny post in 1840 facilitated the sending of anonymous declarations of love. This shop has an impressive selection, and I was interested not find one with a personal greeting written in it. The sentiments they expressed were also intriguing - a number of them featured pictures of children, and one had a verse that referred to the recipient of the card as 'though on the eve of womanhood/ In heart a very child.' There were also several 'sweet comic valentines', including one with a lower flap which lifted to reveal the dangers of refusing suitors for too long: a wizened spinster shivering by a fire.

I couldn't resist the chance to own a little bit of romantic history. I chose this one, bustling with paper lace and découpage flowers and cupids, with its modest and slightly wonkily printed request pictured above.

I wonder if it has a story - if its original recipient did indeed grant her dear smiles (or anything else...). Anyway, it is a cheery presence on my desk on this grey, drizzly Monday.

A Play A Day #2: stoning mary by debbie tucker green

2010-02-05T15:43:00.000Z

Oh dear, I seem to have fallen behind rather quickly in this task I have set myself. I shall endeavour to catch up with another play I know well...

stoning mary (both title and playwright are deliberately lowercase) takes three issues mainly associated with the developing world, and transposes them to a European context - the script specifies that all the characters are white - echoing Tony Blair's comment at the World Economic Forum in 2005 that, 'If what was happening in Africa today was happening in any other part of the world, there would be such a scandal and clamour that governments would be falling over themselves to act in response.' I acted in a production of this at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe in 2008, and the subject matter made this a difficult one to sell. It was a rainy summer that year, and as I stood on the Royal Mile with a pile of soggy fliers trying to tempt people to see a play about AIDS, child soldiers, and death by stoning occasionally I wished I was in a comedy about funny animals. Though the issues are weighty, however, tucker green explores them with a lightness of touch. The husband and wife fighting over the one anti-retroviral prescription they can afford, the mother and father with their conflicting memories of their kidnapped son, the sisters bickering in prison: all of these are credible human relationships rather than dreary didactic stereotypes.

Ultimately, though, what stands out for me about this play is the same thing that drew me to it when I first encountered it in auditions - the sharp, distinctive brilliance of the language. tucker green wrote poetry before she wrote plays, and it seems to me that many excerpts from stoning mary could stand alone as poems. The Older Sister's description of her hypothetical last request ('... Somethin fizzy. Somethin fizzy n' strong. Somethin that'd (gasps) me. Bottles of it. Crates a it. No glass necessary suck it straight from source, bottle up head back - lash it down. Lovely.') is as effervescent and intoxicating as the drink she is imagining. Mary's speech demanding to know 'what happened to the womanist bitches? The feminist bitches?' who didn't support her cause is lyrical rather than preachy. The idiosyncrasies of the characters' speech did make some of the lines rather tricky to learn ('Cos - "you me" - mighta got sick and tired a takin reverse charged allocated anything from "me you" - that "you me " didn't want.'), but add to a sense of percussive urgency. If anything, the tidy structure of the play - the way three seemingly disparate stories intersect - seems at odds with the messy, exciting language. I found the introduction of the Boyfriend character towards the end, presumably to mirror the Husband and Wife at the beginning and suggest a perpetual cycle of desperation and dependency, superfluous and a little confusing.

It is also intriguing reading back over all the notes I scribbled on my copy of the script, for example:

Wow. That's an acting master-class, right there.

I believed in this play enough to shave my head for the character; the past eighteen months have represented a journey from bald to bob:

It was definitely worth it: I still feel very lucky to have been in this play.

Good female monologues? Yes: Both the Older and the Younger Sister have several, including Older Sister's hilarious obsessive questions about Mary's glasses, and Mary's 'bitches' speech.

A Play A Day #1: Pale Horse by Joe Penhall

2010-02-02T11:18:00.000Z

The first play for my challenge is one which is rather familiar to me at the moment, as I shall be performing in it this week (do come along if you're local!). It is the darkly funny Pale Horse by Joe Penhall, currently perhaps more famous for his screenplay adaptations of The Road and Enduring Love than his writing for theatre.

The action centres around the character of Charles Strong, who runs a grotty pub in South London. Within the first scene he is confronted by the news that his wife - who he describes as 'the very oxygen I breathe' - has been run over by a bus. We follow him as he struggles with the disruption of grief, searching for and failing to find solace in booze, in 'modern medicine', in religion (he comes from a family of agnostics, which he defines as 'C of E for atheist'), and in new barmaid Lucy. Charles is a wonderful shambling bear of a character, at turns warmly charming and terrifyingly violent; I would have loved to have seen Ray Winstone in the role in the original production in 1995. His reminiscences about his late wife - 'Clumping about the garden with her little boots on, her hair all over the gaff, growing things. She was magic with courgettes.' - are made no less touching by the alternative perspective on their relationship offered by one of the drinkers in his pub.

I have greatly enjoyed getting to know Pale Horse. Its dialogue is whip-smart without being smugly clever, and the humour that infuses it adds savour to the sadness at its core. The final scene especialy, where Charles addresses his wife's grave ('Remember the time I tried to leave? We had a ruck in the middle of the night and I got up and got dressed but you'd hidden my shoes... to stop me leaving. But I went anyway... in my socks.') brings me close to tears each time I hear it. If anyone is curious about the particular production that I am involved in, feel free to check out this little trailer our director made with some rehearsal footage (you might have to be logged in to Facebook to see it).

A Play A Day for 28 Days

2010-02-01T11:02:00.000Z

Over the past year or so, I have built up quite a little library of plays. I thought it might be an interesting project to read one of these for every day in this shortest of months, and blog about it. It remains to be seen what form this will take, or whether I will have anything valuable to say about them... I am especially interested in hunting down juicy female monologues, with a view to applying to drama school next year, so if you know of any, please leave a comment! In fact, if you have any favourite plays, even if they feature an all-male cast stuck on a submarine talking about chest hair, I'd still love to hear about them.

There should also be plenty of crafty posts coming up, as I have been doing a lot of knitting and even a small, tentative bit of sewing, so do keep reading even if you have no interest in the theatre at all. Towards the end of this month I will have my one year blog-iversary, so I shall get thinking about what I could do to celebrate that - again, all suggestions welcome!

Farewell, Fairy Vomit

2010-01-25T17:52:00.000Z

I did a bit of knitting housekeeping today, and stumbled across these (remember them?). My dislike of their candy-necklace shades was even more violent than I had remembered. The manic colour changes also all but obscured the Jaywalker pattern I had been using. So, in a few minutes I had turned them from this...

... to this...

... to this (thank you, ball-winder).

I'm not sure I can bring myself actually to throw this yarn away - it is a sturdy German wool/nylon blend that I suspect would last me till the end of time. The question is, do I really want an eternal fairy vomit foot covering?

A Confession...

2010-01-21T18:17:00.000Z

I... I don't quite know how to say this. Maybe through the medium of macro...

No? OK, well... remember that stash pledge I made? Oh, do I have to spell it out?

I bought some yarn. Some really, really good yarn. This yarn, to be precise.

It is an absurdly luxurious laceweight from Old Maiden Aunt, consisting of baby alpaca, silk and cashmere, in the colourway Bitter Bug. Now, you know how I feel about Old Maiden Aunt yarns - I have made them into socks, shawls, and an ill-fated cardigan. Lilith (the dyer) just has an unparalleled sense of colour: this particular skein is a rhapsody in green, ranging from an inky, forest darkness to intoxicating dashes of absinthe. On top of that, there is a really cool concept behind this latest collection of hers:

All of these yarns are inspired by her favourite songs; in the case of my yarn, this Indigo Girls number. I long been a believer in the mixtape as a token of regard, and have given and received more than I could count. As Nick Hornby described in High Fidelity, making them is a craft in its own right, but I love the idea of honouring them through other crafts. As well as that yarn collection, check out Floresita's adorable mixtape card tutorial.

My little brother and I have a bit of a mixtape war going on, with the battle-ground as my mum's car. My inclusion of this Ethiopian jazz classic was taken by both mother and brother as conclusive proof that I had lost this war, which I suppose goes to show that gauging your audience is the key to mixtape success (I still love that song, though). I'd love to hear other people's mixtape stories - has anyone ever given you a really memorable one? Have you laboured over a playlist for someone you've set your cap at in the hope of getting them to return your affections?

What do you do it to?

2010-01-18T13:56:00.000Z

Last night, I got quite a lot of work done on Kingscot as I watched the undeniably execrable yet oddly compulsive Take Me Out. One of the things I love most about knitting is its compatibility with other activities - chatting to friends, listening to music, or, in this case, watching programmes featuring Paddy McGuinness, thirty single ladies and the catchphrase 'No likey, no lighty'.

I enjoy the symmetry of knitting to podcasts about knitting: Stash and Burn, Never Not Knitting, Doubleknit, and the infrequent but inspired Insubordiknit are my favourites. Recently, however, I have been attempting to aurally submerge myself in the Laahndahn accent for a play, and so have found myself sucked in to Eastenders (Archie's murder! Stacey's pregnancy! Roxy getting the Vic!), as well as listening to this excellent cd. All of this has made me curious what other people make stuff to. Have you discovered an exciting new band? Have you been revisiting the early films of Ingmar Bergman? Do you find a zen-like silence to be a better conduit to craft? Leave a comment, and let me know!

Cream-crackered Crafting

2010-01-13T23:19:00.000Z

Late-night crafting and me do not mix, it seems. I had been feeling so smug about Kingscot: 'Why would anyone knit it in pieces when it's such a piece of cake doing it seamlessly?' I thought to my smug self, smugly. I finished the armhole decreases last night and stopped to check my stitch count. Both fronts were A-OK. The back... hang on a second, that can't be right, let me count that again. No, I still appeared to be short not one, not two but TEN STITCHES. Part of me was upset and more than a little mystified. Another part - the fearless, nocturnal adventurer part - saw this as an exciting opportunity to do what this blog's name suggests: to drop stitches, and hook them back to the path of righteousness.

It was rather enjoyable watching stitches that had been bound together reassuming their own separate identities, as I crocheted them back up the rungs of the dropped-stitch ladder. I was nearing the end of my knitting emergency rescue, when I glanced down to double check just how many stitches I should have. And saw that I had been looking at the wrong bit of the pattern. And had had the right number of stitches to begin with. So I had to drop all of my newly-created stitches and re-decrease them, by which time I think I may have been wielding my hook with more than a little frustration, resulting in this slight pulling of stitches. Stitches which had of course been totally fine to begin with.

So this evening I decided to change crafting tack and get better acquainted with - or, rather, introduce myself to - my sewing machine.

Other than giving a foot pedal a nervous little tap in the shop where I chose my machine, I hadn't done any sewing since my last Home Economics class when I was about 13, and even then I wasn't really paying attention (out of laziness masquerading as ersatz feminism). Since I have started perusing awesome sewing blogs, such as 'So, Zo...' (she made pants!) and Gertie's New Blog for Better Sewing, and have become aware of the repository of gorgeousness that is Colette Patterns I have been longing to learn. I bought myself some inexpensive muslin, and screwed my courage to the sticking-place. A cautious straight stitch went fairly smoothly. I tried seaming two pieces together; also ok. This sewing malarkey was not as tricky as I thought! Then the curvaceous form of #26 caught my eye. I popped on my satin stitch foot...

... with a bit less success...

I was a little indignant at that woeful, shrivelled leaf. #26 wasn't going to get the better of me. I tried again... I'm almost too embarrassed to show the result.

I forgot to drop my presser foot, and my fabric was sucked down into the hell-mouth of the needle-plate. Instead of a playful leaf, I basically created a monstrous muslin arsehole. There was a hairy (maybe not a good word to use so close to arsehole) moment when I wasn't sure if I'd ever be able to liberate the offending scrap from my machine. Just as I managed to unwedge it, my desk lamp flickered out, plunging me into stygian gloom. Curses.

So it hasn't been a very productive couple of nights. I know I'm more liable to make mistakes when I'm exhausted, but then it can be hard to find time during the day... have you found a solution to this? I'd also love to hear about other people's nocturnal crafting mishaps, to stop me feeling so sorry for myself.

The Perfect Red

2010-01-12T16:49:00.000Z

I once met a guy at a party who told me that he worked for Pantone, and that his job was the quest for the perfect red; I believed him, like a big twit. It is true, though, that people have long been searching for the perfect hue of this elusive and desirable colour: red was the most fashionable shade for silk in Renaissance Italy, and as such is rather important for my PhD. So many of the words associated with the colour seem magically charged to me: madder, crimson, carmine, alizarin, cinnabar, cochineal, ruby.

I have been working recently with a resplendent red yarn, pictured above. It is Malabrigo Sock in Botticelli Red. I hadn't been aware that Botticelli was known for his reds; perhaps it is a reference to this denizen of the National Gallery's beret.

My pattern is the Alhambra Scarf by lace-genius Anne Hanson, so-called because it draws inspiration from 'the pinwheeling arabesque motif of the kind found in Islamic art and architecture throughout Andalusia and southern Spain'. I love the swirling geometric shapes it produces, so different from typical leafy lacy prettiness.

Cables and Bobbles and Teal, Oh My!

2010-01-10T20:02:00.000Z

I have started work on sweater #2 of the six I pledged to knit from stash. This yarn (Debbie Bliss Cashmerino DK) is in fact the longest-standing tenant of the yasteroid; I am glad to see it finally moving out. The pattern is Kingscot by knitting wizard Norah Gaughan, a Gothic-inspired cardigan awash with cables and bobbles.

So far this has been a most entertaining knit: I am as eager to get to the next development in the cable panel as I might be to find out what happens next in an exciting book. It is amazing how complicated but interesting things seems to go so much quicker than easy but boring ones. The pattern is written for pieces, but I am knitting the body and twisted rib button bands as one piece to avoid seaming - a simple modification, though one that does involve a lot of flicking between different pages. I have been continually thankful that I know how to cable without a cable needle: those on the back twist on every right side row (I have been enjoying listening to the song 'The Twist' by Frightened Rabbit while doing all this twisting of stitches). I have just split for the armholes, making it a bit of an unwieldy beast with three balls of yarn dangling off it, so I have also started a smaller, more portable project which I shall save for a future post.

Edited for spelling!

Nippon Knits

2010-01-07T13:24:00.000Z

image copyright Interweave Press Inc.

I went to see Departures last night, which was the film that took the 2009 Oscar for best foreign language picture. It was beautiful, moving and funny, and I highly recommend seeing it if you get the chance. I spent my early childhood in Japan, and it reawakened a lot of memories for me. All of that, though, is just a lead-in to what I really want to discuss about the film: the knitwear. Noteworthy knits featured in practically every other scene; I frequently found myself leaning over to my cinema-going companion (who is also a knitter) to whisper excited observations such as: 'Look at those matching cabled jumpers!' or 'Bobbles!'.

I was first made aware of the nifty knits going down Nippon-side by this episode of the excellent Stash and Burn podcast. It seems that a lot of Japanese designers have put a fresh modern twist on Western traditions such as Aran or Fair Isle. As their patterns are usually entirely charted, it is apparently possible to make them with hardly any knowledge of the language. I haven't quite got as far as that, but I have been lusting after Japanese Inspired Knits by Marianne Isager (one of which is pictured above). Apart from being a lovely collection of patterns, and a useful English-language gateway to a Japanese aesthetic, this also strikes me as an interesting cultural hybrid - a case of a Western designer drawing inspiration from Japanese designs which were in turn drawing on Western traditional techniques.

I haven't yet bought the book, as my yasteroid doesn't contain anything appropriate, and my one vague knitting resolution for 2010 is to continue to use up that bounty that lives under my bed, but I will continue to dream...

Christmas Knitting Part Two: The Hats

2010-01-04T12:52:00.000Z

I can't remember the last time we had so much snow. Taking a walk becomes a journey through a series of Victorian Christmas cards.

In amidst this winter wonderland, allow me to introduce Exhibit B: The Icing Swirl Hat, by Ysolda Teague, made for my mum in Rowan Cocoon.

I must make a confession: with about a week to go before Christmas, I broke my stash pledge in buying this yarn. I did use up nearly all of it making this hat, though, so the yasteroid has not taken too much of a hit. The combination of a super-soft yarn and an easy yet satisfying pattern was a soothing one during a stressful train journey. I got 95% of it done in the five-odd hours between Cambridge and Edinburgh, so this really is a good last minute gift choice. I was a little worried that this had turned out too big, but my mum likes the slouch, and claims it keeps her ears nicely insulated. Thumbs up for the Icing Swirl!

Exhibit C: Turn a Square, by Jared Flood (of Brooklyn Tweed fame), made for my brother in Rowan Pure Wool Aran.

With its simple, clean design this makes an excellent (and quick) man gift. It is a basic striped beanie, with raglan-style decreases at the crown that make the stripes into a square. I made it with yarn I had left over from making a scarf for him last Christmas, so now he has a matching set! As always for ribbing, I used Ysolda's tubular cast-on. I also followed the instructions for jogless stripes, which are not entirely jogless, but look very neat nonetheless. Sorry I don't have a photo of that detail - my brother was a rather reluctant and restless model... He does, however, appear to like the hat, and reports that it kept him warm up a mountain. Thumbs up for Turn a Square!

I am really glad I took a little break from my Year of Selfish Knits; it does make me very proud to make things that people like and use. I think I have managed to work free from the figurative gift-knitting milking machine I seemed to get myself hooked up to last Christmas. I guess it's about finding a balance, and keeping the gift projects manageable and fun (it will be a very long time before I make anyone a scarf again...). I have relished starting a new thing for myself, though, of which more anon.

Christmas Knitting Part One: Crofter's Cowl

2010-01-03T17:12:00.000Z

With a mug of hot chocolate warming my fingers, a Christmas tree coruscating in the background, and thick snow outside it seems an appropriate, if slightly tardy, time to write up my holiday gift knitting.

Exhibit A: The Crofter's Cowl, a free pattern by Gudrun Johnson, made for my mum.

I made this in the Fyberspates Scrumptious DK I had left over from making Liesl (that cardigan took an insanely small amount of yarn - I think I still have enough for another cowl and a hat!). This is yarn made for cowls: it is stroke-ably soft, and the glow of the silk is rather flattering next to the face, though this is not apparent in the next photo, in which I look a bit like Michael Jackson.

I realised about half-way through the first repeat that the horseshoe lace pattern was the same as that featured in the Meret, and after that I barely had to look at the pattern. Even without that familiarity, though, this was an enjoyable and straightforward knit. It went down very well with my mum; I do feel very fortunate that my family value hand-made gifts (take that, Germaine Greer!).

Coming up soon... two hats

ETA: A very happy New Year to everyone - I hope 2010 showers loveliness upon you all.

And sew it goes...

2009-12-27T15:01:00.000Z

I'd like to introduce my most exciting birthday present; I will be sure to document my adventures with it here. I should also be able to share my Christmas knitting just as soon as I manage to pin the recipients down and photograph them. In the meantime, I do hope you are all having delightful festive seasons!

'tis the Season to be Meret

2009-12-22T20:54:00.000Z

Amid that hypothetical holiday knitting I might just be doing, I found the time to make myself a cheery red hat with the Cascade 220 left-over from making my Snow White jumper. I can highly recommend this excellent free pattern, the Meret (or mystery beret) by Woolly Wormhead. The only mini-mod I made was to knit a small i-cord stalk at the crown, as in my view a beret isn't really a beret without one. It didn't really occur to me till after I'd finished it, but this is an especially festive bit of headgear. Not only is the yarn colour called 'Christmas Red', but the crown decreases also form a rather lovely star shape.

I am most pleased with this wee hat and its unexpected yuletide associations; my birthday is on Christmas day, and I still get ridiculously excited about it.

Why I won't be knitting anything for Germaine Greer this Christmas

2009-12-21T03:38:00.000Z

A friend just brought to my attention this article Germaine Greer has written for the Guardian, in which she rails against the 'grisly parade of handcrafted gifts' that are created by knitters and other crafters and foisted on unfortunate friends and relatives. Now I may or may not be engaged in a little desperate pre-Christmas knitting myself, as the mystery macro-ed up photo above may or may not show, and this really got my goat. I realise the article is meant to be humorous, in the hackneyed 'Oh no! Another rainbow jumper from granny!' vein, but as someone who now knows just how much time and effort goes into making hand-knit gifts, I do not find it amusing.

Even leaving aside the cheap cracks, it seems to me that this is a lazy piece of journalism, and an ill-considered and disappointing response to the craft boom from a very intelligent woman. Greer claims that:

'Craft was not always so revolting... As long as long as people made craft objects for their own use, they were... functional, durable and dignified. Once they began to make craft objects for other people, the work became coarser, the time taken for manufacture is rationed, and the design becomes repetitive and perfunctory.'

There are so very many things wrong with this statement that if only it weren't such a terrible pun I would be tempted to write it off as woolly thinking and call it a night. It seems to rest on a sentimental and slightly patronising imagined past, one in which time for crafting was presumably not rationed, and all items produced were thus imbued with a mysterious dignity. The knitters throughout history who practised their craft to clothe their families, or to make a living, were indeed probably more skilled than the friend who dared to give Germaine a mismatched pair of bedsocks. They were also frequently subject to the kind of servitude that Greer as a feminist surely cannot endorse, as outlined by Kate Davies in this excellent blog post about the poor recompense of nineteenth-century Shetland knitters.

Her take on craft today is equally flawed. It seems entirely counterintuitive, and somewhat egomaniacal, to suggest that one takes less time and care over things made for others than for oneself. Also, obviously, modern craft objects are not automatically 'revolting'; the alternative - something bought from a shop - can be just as hideous as the socks that Greer is so ungrateful for, without the excuse of the thought and effort that went into making them. What she describes as 'the sinister power of the handmade gift' is a reality, if the word sinister is subtracted, because of precisely that thought and effort, which are intermingled with the item during its making, and evident to the gift recipient after it.

Regular readers of this blog may remember that I designated 2009 The Year of Selfish Knits, after turning myself into something of a one-woman sweatshop last winter. As Christmas draws near again, though, I found the idea of nothing hand-knitted under the tree rather a disappointing one. Without giving too much away, I have made a few things. I recognise the fact that the leisure-time and resources required to do this are themselves luxuries, by contrast to the situation of many knitters of the past who knit because they had to and not necessarily because they wanted to. I do feel, though, that to take the time to make a gift is a small, loving act of rebellion against a quick-fix consumer culture, and should be valued as such.

SNOW (and Snow White, again)

2009-12-18T19:21:00.000Z

We have snow! Above is a snow buddha and what appears to be a snow Lenin in Front Court.

My friend Simone and I took advantage of the white wonderland to take some photos of each other's knitwear.

This is Simone's lovely green Verity beret...

... and here are her gorgeous gloves, made in Old Maiden Aunt Merino/Bamboo.

I warded off the snowy cold with - what else - Snow White, teamed with my Rose Red beret and Milkweed shawlette.

I love snow so much!

Where have I gone?

2009-12-15T12:30:00.000Z

I just thought I'd write a quick note to apologise for dropping off the face of the blogosphere. A period of personal upheaval coupled with a few secret and quite possibly Christmas-related projects has meant I haven't really had much to blog about recently. I do hope some of you will stick with me, as I should have lots of content to share soon. In the meantime, I hope you are having happy and crafty times, and I offer this night-time shot of my college chapel by way of apology for my disappearance.