Author Archives: Kate

About Kate

Edinburgh-based writer and designer.

steeks 2: reinforcing and cutting

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In this post I’m going to show you my preferred method for reinforcing a steek before cutting. My favourite method is the crocheted steek. Other methods are available, and I’m definitely not saying that this one is the “best” or the most “valid” or anything — it is simply the method that I like, and that I happen to use. I like it most because it creates a neat and flexible edge that remains at the same tension as the knitted fabric. I also like this method because the crocheted chain seems to ‘grab’ and contain the cut edges of the steek, squirrelling them away in a very pleasing fashion. Done well, there should be no “raw” edges, no loose ends of fraying yarn. All very reassuring for the nervous, novice steeker – and hopefully you’ll see what I mean in a moment.

Here’s a close-up of the swatch, which uses the Peerie Flooers motif. (This motif also features on a new (steeked) cardigan pattern which will be released in a week or so).

On the swatch above, you can see the steek stitches worked in stripes, sitting in the middle of the picture. A crocheted steek is always worked over an odd number of stitches — here, I’ve used five — and it is generally worked in a stripe or a checkerboard pattern. I like to work the five stitches in a striped sequence of background, contrast, background, contrast, background. That way you can see the central and two flanking stitches relatively easily. Your crocheted reinforcement will be worked over these three stitches.

Before you begin, weave in all your loose yarn ends to the back of the work. Place all of your weave-ends a few stitches to the left or right of your steek – that is – don’t weave in the ends to the back of the steek itself. This is to ensure that all potentially-fraying bits of yarn are sitting well-away from where you are going to cut.

Here are the steek stitches again. If you click on the picture below, you’ll see that I’ve numbered them 1 to 5 — stitch 1 to the right, and stitch 5 to the left, following the right-to-left direction of the knitting.

Here are charts that show the steek in the same colour pattern as the swatch, with the stitches numbered underneath, 1 through 5. Chart B has an arrow pointing to the centre stitch – stitch number 3. You are going to cut down the centre of this stitch later (as illustrated by the pink cutting line in chart D). Chart C has arrows pointing to stitches 2, 3, and 4. These three stitches are where you are going to work two chains of double (American single) crochet: the first chain will be worked between the front (left-hand) leg of stitch 2 and the back (right-hand) leg of stitch 3; and the second chain will be worked between the back (right-hand) leg of stitch 4 and the front (left-hand) leg of stitch 3.

I like to use a crochet hook a size or two smaller than the needle I used for knitting (here I’m using a 3mm crochet hook on a 3.25mm swatch). I also like to use a yarn that won’t break when working the crocheted reinforcement. Here I’m using a good strong sock yarn.

Now, make a slip-knot and place it on your hook.

Take your hook and push it through the bound-off edge at the top of the swatch, right through the centre of stitch 2.

Pull a loop through (2 loops on hook)

Pull the yarn through again, this time bringing it through both loops, securing your sock yarn to the bound-off edge of the swatch (1 loop on hook).

Now it is time to start reinforcing.
A) Working into the first row down from the bound-off edge, push your hook under the front leg of stitch 2 and the back leg of stitch 3 (3 loops on hook: 2 knitted ‘legs’ and 1 crocheted loop)

B) Now pull the working yarn through the two stitch-legs (2 loops on hook)

C) Pull the working yarn through both loops one more time. (1 loop on hook). You have now made one reinforcement stitch.

Continue in this manner, repeating steps A through C for every row of the swatch, pushing your hook under the front leg of stitch 2 and the back leg of stitch 3 each time. When you get to the bottom, secure your crochet chain to the cast-on edge of the swatch through the centre of stitch 2, and fasten off. If you look at your swatch from the side, this is what you see.

The loops of the crocheted reinforcement run through stitch 3, pulling it away from the centre of the steek and connecting it to stitch 2. You can also see the other leg of stitch 3 sitting next to stitch 4. This is where you are now going to work your second reinforcement.

Turn your swatch 180 degrees.
You are now going to work another chain in the opposite direction — from the cast-on edge to the bound-off one.
Push your hook through the centre of stitch 4, and fasten your sock yarn to the cast-on edge.
Working through the back leg of stitch 4, and the front leg of stitch 3, repeat steps A through C above, for every row of the swatch.

Here you see the second reinforcing chain beginning to emerge.

. . . and here are the two complete chains, lying parallel to one another.

For ease of cutting and neatness of finish, I have two top tips.
1) Do not work your crocheted reinforcement more than once into the same pair of stitches. It is tempting to do this, as logic would seem to suggest that more reinforcing is better, and should make the cut edge stronger. But, the opposite is actually the case. If you work more than one crocheted stitch into the knitted ones you produce a curiously rippling crocheted chain that refuses to sit flat and flush against the knitted fabric. With more crocheted stitches, the cut edge becomes flappy and difficult to deal with, rather than remaining neat and easily contained.
2) Make sure you turn your work 180 degrees before working the second reinforcing chain. That is: the first chain should be worked from top to bottom, and the second from bottom to top. This ensures that the front and back legs of stitch 3 are both pulled away from the centre of the steek, making it much easier for you to see where to cut. . .

. . . thus.


NOW THE FUN BEGINS: CUTTING TIME!!!

If you carefully pull the two crocheted reinforcements away from each other (as in the photo above), you will see a ladder of knitted strands running up the centre of stitch 3.

Take a small, sharp pair of scissors and cut each strand of this ladder, taking care not to cut the crocheted reinforcement.

Here is the steek with a few strands cut. . .

. . . here are the two edges beginning to divide from one another. . .

. . . and here’s what it looks like from the reverse. Can you see any raw ends? No, nor can I. That is because the crocheted reinforcement has magically squirrelled them away.



WHOOT! You just cut up your knitting!

From the top, the reinforcement looks like a normal crochet chain.

From underneath you can see how it grabs the edge of the steek.

The edge is clean, secure, flexible and very stable.

BINGO!

Right then, steekers, I think that’s all for today.

In the final installment of this series, I’m going to show you how to further secure and contain the cut edges of your steek using a technique that I’ve called the “steek sandwich”. This technique features on my forthcoming cardigan pattern, where it is used to create neat facings at the front edge openings. Until tomorrow, then!

steeks 1: introduction

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This is the first of three posts looking at steeks and how to reinforce, cut, and finish them.

I thought I’d start right at the beginning: what is a steek?

Put simply, a steek is a small bridge of knitted stitches that are additional to the main pattern. This bridge enables the knitter to work seamlessly, and continuously, in the round. (Most knitters find that colourwork is generally much easier to execute in the round because there are no purl rows, and the pace and flow of the work is smoother.) On a design like my Rams and Yowes blanket, the steek bridge means that, instead of knit / purling back and forth, the knitter works the blanket as one large tube. When the knitting is complete, the steek bridge is reinforced, cut down the middle, and the tube is thereby transformed into a flat piece of fabric. Stitches are then picked up around the edges, and an envelope facing is created which contains the cut edges of the steek.


(Helen Stout of Busta, Shetland, knitting a Fairisle gansey).

On garments, steeks can be used to create armscyes, neck openings, pockets, or cardigan fronts. In the photo above, you can see that Helen Stout has steeked the armscyes of this gansey. Later, she will cut the steek , and pick up stitches around the armscye in order to work the sleeves (or edgings, if it is a vest) top-down.

My Tortoise and Hare sweater uses steeks in a similar manner. The knitter works the whole sweater in the round, adding steek bridges for the neck and armscye openings. These are reinforced and cut, sleeves and edgings are added, and the steek facings are turned to the inside of the garment.

Over time the facings felt and merge into the fabric, and the steeks simply become one with the rest of the garment. This works particularly well if the garment has been knitted in a nice woolly wool, like a Shetland. You may remember a post I wrote a while ago about this Shetland cardigan, which is steeked at the front opening and armscyes, and has seen many years of wear.

Inside the armscyes, the steek has become one with the rest of the fabric and is now virtually invisible. Magic!

Steeks are easy and tremendously enabling to work, yet for many knitters, it seems that they represent some sort of final frontier. I have met accomplished knitters – the kind who would not bat an eye before tackling some fiendish Orenburg lace – but who are terrified of steeking. This is not because steeks are in any way complex or difficult to execute, but simply that they involve taking scissors to your knitting. Horrors!

But chopping up your knitting is nothing to be afraid of. In fact, I take scissors to my knitting on a daily basis. Some of you may be appalled at what I’m now going to show you . . .

Here are some swatches I knitted up last week. When designing, I knit up a lot of swatches, and because most of my patterns are worked in the round, the swatches are too. I generally cast on a wrist or head-sized number of stitches, work it in the round and then, when I’m done . . . I cut it up. This allows me to separate parts of the swatch from other parts. So, in this example, the green swatches are the beginning of an idea for a hat. The crown and edging I’d charted didn’t really work with the rest of the patten, so I just cut those bits away. I don’t steek or reinforce the fabric in any way at all before cutting – I simply chop it up with a pair of sharp scissors – and then I pin the bits of the swatch I remain interested in on my swatch board. Here is the cut edge of one swatch I remain interested in.

Please note that there is no unravelling, stitches are not popping out all over the place and nothing dreadful is happening.

One of the many interesting things I saw at Shetland Wool Week last year were some examples from the Shetland Museum’s collection of colourwork swatches. Some of these had been worked separately, but others had simply been cut from larger swatches, or, in some cases, from whole garments (from which the knitter wanted to preserve the pattern). As you can see, these swatches are completely stable pieces of knitted fabric. They are not unravelling or disintegrating in any way.

While I don’t suggest taking a pair of scissors and wantonly chopping up your knitting, I am saying that for any reasonably adept knitter, steeks should hold no fear.
If you are still unsure, remember that:
1) Steeks are reinforced before cutting, so the cut edge of the fabric is stable and secure.
2) Steeks are cut on the vertical and
3) knitted stitches really do not want to unravel along a vertical cut edge. (Stitches “like” to unravel horizontally).
4) Finally, stitches like to stick together.

This is especially the case when you are working with a grippy or a sticky yarn — of which a woollen-spun Shetland is an excellent example. So if you are in any way nervous about steeking, then I would suggest that you stick with a sticky yarn (choose a woollen -spun yarn with a ‘halo’) and avoid smooth, shiny yarns — ie, those that are superwash-treated, those that are worsted spun, or those with long smooth fibres, like Alpaca.


(AVOID ME!)

In the next post, we’ll get down to business, reinforcing and cutting a steek.

twenty two

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Twenty two is . . .

. . . the circumference in inches of my new millinery block. I have been on the look out for one of these for a while and am extremely pleased to have finally found one. Score! Clearly I now need to make a hat for it.

The past few days have held their frustrations, but the fog of fatigue is finally lifting, and now the weekend is shaping up very nicely. Tomorrow I intend to write a couple of tutorials about steeking, so I will be back then to cut up this swatch with you. Hope you are enjoying your weekend!

b r b

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Just popping in to say hello. I have been under the weather for the past week, and am now really rather unwell, and a bit grumpy to boot. I think I was getting used to my “normal” being a wee bit better than this . . . now, suddenly, I am back to feeling too tired to dress myself and it is really frustrating! There are things to be done!

At least there are some things which don’t require too much physical effort. Like playing around with this soft, Springtime palette, for example. . .

I often find myself feeling grateful for the solace-giving, restorative powers of sheepy wool and needles. When one is feeling ropey, knitting really comes into its own, I think.

Steeks!

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I’ve just returned from a lovely weekend in Dublin, where I was teaching a workshop at one of my very favourite yarny places, This is Knit. The shop has recently moved into new premises in the Powerscourt centre.

I always feel welcome at This is Knit.

Upstairs, on the mezzanine, there is a great teaching space. I gave a short presentation . . .

. . .and we all got down to work.


At cutting time, silence descended. . .


Ta-Da!

We then made neat facings for our steeks, using a method which I have called the “steek sandwich.” This simple technique features on a couple of my forthcoming designs, one of which will be released toward the the end of this month.

I enjoyed the workshop tremendously, which was really something of a relief. It was my first teaching experience since January 2010 (the last class I taught was, in very different circumstances, on this day). Shortly afterward, I had my stroke, and the rest you know.

I realise I’ve not been talking so much about my health of late. This is not because I suddenly feel better, or anything, but somehow, for whatever reason, at the moment I’m finding it more useful to just try to get on with things rather than dwell on them. I am not ignoring my limitations – on the contrary, they determine how I live life every day – but I do find that I have a tendency to become frustrated if I focus too much on these issues. I have many other things to think about right now – I’m enjoying what I’m doing and life is largely very good. A while ago, someone asked me what I missed about academia. I shocked myself by answering, quite truthfully, that there is not a single thing that I miss about my previous position. Indeed, despite the awful hideousness of having had a stroke and the many difficulties attendant on the process of recovery, weighed in the balance, I would say that I am much, much happier supporting myself through my own creative endeavours than I ever was working for a University.

In any case, I feel that I’ve crossed another hurdle this weekend. And, as on a previous occasion, my friends in Ireland have helped me to cross it. I was happy teaching a workshop at This is Knit because I knew that, if I had a “bad” day and found myself unable to turn up, then both staff and pupils would have understood. This is not always the case, though, and one of the most annoying things about my present circumstances is having to remain cautious about putting myself in situations where my health issues might not meet with the same level of understanding.

Anyway, without making any sort of fuss about it, This is Knit did everything they could to put me at ease, and I’m very grateful. Thanks also to the lovely knitters at the workshop, who made the occasion a genuine pleasure for me. Before I left, Lisa and Jacqui presented me with this beautiful shawl pin, the work of local designer, Eimear Earley. Inspired by brooches in the archeological collections of the Museum of Ireland, Eimear’s pin was commissioned by This is Knit, and is just one of many examples of how the shop supports and fosters creative talent.

Thanks for a great weekend, ladies. I’ll come back any time.

Edited to Add: having received a few enquiries about the shawl pins, you can find them here.

Wester

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We spent the weekend up in Wester Ross. This is a truly beautiful part of the world.

And despite it being a holiday weekend, it was also incredibly quiet. For two days, we had this glorious landscape pretty much to ourselves.

One of the many lovely things about this area of Scotland is its native woodland. The trees here are many hundreds of years old, and were once part of the ancient Caledonian forest. Visitors to Scotland often think that dense plantations of sitka spruce and lodgepole pine are what makes up the “Scottish” forest but this is not the case. In fact, such plantations are of relatively recent appearance, many being the result of a Thatcherite loophole, which, a few decades ago, allowed the wealthy to shelter capital from taxation by investing it in forestry. Large swathes of the West Highlands, Sutherland and Caithness were covered with densely-planted non-native species so that Terry Wogan could continue to line his pockets.

To get a true flavour of the old Caledonian forest – less than 1% of which survives – then you need to go somewhere like Beinn Eighe, where the native woodland has been protected since 1951.

Scots pines are the ecological backbone of a woodland environment that supports many important species: capercaillies, pine martens, red squirrels, Scottish crossbills.

Some ancient pines remain short, hugging the hillside, while others grow tall and majestic. Together they lend the landscape great variety and drama.

. . .perhaps particularly on a murky, misty day. . .



. . . and these trees are just as impressive at close quarters.

I remember, on childhood holidays, how much I enjoyed collecting pebbles. The best pebbles were always wet – found in rock pools or at the waterline. When I brought my treasures home, I was often disappointed in how their bright colours faded to grey as they became dry, so I took to storing them in a bucket of water, in order to admire them as I’d found them. Many people, I imagine, don’t like being out and about in the rain, the mist, and the wet. But to my mind, they are missing something – water lends a clarity to objects that is really pretty amazing.





And a wet walk is just fine, if you have a cosy van to dry out in , some tasty fare, and a delicious glass of cherry perry to enjoy afterwards.

Thanks for the perry, Jen! Slainte!

machine

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For one reason or another, I am currently unable to drive. I am also unable to ride a bike because, like many folk who have had a stroke, my balance is appalling. It is more than two years since my stroke, 26 months since I have gone anywhere under my own steam. . .

until today . . .

If I look like a terrified toddler on its first machine, then that is really how this felt. In fact, in a way, it was my first time on wheels – - at least for the neurologically re-wired left side of my body. Having never done this before, my left arm and leg had no idea what they were doing. I have exercised on Tom’s stationary turbo trainer, but a stationary bike is very, very different to a moving tricycle.

The trike is extremely stable and sturdy – exactly what I need. The whole of my left side is much weaker than my right, and, because my left foot is so wonky and unstable it simply refuses to stay in one place. Tom tethered my left boot to the pedal with a firm clip, so I was safe to let my right side start things off. Once my right leg had picked up some steam, the left one figured out what to do.

None of this was easy – because my left arm is much weaker than my right, my steering was (ahem) a bit erratic. And the physical and mental effort needed to get my left leg to push down is quite immense – I tried and failed to get up a small hill.

But, despite all these difficulties, I was having FUN.

Moving at speed on a machine after pootling about unsteadily and very slowly for two years feels quite amazing.

I think it will be a while until I’m able to ride about on my own – but then there will be no stopping me!

Hope you all have a lovely weekend however you are spending it!

River Almond Walk

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Hiya! It is I, Bruce. Today I enjoyed an excellent Walk, so I am here to tell you all about it.

This Walk begins at Cramond. Sometimes, when we come here, I run about in Firth of Forth, and dig out the fun mussels from the sand. But today there were many humans sitting on the sand. These humans were cooking hot meats on what they refer to as a Barbecue. Curiously, I am not supposed to eat from the Barbecue even though they are to be found at dog-level — delicious smoking platters, simply offering themselves up to me. In fact, only a few days ago, I discovered a large and very fun Barbecue in a place I often Walk to at lunchtime. The meats on this particular Barbecue were of the best kind – viz – the sausage kind – so I simply helped myself. Those meats were tasty! I guzzled several before Kate, and three unknown humans who belonged to the Barbecue, began the shouting and the waving. The words BAD DOG were uttered. These words are sad-making, and I was not allowed to have my swim that day.

Anyway, since Kate says I am “no longer allowed within half a mile of a Barbecue,” we took a different Walk today. But this Walk was fun also! I would like to take this Walk again!

Apparently, there is a bee in one of those pictures, which Kate referred to as “First Bee” before becoming strangely animated. First bee, second bee, whatever bee - all bees are to be avoided as far as I’m concerned.

Now this looks much more interesting.



Question: Why do the humans run away shouting “No, Bruce,” as I approach them joyfully from the river?

This is a fun river, with many things inside. Kate told me that they once discovered a Roman monument in the mud very near here. Well, today I unearthed some intriguing wet cloth from the bottom of the riverbed. Tom referred to this as “mouldy old t-shirt”, but what does he know? It may well have been a Very Important Roman find, but I was not allowed to keep it.

Here is something else that I was not allowed to keep: a giant stick covered in graffiti – though not Roman, apparently.

But I then found this smaller and equally fit-for-purpose stick that I carried all the way home.

See you soon! Love Bruce x

Two days in Donegal

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I am designing a few things at the moment with a yarn that is new to me. I really like this yarn – and surely the best way to find out some more about it was to visit the place where it is made? So, on Friday, Mel and I took a trip to Donegal.

The yarn is a 2 ply light aran (US worsted weight) called “Soft Donegal”. It is “soft” because its yarn base is an Australian Merino – and it is “Donegal” because it is processed with the colourful neps, burrs, or flecks that are a familiar characteristic of Donegal tweed. The processing and the end-product are what is traditionally “Donegal” about this yarn. It is manufactured by Donegal Yarns, and distributed by Studio Donegal.


(Tathams of Rochdale carding machine at Studio Donegal. I hail from Rochdale, and always like to spot their machines in a mill.)

I have visited quite a few mills, but this first time I’d seen a fully vertical operation – that is, a mill where all of the processing stages from raw wool to finished yarn are effected in-house.


(Francis introduces Mel to the raw wool.)

Donegal Yarns dye the wool. They mix the dyed colours into beautiful, complex shades; they add the neps (the tweedy flecks) and the wool then goes through several stages of carding and condensing before it begins to resemble what we’d call a ‘single’.

Different stages of spinning, tying, washing, drying and skeining follow before the yarn is finally ready to leave the mill as balls or cones.

Thanks to Francis, the production manager at Donegal Yarns, Mel and I learned all about the operation — as well as many things we didn’t know about yarn processing.

This machine closely resembles a giant pair of human legs and feet — it ensures the colour is evenly distributed through the dye-vats and is appropriately called a “stamper.”

Wool shades are mixed with tweedy “neps” by being repeatedly blown about together in an amazing fleecy snowstorm . . .


. . . the Scotch Feed (invented by Henry Brown of Selkirk in 1844) puts a nifty twist into “woollen” processed yarns, turning and realigning the carded wool in preparation for the next stage.

I am often stunned by the fit-for-purpose ingenuity of textile machinery and the tape condenser (invented in the 1870s) is particularly ingenious. The efficient transformation of carded wool into fine ribbons relies entirely on the slightly-sticky properties of the fibres.

Francis was so knowledgable and enthusiastic and very tolerant of our yarn-related ravings. (Thanks, Francis!)


(a badly out-of-focus shot captures Mel’s rapturous reaction to the end product at Donegal Yarns)

The following day we visited Tristan Donaghy at Studio Donegal, just around the corner from the mill. As well as distributing Donegal Yarns for hand-knitting, Tristan runs his own small and highly-skilled manufacturing operation, producing unique hand-woven cloths which are used to create beautiful home furnishing fabrics, together with a small range of clothing.

What Tristan doesn’t know about Donegal tweed probably isn’t worth knowing. He was extremely generous both with his time and knowledge, and Mel and I came away feeling we had learned an enormous amount.

We saw unspun sliver being woven directly into boucle fabric for a textured effect . . .

. . . we found out about leno and tuck selvedges . . .

. . . we learned all about the different processes involved in finishing a hand-woven scarf or blanket (adding a rolled fringe is much more complex than you might think!)

And then we went outside to explore our surroundings, and let all we’d seen sink in.


(Me, the BMC, and the Maghera waterfall)

We could immediately see the material connection between the yarns and textiles we’d been admiring, and the beautiful landscape of Donegal.






Such an inspiring weekend! Thankyou Chris, Francis, and Tristan! Now it is time for me to get busy with those needles. . .

* You can buy Donegal Yarns directly from Studio Donegal, or from stockists like This is Knit.
* Read more about Donegal Yarns and Studio Donegal in Carol Feller’s super book, Contemporary Irish Knits

Aerial Errigal

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I last saw Errigal eight months ago , when you may remember I had a bit of a time getting up and down the chuffer. It is a truly spectacular mountain — just as spectacular from the aerial perspective I saw it from earlier today. As this photo might suggest, Mel and I have spent a fantastic weekend in Donegal. There were sheep! Mills! Yarn! Unseasonably warm weather! More of all of this once I’ve got my breath back . . . and done a bit of knitting.

Hope you’ve had a lovely weekend too!