Audrey and Updates

I'm afraid there's no daily outfit for today, as I can't find a photographer. I have ordered a tripod, though, so will soon be able to capture my own vanity!

In the meantime, here are a couple of shots of my latest cardigan project, Audrey in Unst by Gudrun Johnston. I had been searching for a while for a pattern that would look good in black, and this definitely does. Incidentally, the yarn I am using is a rich, full-bodied black (called 'Liquorice'), as opposed to the half-arsed charcoal suggested by the photo above - closer to this:

This will be the first of the six sweaters I pledged to knit before buying more yarn. So far I have been surprised at my success in this vow. Not only have I stopped stashing like a yarn squirrel preparing for an especially harsh winter, but I have also really enjoyed thinking of creative ways to use all the yarn I already own.

On the subject of pledges, I have been woefully inadequate at mentioning my Year of Selfish Knits, but here too I have been doing rather well. I have not made a single thing for anyone else, and have been revelling in all the lovely knits I get to keep. This project was born out of a question I get asked a lot: 'Oh, you knit? Did you knit that?'; I am very happy that now my answer is almost always a resounding 'Yes!'

Neep

 Neep! Neeeeeeeeeeeeeep! No, that's not the sound of a lorry reversing, but the name of the colourwork tam I gave you a wee neb at in the last post.

The pattern is Neep Heid, by Kate Davies - best known for the Owls sweater - and is exceptionally clearly laid out and charted. It is easy to see how people get addicted to colourwork - it was ever so exciting to see the roots, then the neeps, then the leaves emerging from my knitting. I made this in the poetically named Shetland Spindrift by Jamieson's, in Grouse, Sunglow, Leprachaun and Chartreuse. While each of these colours  is beautiful individually, I was a little uncertain about whether they worked together. I initially did the i-cord at the brim and the crown in Sunglow, a pale heathered pink with an orangey undertone. Not only was this not a flattering shade to have next to my skin, but in the loop at the top it also looked uncannily like... well, a nipple. Or, rather, a neeple.

I carefully snipped off the offending bits, as though they were a couple of evil parasitic worms clinging to  my hat, and re-did them in Chartreuse. Much better!

Now I feel much happier about the whole thing. I wore it to a rehearsal yesterday, and someone pointed out that the leaves have a rather Orla Kiely feel.

I look forward to taking my Neep on lots of adventures as the weather gets colder.

                                        

Starting with this one, I thought I might do a small series of daily outfits as an encouragement to blog more - do say though, if you think this is terribly self-indulgent, and I'll stop!

Hat: My own work!

Necklace: b.b.Barry at Covet, Islington

Blouse: Boden (inspired by Emily Martin of Black Apple fame)

Belt: Charity shop find

Tweed Shorts: Jigsaw

Ribbed Wool Tights: John Lewis

Shoes: Pied à Terre

A friend once asked me if I stole these shoes from a Victorian midget, who is now mournfully wandering about calling for his lost brogues. I rather wish I had.

Peep at Neep

Here's a little sneak preview of something I've just finished.

Is that stranded colourwork? Why yes, I believe it is.

Buzzzzzzzzzzz.....

Regular readers may wonder at the fate of my Hungry Bees. Had they swarmed? Suffered the mysterious Colony Collapse Disorder? Left to seek fame and fortune in the Versatile Bee category of the Ambridge flower and produce show on the Archers?

Thankfully, the answer to all those questions is no: they are safe and sound in Cambridge, keeping me toasty warm as I write. As I have probably mentioned before, this is an excellent pattern. My feelings about the Old Maiden Aunt merino/bamboo in which the socks are knit have been well-documented: I have now sported this yarn around my neck, on my feet and, all too briefly, around my torso, and it has always been a delight to work with and to wear.

What took me so blinking long to finish them, then? Why did they hover mournfully so close to completion for such an age? Well, it was mainly because it took me a while to make this decision.

The cuff as originally written featured an adorable combination of a honeycomb and honeybee stitch pattern. This looked as sweet as a gumdrop, but for some reason, in my hands, was about as stretchy as a stick of rock. In my original post on these socks, I had attempted to keep things apian with some double moss stitch, vaguely reminiscent of a honeycomb. This was better: now I could just about get them over my heel, but still with a good deal of wiggling.

Finally I snapped. I loved these socks, and I wanted to wear them a lot, without having to ease them cautiously on, or worry about tearing the cuff. So I ripped back both socks to before I started the honeybee lace, and did a simple 2x2 rib and picot cast off. I was sad to bid goodbye to two endearing features of this design, but ultimately am very happy with the finished socks. They are the perfect golden honey colour.

Oh, I mirrored the pattern on the foot, though I'm afraid I don't remember how I did it, as it was rather a long time ago.

Evolution Mitts

Since making that pledge to knit six sweaters from stash all I have been able to think about has been making little things. 

Like these.

They are the Evolution Mitts by Mimi Fenton, so-called because the lace pattern evolves as you progress down the glove, which made for an entertaining knit.  The yarn is Dream in Color Smooshy in the Gothic Rose colourway.

I like the contrast between the pretty leaf lace on the top side of the glove and the minimalist 2x2 rib on the bottom.

I have also finally finished my Hungry Bees socks (hooray!), but I think those poor neglected honey-makers deserve their own post so I'll just give you this sneaky peek for now.

Un'uccellino fa sempre piacere

This little vintage bird brooch fluttered into my hand in a shop overlooking the Rastro a few months ago in Madrid. I had been in the city for a couple of weeks and was beginning to pick up the scantiest smatterings of Spanish, but it was still a struggle to ask basic things (and then understand the answers), so I was delighted to detect a strong Italian accent in the owner of this bric-a-brac shop; it was such a relief to be able to switch into a language I do speak, albeit imperfectly.

Like most purveyors of vintage goods, this one was crammed with random stuff in all varieties of condition and quality. I was sorely tempted by the above telephone bag - think of the comedic potential! 'Hello, taxi for one, please?' etc. I'm so glad I went with the bird, though: as the shop owner pointed out , 'un'uccellino fa sempre piacere', which might be loosely translated as 'a little bird always goes down well.'

I love his quizzical blue eye, and the alert curves of his wings and crest. I didn't notice when I bought him (and indeed, hadn't noticed till this afternoon) that these clear stones are set in a flower shape. I'm such a sucker for details - check out those little toes clinging to his perch.

Brick Lane

This Sunday, my sweetheart and I took a stroll down Brick Lane. As it so happened, we had inadvertently chosen to come on the day on the annual curry festival, and the street was absolutely hoaching.

There were various modes of transportation...

... and several decorated walls that caught my eye.

Most of all, though, there was FOOD. Not just the aforementioned curry, wafting sweet spice over the crowd, but all manner of other comestibles, from gherkins to goulash, all sizzling in the sunshine.

 

This last exhibit is a deep-fried Hungarian flat-bread with sour cream, cheese and garlic sauce that was one of the most delicious things ever to have passed my lips. I snarfled half of it before I could bear to put it down to photograph it.

It was a superb day.