Hipstamatic (G)love

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

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?

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

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

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!

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'

... 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?