Tag Archives: steeks

Bláithín

May 3, 2012 By in Bruce, Bruce, color, colour, cycling, design, fairisle, Kate Davies, Kate Davies Designs, knitting, steeks, stroke Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 122 Comments

Ok, before I begin, allow me a moment: I think that this is probably the best photograph I have seen of myself in ages. I like it because I look comfortable and physically capable — concepts which, a couple of years ago seemed totally unimaginable. Few people seem to talk about just how bloody uncomfortable it is living in a body that has had a stroke. I am happy to say that this discomfort abates somewhat as time goes on . . . Anyway, for a multitude of reasons, I would heartily recommend a trike to anyone with neurological weakness or balance problems. I love it as you can see . . .

Now I have got that shot of me, wildly gurning, out of the way, I can tell you about the cardigan.

It uses the same motifs as the Peerie Flooers designs, and its name is Bláithín, which means, in Irish “little flower.”

It is knit Donegal yarns, “Soft Donegal” – a squooshy, nubbly, and richly saturated tweed.


It is knit in one piece, and then steeked up the centre. Design features include inset pockets, steek sandwich facings, and i-cord buttonholes.

If you look carefully at the centre right of the photograph above, you’ll see a buttonhole. You’ll also note that there is i-cord around the cuffs and pocket tops. Yes, I do like my i-cord . . .

The i-cord edging is added after all the knitting is complete; it is worked all in one piece, all the way around the cardigan. Here is a shot of the edging worked along the “steek sandwich” buttonband. . .

Here is the edging on the inside of the cardigan, so that you can see the sandwich from the reverse, together with a buttonhole . . .

. . .and here is a buttonhole in action.

One of my aims with this design was for it to be as accessible as possible not only to those knitters who were cautious about steeking, but those who were afraid of colourwork. The yoke design is very simple.

It is also easily-customisable for the more adventurous knitter who would prefer to insert their own yoke design. The pattern repeats are short, and the decreases are worked over a number of plain rows.

Bláithín comes in nine sizes, covering a 30 to a 50 inch bust. The cardigan has a gentle A-line shape and is designed to be worn with 1-2 inches of positive ease. It is soft, warm, and very easy to wear.

Ideal for the novice tricyclist!


The Bláithín pattern is now available, and you’ll find it here or here!

I’ve also designed a wee Bláithín, in babies and girl’s sizes. This pattern will be available very shortly.

That’s all for now – I’m off up North today to look at some wool. See you later!

steeks 4: your questions answered

May 1, 2012 By in steeks, tutorial Tags: , , , , 31 Comments

Why do you weave in your ends away from the steek centre?
This is just a personal thing: I know that many knitters recommend just leaving the ends in the middle of the steek (as everything will be trimmed later), but I personally don’t like to do this. I want the back of the work to be as clean and firm and stable as possible before I begin the crocheted reinforcement. When one is working the crochet, one is poking and re-poking one’s hook through the fabric, pulling up yarn from the back of the work. It is all too easy to catch one or more of the hanging ends, and get oneself in a wee bit of a tangle. Also, in the pattern I’ve just written, the start of the round is one stitch to the right of the five steek sts. I find that it makes things much easier and simpler to just weave in all the ends off to one side, away from the steek stitches, before I start to crochet and cut.

Would you recommend blocking before steeking?
I tend to give the front and back of the work a quick steam before steeking (with an iron on the wool setting, without touching the fabric) just to allow it to relax. I don’t recommend blocking any more vigorously than that – if the stitches are stretched significantly before you work the steek, then they will be more likely to want to pop out of the crocheted reinforcement. (I have seen this happen . . . AIGH!) You can give your garment the full blocking treatment when you have finished it completely, with the steeks properly secured. . .

How about working with heavier yarns?
My new cardigan pattern is actually knitted in a worsted / light aran weight (can you guess which yarn I’ve used?!) My samples (and those of the test knitters) used sock yarn and a 3mm hook to crochet the steek reinforcement, and this worked really well. With all yarn weights I would definitely recommend using a finer, strong yarn that won’t snap, and a smaller hook for your crocheted reinforcement.

Does it matter what colour yarn I use for the crocheted reinforcement?
I used yarn in a contrasting colour for illustration purposes. I would say that, just as if you were sewing an invisible hem on a skirt with needle and thread, that it is probably best to use a yarn that is quite close in hue to the main colour of your garment. If (for example) you were knitting a white cardigan, and used black sock yarn for the crocheted reinforcement, then you would definitely run the risk of the reinforcement showing through between the stitches of the sandwich edging.

Where precisely do you pick up the stitches to work the edging from the right side?
I’ve worked quite a few of these ‘sandwiches’ now, and I would say that for the neatest result (ie, for the edging to sit properly flush against the main pattern), you should pick up your stitches in the gap between the outermost steek stitch and the first stitch of the main pattern. See the diagram below: there are two pattern stitches on either side, and five steek stitches in the middle. You pick up the stitches along the pink lines.

Several of you asked this question, so I’ll add this diagram to yesterday’s sandwich tutorial, to clarify things.

In relation to picking up the stitches from the right side, and my instruction to “make sure you push your needle all the way through to the back of the work, and draw the yarn through from the wrong side,” Donna asked: “are you creating new stitches thru the knitting rather than picking up stitch from the front ie the already knitted stitches?” The answer is: YES. It is is necessary to pick up through the fabric to get this effect on the back of the work.

This is the usual way in which I pick up stitches and it is clearly not everybody’s way (which is why I mentioned it). And in relation to the moot “fence post” issue Lynn raised in her question, logic would indeed suggest that there should be one less loop on the back of the work than the front but . . . having made multiple sandwiches, I have honestly never noticed this. I always check that the number of stitches is the same for back and front needles before beginning to knit them together and it always is… I have been told by my knitting buddies that I pick up stitches in an “odd” way, and I generally begin the process by attaching a slip-knot loop to the back of the work before starting to pull the yarn through. . . perhaps this provides me with an extra stitch? Your thoughts are welcome.

How do you work an i-cord bind off?
This is a very simple (albeit time-consuming and yarn-greedy) bind off. It is probably my favourite finish for a cardigan edge.
Here is how it goes:

Cast on 3 stitches using cable cast on. *k2, k2tog tbl. Slip 3 stitches from rh needle to lh needle. Pull the working yarn across the back * Repeat from * to *. At final 3 sts, finish by k1, k2tog tbl, slip 2 sts to left hand needle, k2tog, pull yarn through.

The result is a neat, raised, corded edge.

How does the sandwich facing relate to the button bands?
The beauty of this method is that the sandwich is the button band! You’ll see precisely how when I show you some photos of my new cardigan (hopefully tomorrow). Another fantastic thing about the i-cord bind off is that it allows you to create neat, integral buttonholes (by binding off a couple of stitches in the normal fashion, and working a couple of rows of plain i-cord over the top of the gap). It is (of course) an EZ method, and I use it on my Manu design, as well as on the new cardigan. It is by far my favourite buttonhole.

Could I use a different bind off?
Yes, of course. Use any method you like. For example, you could simply complete the sandwich by grafting or working a three-needle bind off when you are knitting the back and front stitches together. I am intrigued by the Dale-of-Norway three-needle bind off / picot facing method that Lisa mentioned in her comment. It sounds lovely – I will have to try it.

Could I knit the loops of the crochet reinforcement together with the back and front stitches?
I’d say not. You do not want to put any strain at all on that reinforcing chain. If you tug or pull at it in any way then you run the risk of the cut edges popping out. Don’t do it!

Thanks for all your questions and comments! I hope I’ve covered all your queries.

steeks 3: the sandwich

April 30, 2012 By in Kate Davies, Kate Davies Designs, knitting, steeks Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 50 Comments

In this post, I’m going to show you how to further reinforce (and cover) the cut edges of your steek using a techique that I’ve called “the steek sandwich.” There are many other methods of binding / covering steek edges – but this one works well, I think, for a steeked cardigan. The front edges of a cardigan generally see a lot of strain because of the opening / closing action of buttons and button holes – and this method provides a strong facing as well as a stable edge where the garment needs it most.

Above, you can see the wrong side of the swatch where we left it yesterday, with the steek cut, and the crocheted reinforcement holding the cut edge. In the steps that follow, I’m just going to describe exactly what I’m doing, and provide a little more explanation at the end.

First, with the right side of the swatch facing, pick up and knit 3 stitches for every 4 rows, plus an extra 1 stitch each for the top and bottom edges. (I’m using yarn in a contrasting colour so you can see what I’m doing).

For the edging to sit flush against the main pattern, you should pick up your stitches in the gap between the outermost steek stitch and the first stitch of the pattern. In the diagram below, there are two pattern stitches on either side, and five steek stitches in the middle. The pink lines show you where you should be picking up your stitches.

When picking up your stitches, make sure you push your needle all the way through to the back of the work, and draw the yarn through from the wrong side (this may sound obvious, but people do pick up stitches in quite different ways . . . ) So, when you have finished, you should be able to see the backs of your picked up stitches on the reverse of the fabric.

The backs of your stitches should resemble a line of sewn running stitch. And just as a running stitch would, these stitches are further securing and holding the cut edge of your steek. That steek is going nowhere!

Now, beginning with a purl row, work in stockinette for four rows.
Keep these stitches live on the needle: don’t break yarn.
Here are these four rows from the right side.

And here they are from the wrong side, with stitches 1 and 2 of the steek, and the chain of the crocheted reinforcement visible behind them.

Sitting underneath the steek, you’ll see the back loops of your previously picked up stitches.

Now without knitting, pick up each of these loops and place them on a second needle:

Bring the working yarn round from the right side, and work in stockinette for 3 rows, beginning with a knit row.

Keep these stitches live on your needle: don’t break yarn.

The sandwich is now forming: four rows of stockinette on the right side, three on the wrong side, and, in the middle, the steek stitches and their crocheted reinforcement.

This next step is a bit fiddly, so take your time.

Turn the work to the right side.
You have two sets of stitches running parallel to one another: one set on the front, and one on the back needle.
Bring the working yarn around from the back and, with a third needle, knit one stitch from the front needle together with one stitch from the back needle, covering and containing the steek stitches and the crochet chain. When you have knitted each front-needle stitch together with its corresponding back-needle stitch, you end up with this.

A neat stockinette facing!

And here’s what it looks like from the wrong side:

All that remains is to bind off the live stitches. Here, I’ve used an i-cord bind-off (knit 2; knit 2 together through-the-back-loops) (particularly useful if you are working a button / buttonhole band).

Here’s the finished sandwich from the right side . . .

. . . and the wrong side.

Voila! the steek sandwich.

I particularly like the fact that:
1) if you work an even number of rows from the right side, and an odd number from the wrong side, you never have to break yarn
2) Because you just pick up the reverse loops from the right-side stitches, you end up with two perfectly aligned stockinette flaps that can neatly be knitted together.
3) No need to worry about whether you’ve picked up the right number of stitches on either side: the number of stitches is always, inevitably the same!
4) You can weave in your ends by pulling them inside the sandwich.

Points of note:
:: You can of course, work more rows to create a deeper facing. I’ve worked the minimum here: just enough to fit the steek and and its reinforcement inside.
:: I worked the i-cord bind-off from the wrong side. Personally, I like the way this looks.
:: The ‘sandwich’ is formed from three layers of fabric and, as you’d imagine, has a solid, almost quilted appearance. I think this is great for the front openings of a cardigan, where a facing is often necessary anyway. It also works well as a blanket edging, but because it adds bulk, would probably not work so well elsewhere.

If this rain ever stops, I’ll soon be able to show you how the sandwich looks on a finished garment!

Also, I noticed that there were some good questions on my previous couple of posts. I thought I’d answer a few of these (those that I can!) in a final installment of this steek series tomorrow, so if there is anything you want to know that I’ve not covered, or that seems unclear, please say something below.

steeks 2: reinforcing and cutting

April 29, 2012 By in Kate Davies, Kate Davies Designs, knitting, steeks Tags: , , , , , , 62 Comments

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

April 29, 2012 By in Kate Davies, Kate Davies Designs, knitting, Shetland Tags: , , 23 Comments

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

April 28, 2012 By in knitting Tags: , , , 38 Comments

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!

Steeks!

April 16, 2012 By in Ireland, knitting, retail, teaching, yarn Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 67 Comments

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.

worn

November 27, 2011 By in darning, fairisle, History, knitting, textiles, wool, Wovember Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 78 Comments

The best things in my wardrobe are made of wool. Some of these are ‘vintage’ items that have worn incredibly well. I thought I’d show you one of my favourites today.

I picked up this hand-knitted cardigan second-hand. From its shape, patterns, buttons, and the kind of Shetland wool that was used to knit it, I reckon it dates from the 1940s. 70 years later, it is still in fantastic condition. The right side of the fabric has that slight sheen that Shetland hand-knits seem to develop after many years of wear. There is not a single pill to be seen.

The strands along the back of the fabric have felted ever-so-slightly. The work is incredibly fine and neat.

But this is not a pristine garment. It has been worn a lot. Where this is most evident is under the arms. Here, movement and friction have created areas of felting on the fabric’s right side.

It is also a garment that has been cared for. There is a place on the back of one elbow where an area of about two square inches has been repaired. The darner has taken great care to match the pattern. You can see that wool of a slightly paler-blue than the original has been used. Here is the darn from the wrong side . . .

. . . and here from the right side.

These are clearly the repairs of a seasoned darner. The stitches are perfectly made, the fabric perfectly stable. I do love to see good darning. One of the most moving hand-knits I have ever encountered is a Fair-Isle sweater now on permanent display in the Shetland Museum. It belonged to a local who spent much of WWII as a prisoner. He wore this sweater constantly, repairing and re-repairing the areas that suffered from wear. A powerful document of his interment, as well as his Shetland identity, this sweater really looks as much darned as it is knit. It is very beautiful. Next time I visit Shetland I’ll get a photograph for you.

Here is another repair conducted by the hand of an inexpert darner – ie me.

Not only is this an example of my second-rate mending, but you can also see how difficult it is to find contemporary yarn that is a good match for vintage palettes. The brown colour I’ve used to darn is a Shetland that is close in hue to the original, but it is a blend with flecks of green in it. Like all of the colours used on the original sweater, the rusty-brown shade is very flat and solid. This ‘flatness’ is one of the many things I find interesting about knitting wool from the 30s and 40s. Those marled, heathered, or tweedy effects that we might think of as being ‘traditional’ are really of relatively modern ilk.

I love the simple construction of this sweater. The button bands are so neatly done that I originally assumed they had been knitted at the same time as the colourwork. Had the knitter actually purled those stitches back-and-forth instead of working in the round?

No they hadn’t – but they had conducted a kind of knitterly magic when picking up the stitches. Each cut yarn-end on each row has been individually bound down and woven in. It is an incredibly nifty piece of work.

Impressive! But how had the knitter secured the steek before cutting? When I looked closely at the armhole steeks (similarly neat, and flat) I discovered more about her method.

Upon careful examination I discovered some tiny cotton thread ends showing that the steek had been hand-sewn before cutting. While the majority were removed when the steek was completed, a few of these stray cotton thread-ends actually still remain in the armhole joins, as you can see at the centre of this rather blurry photograph.

The work is so neat, so very carefully done, that there is no bulk at all — hardly a hint of anything resembling a join or ‘seam’.

The sweater has very little shaping: there are some decreases in the arms, and a narrowing at the waist created by the ribbing, but there is no underarm gusset, or setting-in-of sleeves. The sleeves are, in fact set in to the armholes totally squarely, as you can see here.

This squareness is probably one reason for the increased wear that the underarms have seen – but the totally un-tailored sleeve actually fits surprisingly nicely under the arms — not much excess fabric at all.

The cardigan is a good, neat fit on me. I love it, and love to wear it. I’ll keep admiring it, repairing it, wearing it, caring for it. Maybe under my proprietorship it will be able to see another several decades of wear — just as it did with its original owner.

Allez! yarn success. . .design fail

August 3, 2010 By in knitting Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 100 Comments

Warning! Lengthy post, probably only of interest to knitters!
One day in March, when I was still in residential rehab, I returned to my bed from a hard morning’s physio to find two packages. Both were promisingly squishy and clearly contained yarn. How exciting! I opened the first package. It came from one of my correspondents, Séverine, in France and its contents are above – a hand-dyed sampler from Renaissance Dyeing’s Troubador Range. How lovely! I pawed and cooed over the yarn for quite some time. So springy! So sheepy! The colours so rich and so unmistabkably naturally dyed! How I loved this yarn! Then I opened the second package. This one came from my friend Anne, and contained skeins of hand-dyed yarn in different shades of woad from . . . the troubador range at Renaissance Dyeing. Two kind people had separately sent me the same marvelous yarn, on the same day! Spooky!

I had discussed British sheep breeds and the virtues of WOAD several times with Anne, so it made sense for her to be sending me a thoughtful woolly gift, and I imagine Séverine had a good sense of the kind of traditional, sheepy yarn I like from reading this blog. In any case, I was incredibly excited to receive two batches of the same amazing yarn on the same day! I loved it. The yarn comes from Poll Dorset sheep, who are raised on the Italian border, close to Renaissance Dyeing’s headquarters in the Pyrénées. It has a wonderful hand, a quite unique elasticity, and it knits up really, really evenly.

As soon as I’d swatched with it, I knew that the yarn wanted to be a jersey, of the old-fashioned sporting variety. It was so fabulously stretchy and would so obviously wear well. I did a little more swatching – the colours complemented each other perfectly – and my only other criterion for the design was that the garment I made would have to feature a selection from all of the yarn that Anne and Séverine sent me. There was less than 25g of each colour in Séverine’s sampler, and Anne’s package contained 100g each of a pale blue and a teal shade. Could I design a garment using these colours and that amount of yarn? I sketched a t-shirt style jersey, and swatched up a simple, sporty colourwork design. . .

Diamonds! How pleasing! With literally one round to remember, this surely had to be the simplest, most addictive colourwork pattern in the world! My swatches looked so satisfying. I could make a whole garment out of Anne and Séverine’s yarn – it would have a pale blue body, a yoke featuring the diamond pattern and contrasting teal-coloured set-in sleeves. So I began knitting, and managed, as I’d hoped, to squeeze a whole body out of the one 100g pale blue skein, at which point the garment started to really remind me of a cycling jersey and everything fell into place . . . the yarn came from the Pyrénées, I was knitting it while enjoying the the Tour de France. . . the tour was celebrating a centenary in the Pyrénées this year . . . it all seemed to fit. The name of the jersey, would, I decided, be ALLEZ! I worked the yoke (fun!), cut the armhole steeks and knit a pair of short-row set in sleeves – it was all looking very tasty. But then things started to go awry. . .

. . .please to examine, for the last time, my nice, neat shoulder with my nice, neat picked-up sleeve stitches and my nice, neat neck edging just waiting to be knitted neatly. Ah me. It was not to be.

First, Bruce, who had been showing an unhealthy interest in my handiwork, contrived, when I popped into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, to pull the sweater off the sofa where I had been knitting it, pull the circular out of the neck edging, unravel the stitches in several places, and give the whole thing a good ol’ chew for good measure. Naughty puppy!

I managed to get the damn thing from him and to fix things as best I could, but the neck edging at the front of the sweater now looks, to be frank, as if it has been chewed by a dog.

NOT A GOOD LOOK, BRUCE!


(This picture was taken when I later caught him sticking his head up the chimney, but you get the general idea)

So although my beauteous, even neck edging was no longer beauteous – or even – everything else was still OK . . .wasn’t it? I blocked the sweater. It looked fine. Then I tried it on for the first time, and I showed Tom. “Very nice,” he said, “but what’s going on there with the sleeves?”

With me inside the jersey, the picked up stitches around the steeks had decided not to hold, and both sleeve seams had completely given way! HORRORS!

Dear Knitters, if you are ever in doubt about the stickiness of your yarn, or about whether or not a steek will hold. . . take heed: use a good reinforcement method like a crocheted steek for crissakes, or you will end up in my sorry situation. Working with Shetland yarn has clearly made me totally blasé where steeks are concerned. . . I just cut up my knitting without bothering to reinforce things, and by the time I have blocked and tried on the garment, everything has already, happily stuck together. But Poll Dorset yarn clearly does not behave like a Shetland. . . Poll Dorset yarn is stretchy and a wee bit slippery and its trimmed steeks have a tendency to. . . UNRAVEL!

I just can’t bring myself to show you a close up of how utterly shite my sleeve seams look now. . .but you can click and enlarge the following image if you really want to see. . .

. . . matters were urgent – I was in danger of having no yoke or sleeves at all – so I patched things up as best I could. With their hideous, poky repair-stitches in place of the nice, neat short rows, those seams now make me very, very sad. The garment had gone from having a gorgeous, neat finish, to having the worst finish of anything I have knit ever. You can see the Bruce-damaged crappy neck edging, too, in this next shot. . . Not at all satisfactory!

In fact, the more I looked at it, the more unpleasing things I noticed about the garment. First, I should have started the diamond pattern in a darker colour to give a greater contrast with the pale blue of the body. Second, because of the tailored effect of the set-in sleeves, I should have begun the colourwork an inch or two below the underarms rather than, as with other yoked constructions , right at the underarms themselves. Mandy has the right idea here, in the diamond-patterned vest she has also recently finished.

Here is a pic from the other day to illustrate the jersey’s third and most significant problem. The colours of the yoke are a lot darker than that of the body, and the fact that the pattern starts quite high up gives it a curious visual effect when worn: the top of my torso seems to lengthen and recede, with the consequence that my meagre bosom appears more prominent than usual, and in completely the wrong position. See what I mean? If the jersey gives me, who have no boobs, a whole new set where they shouldn’t be, just imagine what it would do to someone with a normally proportioned pair. The mind boggles.

Waist boobz! AIGHIGH!


(The less said about this unfortunately suggestive shot the better . . . )

The most one can say about this top, then is that it looks OK in a slightly blurry shot from behind and the best words for it are, sadly, DESIGN FAIL. Hey ho.

I do wonder whether, in a sense, I was trying too hard – I loved what Anne and Séverine had sent me so much, that most of all, I wanted the garment to be a showcase for their gift. Perhaps if I had started at a different place, I would have had different ideas. . . Anyway, as you might imagine, I am not going to make a pattern for Allez!, though I do love the yarn and diamond pattern inordinately, and think they might perhaps work very well together on a hat. And I have learnt three important lessons from simply making this sweater: 1) keep your knitting away from Bruce 2) always reinforce your steeks 3) never design anything featuring waist boobz.

Thankyou, Anne and Séverine, for the wonderful yarn! I will try to design a hat that will do it justice!

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