Archive for January, 2009

Introspective and perspective

January 28, 2009

I’ve been reading other people’s blogs lately and this being the time of year when people assess their goals from last year and make new goals for this year, it’s gotten me thinking a lot about my own plans and hopes.  I suppose this could be considered a State of the Craft or something of the sort.

I had a fairly productive knitting year in 2008, though not a terribly organized one.  All told, there were between forty and fifty finished objects, and a plethora of unfinished or frogged objects.  At the end of 2008, however, I had a real break through in terms of designing.  I discovered some sense of order, which, for a naturally scatterbrained person, is quite a victory, and I got a better sense of what I want from myself in terms of design.

2009, thus far, has been a combination of tying up loose ends and getting started in earnest on some new designs.  I’ve been sketching a lot and swatching a lot and drawing new cables and imagining new lace, and it’s all felt very good.  I feel like I’m coming in to my own style and learning what that is as well as studying the styles of other people with great interest.

I haven’t had much in the way of a higher purpose, though, that I have actually sat down and assessed.  Not that one needs a higher purpose in order to knit well and love it, but it’s nice to think about the whys and wherefores every so often and to understand ourselves better.  Kate at Needled set out, in 2008, to get through a year without buying clothes, and her writing on the goal itself, as well as what she learned from the success, set me thinking about my own goals and journey with the sticks and the string.

Part of my original reason for knitting was to make clothing for my family.  It was a naive goal, not because of any impossibility, but because it was founded on the mistaken belief that making clothing would save money.  Now, in a sense, making clothing does save money – on comparable clothing.  Were I buying handmade couture clothing, then yes, the money spent on materials and time would be a savings.  However, the materials alone are usually more money that I would grant to a store-bought item.  So, clearly, my intent of saving money by creating clothing from scratch was very far off base.

But, as Kate pointed out in her thoughtful essay, making clothes makes you appreciate the true value of clothes and realize that the cheap, disposable clothing we usually deal with is not, in fact, a good deal.  I had some small experience with this before I turned to hand crafting.  When my first baby was born, I found all these cute little boy clothes at Target.  They were very, very inexpensive, and they looked adorable.  I was not particularly well endowed with cash, so they seemed ideal for my purpose.  But the clothing I bought at Target wore out almost instantly.  Trips through the washing machine pilled and destroyed the fabric.  The material stained, no matter how fast I washed it after a spill or spit up.  The money I had saved was no longer a savings when I realized that I had to buy new clothing almost the moment after I bought the first set.  Our culture has not taken a great deal of time to assess the difference between cost and value.

Value is something I’ve learned from my knitting and from my small attempts at sewing.  I’m most certainly not saving money when I knit myself a sweater.  However, in the end, I have something with far greater value than the store-bought item.  I have something in the color and material I want, in the style I want, with the fit I want, something that will last, because I have an investment in it.  When one of my handknits tears, I take the time to mend it.  I have mended store-bought clothing, but never with great will, and I don’t put the same care into it as when I mend something that I made myself.  The end result is that the handknits, better made, better loved, better cared for, live longer lives than the comparable store-bought items.

So value is something I’m trying to consciously consider in my new designs.  You won’t save money in making a hat or a sweater or a scarf, but I think there are a good many yarns out there that offer good value for your money.  Not everyone can spend to get the fanciest materials, but there are many excellent yarns available that are not exorbitant.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about style.  I was a bit of a tomboy when I was a child, and even now, I’m a low maintenance kind of person.  I don’t like to spend a lot of time dressing or applying make up or doing my hair.  I have, however, acquired a very feminine sensibility when it comes to clothes.  I like puffed sleeves, the occasional ruffle, lace, figure flattering garments…basically, I’m a great big girl.  I want something I can pull on easily that will make me feel pretty and well dressed, and that is suitable to a variety of situations and occasions.  I like classic styles that don’t ever go out of fashion, even if they’re never wholly in, either.

So style is something else I’m trying to examine and think about.  A garment is inherently practical, in that it is something designed for use, but it’s also decorative, and finding the balance between utility and aesthetic is the challenge of design.  While not every garment I make is designed specifically for me, I don’t want to design something that I wouldn’t wear.  Perhaps, if I had known how much of myself I was going to commit to this enterprise, I might not have picked the name Knitting Kninja so blithely when I was setting out, as it doesn’t really fit with the aesthetic I’ve described.  But perhaps that contrast is what best describes my personality.  I mean, I still get a kick out of the very idea of ninjas – dude, NINJAS!

The last component of design that’s been occupying me lately is the idea of a unique garment.  Now, truly, no garment is unique.  All of them are variants on the theme of clothing the human body, and as human bodies share a basic blueprint, most clothing has some sort of commonality.  But the variations on the theme can be endlessly nuanced, and when one takes the time to make a garment by hand, it hardly seems worthwhile to make something that doesn’t reflect some little unique aspect of taste or personality.  The most wearable garments are the most basic, but even basic can offer opportunity for self expression, whether in color, detail, or construction.

This year is about design for me.  I don’t know how much time I’ll really have, but I want to learn to use whatever time I have more efficiently, to become more capable, and to offer a wider, more professional range of patterns.  I think we’re going to have fun, too!

Long forgotten items of business

January 26, 2009

First off, thank you so much for your feedback on my Maude Louise problem.  I feel like I’ve got a much better handle on what to do now.  I’ve been working on the pattern last week and this week, and I hope it will be ready soon.  I’m going to go ahead with the experiment.  I want to keep Maude Louise easily available, and I also like the idea that you could choose to pay for the pattern AFTER knitting it, so that you aren’t going blind into the experience.

Above is a photo of Victoire, which I don’t think I ever formally posted on the blog.  There’s a link on the Free Patterns page to download the PDF, but that’s it.  Victoire (Rav link) was a Christmas present for my sister.  She had asked for a cowl, and I really wanted to make her one out of Malabrigo Silky Merino, because I love how that yarn feels on the neck.  My first attempt was pretty, but the lace I used was rather too loose, and I ended up with a giant cowl of craziness.

I tried pinning it to see if that would work, but it looked awful.  Shame, as the lace is really beautiful.  I’m sure I’ll use it again, possibly for a sweater, as I love the way it was so easy to convert to in-the-round knitting, and the way it spiraled up.  It would be very pretty for sleeves or for the trunk of a sweater.

But that’s not what I ended up using, of course.  I have a bit of a private obsession with plaited basket stitch, as I love the way it looks so much like a woven fabric.  I’ve tried to use it before for a failed baby jacket, and I’ve also done some rather secretive experiments with creating the perfect knit spats using plaited basket stitch.  It’s such a tight, firm fabric with so little give that I find it very difficult to use it well, much as I love the look, and it’s a fairly difficult stitch to make.  The actual instructions are quite simple, but it’s physically a very tight and unyielding stitch that can cramp the hands a bit.  I’ve seen a lovely sweater jacket knit entirely in plaited basket stitch, and my hands recoiled as my mind seized on it with alacrity.

Anyway, I decided to make what amounts to a neck jacket.  I’d been very taken with some buttoned cowls I’d seen recently, and it seemed natural to make a weird little pseudo-Victorian wrapper.  Victoire fits under a sweater or jacket very easily and it’s very soft and warm.  The one thing I want to note is that because of the high silk content of the Silky Merino, the button holes on the original Victoire have relaxed from use and will need to be stitched partially shut.  I’d suggest, as a result, using larger and more lightweight buttons than I did if you end up making Victoire out of the same yarn.

The color I used, Matisse Blue, is amazing.  The intensity is just brilliant, and I truly wish this was a color that flattered me, because it’s just so lovely.  As it is, if I can’t wear it, at least I have a sister with black hair and blue eyes who looks amazing in jewel tones.  I have an idea for a grey and fuschia sweater that she’ll just have to have.  (And on top of this, I have a mother who can wear the smoky blue greys that I love and can’t wear.  It’s good, when you’re a knitter, to have family or friends with a wide range of skin, hair, and eye colors, because sometimes you just need to knit with that gorgeous, but unflattering to you shade you found.)

Transitioning right into another long forgotten issue, I’ve kind of been a bad moderator of my Color Coordinated Ravelry group, leaving it neglected for long periods of time.  I was thinking that this year, in an effort both to be a better mod and a better blogger, it might be helpful to bring some of the color discussion over here.  I’m also planning on participating in the Year of Color this round, for the first time, so that should be a topic for future posts.  I spend a lot of time thinking about color, but I rarely talk about it over here.

Darn it!  I had one other long forgotten item to bring up, and in the time it took me to write the above short paragraph, I’ve entirely forgotten what I wanted to say.  This doesn’t bode well for my memory, does it?

I’m listening to Stéphane Grappelli as I type, and it occurs to me that gypsy jazz is the perfect music for writing and for knitting.  It does not distract; it enhances beautifully.  You can snuggle right down into a musical phrase and settle there, concentrating on your own work while enjoying someone else’s.

I have so many ideas floating around in my head right now.  I want this to be the year I act on more of them.  Everything I care about needs a little more attention.

I’ll leave you with a random picture.  Nora is a very new reader and has taken to reading random words over my shoulder when I’m enjoying a book.  (While I was working on Team of Rivals, it was a little startling to be interrupted with a chuckle and, “Ha ha!  Mommy, that’s a funny word!”  The funny word was usually something like “previous.”)  The other night she branched out and went to look at my bookshelf, where she was delighted to find a book with a title that was so very easy to read.

Edit: I just remembered the last forgotten item!  Sometime around Christmas, I accidentally deleted my blog roll.  I don’t remember doing this, but it’s gone.  I figure it’ll be easier to handle as a separate page these days, since it was getting to be so long.  I’m going to add it back in soon.  I just wanted to mention it in part to remind myself that it happened and that I need to put it back up.

Holding pattern

January 19, 2009

Two years ago, flush with the confidence and hope of a fairly new knitter, I asked for the yarn to make a McQueen Knock Off.  It’s not a hard pattern, and the yarn is baby soft and relatively inexpensive, so I had high hopes.  I made some rookie mistakes, changing some of the cables on what I decided would be the back panel when my eye wandered from the chart.  And at some point, even though the pattern was moving along quickly, and even though it was easy and well written, I lost interest, shoved the finished front panel in a drawer, and set my mind to other projects.

A year ago, as my birthday rolled around again, I remembered that I’d never actually finished knitting my birthday gift of the year before.  Back out of the drawer it came, and in very little time, I had a front panel that was free of mistakes.  Both panels felt a little greasy and itchy, though, probably from having been dragged hither and thither for a year, so I washed and blocked them and watched in horror as they grew magnificently.

Discouraged by this accident, I shoved them back in the drawer.  I’ve peeked at them occasionally since, but mostly they’ve marinated in the drawer with other languishing and neglected projects.

It’s January again, though, and I’m through with holiday knitting.  I’ve been opening up drawers and reexamining the neglected and forgotten projects and determining to finish them up even as I work on a lot of new (and mostly secret) projects.  The first neglected project to get attention was the poor languishing McQueen Knock Off.

I’m a more experienced knitter now than I was two years ago when I blithely began this epic sweater.  It took just a few days to knit up the sleeves and just a couple of quiet evenings to seam the whole thing together.  And what do you know?  The blocking tragedy?  Not so much a tragedy.  No, if anything, it fits better, because it mostly grew in length, and now the sweater fits my really long torso.

Of course, it’s not all roses.  There’s some odd bunching under my armpits and I have yet to knit the ribbing that belongs up top and keeps scandal from occurring.  And the amount of yarn I have left to do this can be seen in the picture above: that sad little ball of yarn sitting atop the sweater.  It’s not really enough to prevent scandal.  But I’ve ordered a new skein of Andean Treasure, and now all that’s left on the McQueen Knock Off is a little bit of waiting, which it can’t mind much, as it’s become thoroughly accustomed to it by now.

Also in a bit of a holding pattern is the rewrite for the Maude Louise pattern.  Now, I’m working on it, but I’m also in a bit of a quandary over it.  I want to keep the pattern free.  However, I also am becoming aware, as I’m getting more organized and practiced at pattern writing, of how much time it takes me, how much work it is, and how time spent on a pattern like Maude keeps me from doing other things I could be doing.  Since I’m returning to school this month, time’s become precious to me.  Anyway, I wanted to put forward an idea I had about the Maude Louise pattern, and any feedback you have would be appreciated.  I don’t know how possible this is, but my thought was that I would keep Maude Louise free, but with an optional donation button as well.  It seems wrong to take what has long been a free, and incomplete pattern, and to begin charging for it once it is complete and errors are corrected.  At the same time, there is a lot of work involved in writing a pattern, and Maude has a lot of variables to account for and correct for.  I don’t think I’ve seen a pattern offered in this way, and I could see some ways it could be taken amiss.  However, I wanted to put it out there and ask what people thought, because it seems like a pretty good way to me to deal with the problem of work involved in designing and still keep the pattern easily available.  Any thoughts you have would be much appreciated.  I’m not sure if the donation option is worse than charging a small fee for the pattern, but an overly small fee brings me a bad feeling of undervaluing other designers.  I’d rather offer a pattern free than undercharge for it, and thereby drive down both the price and value of patterns that take designers many hours of work, much of their own money, and that, ultimately, they are not likely to make a big return on anyway.

So that’s the quandary.  I’m not terribly comfortable talking about or even thinking about money, which probably explains why I haven’t got all that much.  It feels indelicate to broach this subject at all, but it’s a real issue, and it’s one where I truly think I’d benefit from the input of others, designers and knitting consumers alike.

Oldening, debauchery, and yarn!

January 16, 2009

Sorry for the long radio silence.  I haven’t a good excuse, except that some of my current knitting is secret, but even that isn’t a good excuse, as I have plenty of non-secret knitting going on as well.

I’m 30 now, which sounds awfully much like a true full on adult.  However, I didn’t behave much like an adult on the day itself.  Some background is needed.

I’ve always been a party animal, if by “party animal” you mean, “chick who left the party with drinking going on early and went to a friend’s house to drink hot chocolate”.  I’m the kid who never needed the after school specials because I was too busy wandering about, blithely being a goody two shoes without even trying.  Oh yeah.  I was fun.

These days, I go out for a cocktail once a month with fellow knitters, and in between, I drink wine with dinner a few times a month.  I enjoy the occasional alcoholic beverage, but I’m still not much of a drinker.

So, anyway, on the actual day of my thirtieth birthday, my sister called me up and said she wanted to take me out for a drink when I had some time.  I’d had a quiet day at home with a somewhat sick child, so I said I could go out that evening.  After a dinner of Mexican-Afghani food (it exists!) and a big slice of peach pie (cake is inferior to pie) my sister and a couple of her friends came around to pick me up.

So, we get to the bar and a man greets us with the news that the bartender is currently taking a short break, but should be back soon.  He informs us that he can sing like a wookie, and would we like to hear it?  Erin (my sister) tells him that it’s my thirtieth birthday, and he congratulates me, tells me I don’t look a day over thirty, and then proceeds to sing as a wookie.  I don’t quite know how to describe this, except that it was a song, with lyrics changed to be more wookie-ish, punctuated with wookie yelps.

The bartender comes back in and I order some sort of incredibly girly drink involving Hendrick’s gin, crushed cucumber, muddled mint, tonic water, and lime.  The lime’s a little overdone, but it’s nice and cucumbery.  We move to the couches, and then I make a critical mistake and order as my second drink the only other cocktail I know I like: a dirty vodka martini.  These are good, but don’t go very well with cucumbery refreshing drinks.

Anyway, once the bartender hears that it’s my birthday, the martini is on the house.  Oh, and they use the best vodka they’ve got.  It’s all very nice, and I sip my martini and regale my companions with tales of giving birth, which are no doubt scintillating and well modulated and just what folks drinking in a bar want to hear.

At this point, I’ve reached my limit and am aware of it.  However, Erin and friends say they want to buy me another drink, and in a combination of being grateful and being stupid, I say, “Sure, anything, as long as it’s not too sweet!”

Shortly thereafter I am the proud recipient of a Cosmopolitan.  This is pink and tastes of grapefruit, and really, really does not go well with a dirty vodka martini.  I drink it.  I do not especially like it, but, since my judgment is now impaired, it becomes crucial to me not to criticize what is, in effect, a birthday gift.  I say I like it a lot.

At this point, I can tell that I am yelling some of the time, but I’ve either become really, really witty, or really, really stupid, and I can’t tell the difference.  The more I drink, the more similar these two things seem.  I wander into the bathroom and the world begins a graceful tilt to the left.  I walk into the wall, the toilet, the sink, but somehow manage to wash my hands and get back to the couch.

And this is when I lose all sense of perspective and say, “Sure!” to another Cosmo.  I know I’m being loud and weird and unbalanced and that I didn’t like the last Cosmo I had, but hell yeah, I want another one!

I drink the fourth drink and now my witty conversation turns into pretty much a mantra: “I’ve never drunk this much in my life, never,” repeated over and over again at a slow but steady pace.

Erin and company help me out to the car, and I continue to repeat my mantra all the way home, punctuated with commentary on what I can see out the car window.  I am now rendered completely stupid, like I’ve had a liquid lobotomy, but I feel good, very cheerful.

Erin delivers me to a bemused Mr. Kninja, and they laugh a bit and then Erin takes off.  Mr. Kninja takes me to our room and is attempting to help me get into pajamas when suddenly, I no longer feel cheerful.  At all.  I feel very, very sick.  Before I can move, the drinks, the pie, the Mexican-Afghani food – it all begins a return journey.

Mr. Kninja drags me to the bathroom where I spend a good half hour or so worshipping at the altar of the porcelain god.  He later tells me that during this time he talked to me about Nixon and Haldermann, assuring me, puzzlingly, that this was the only thing that made sense to do.  I do not hear him.  I hear only my new mantra, repeated fervently and with absolute conviction every moment spared from retching.  It is, “People do this?  For fun??  Why do they do this?”

The bathroom is spinning so fast that I feel like I’m on Hell’s Teacup Ride.  I spend what seems an age there, and then, in a development I only partially remember, I drag myself into the hall and collapse.  Mr. Kninja finds me there and tries to get me to bed, but I wave him off, saying, “Please, please, I don’t want to throw up again.”  He gives up and covers me with a blanket.

You can imagine the next morning.  I wake up with my first ever hangover.  Serving a glass of milk to Nora causes me to run to the bathroom and throw up again.  The world remains unsteady all day, despite the fact that I’m drinking a lot of water and trying to eat small amounts of salty foods.  As a matter of fact, the hangover lasts for two days.  Poor Erin calls and feels very guilty, having never suspected that I am both a wuss and totally stupid.

So that’s how, on my thirtieth birthday, when I was definitively old enough to know better, I got absolutely shitfaced for the first (and hopefully only) time in my life.  A number of people have since told me, “Well, you have to experience it at least once in your life.”  I strongly, strongly disagree.  I do not think I ever needed to experience that.  The only upside I can see is that any speeches I later deliver to the kids on the dangers of binge drinking will acquire a realism and fervency that I never understood the need for before.  Oh, and now I know that my limit is two.

I promised (pictorial) yarn in my title for those who sat through this tale of debauchery, so here it is: My prizes from the Malabrigo Junkies contest arrived, much to my delight, and I’m enjoying them muchly.  (Two pictures are taken with a birthday present from my dad: a new camera lens!  I’m wanting to use it all the freaking time, and I apologize to my Flickr/Ravelry friends for all the new stuff I’m inflicting on them in a constant barrage as a result.)

Viena in Silky

Silky in Viena

Sock in test color, possibly Indiecita

Sock in test color, possibly Indiecita

Worsted in Purple Lime which is neither purple, nor lime

Worsted in "Purple Lime" which is neither purple, nor lime

Nora requested a “circle blanket” out of the last, and so I started knitting it using EZ’s pi shawl pattern.  It’s pooling something awful and looks terrible, so I asked Nora if I could rip it out and make her a blanket of squares (knit on the bias to break up the color better) but she loves it.  At this point, I’m soldiering forward, but I may keep trying to talk her into squares.  I don’t know very well what to do with highly variegated yarn, but I know this is not it.

The upside is that I can call the blanket Peach Pi.

The upside is that I can call the blanket Peach Pi.

The reverse side looks a little better, though, so maybe it will be OK.

Peach Pi in reverse

Peach Pi in reverse

One last thing: Yes, I am farther behind on emails than any person has a right to be.  If I don’t catch up to you, I am very sorry, but it’s truly just gotten ahead of me over the holidays.  I hope you all are well, and I’ll be writing more often and with more depth very soon.

25 Knits from 2008

January 1, 2009


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