« November 2004 | Main | January 2005 »
To me, knitting twisted stitches is not nearly as fun as knitting lace, but I do love the finished effect. This sock is the result of many hours of listening to the (grim) news. I must finish the pair this week, else it will malinger while I'm gone and become another citizen of the great population of unfinished stuff.
Meanwhile, in odd moments, I've been winding. And winding and winding and winding...
blech.
much better!
That's two pairs of pants done this weekend, and you can see why I like the invisible zipper. The only problem is that it might not work well with very heavy fabrics. In case you were curious, the pink swirly fabric was sold as upholstery. Big grin.
We had a snowstorm yesterday and in my passion for invisibility, I braved the snowy wastes to go look for more zips and hooks and eyes and other miscellaneous things which are so dratted irritating to be in lack of. I went to a discount fabric store in a dingy strip mall near my house. I'd never been there before and figured it was time to find out what they carry; in the worst case, I could continue on to my usual fabric store less than half a mile away.
Can't believe I never went there before yesterday. Lots of cheap stuff to make your insides squirm--polyester sequined knits, sleazy animal prints, coarse "lace" such as might be on the windows of dilapidated bungalow. However, there are also 100% cotton prints, even batiks, and shot silks and embroidered corduroy and bolts of wool. And invisible zippers: 35 cents each. Of the steady trickle of customers, I was the only one with English as a first language. All in all an interesting place, and worth checking up on every so often.
Yesterday I cut out two more pairs of pants, so there's plenty of sewing to be done. And after that, I have to make something besides pants or I'll go crazy.
There they are, the socks that were such fun to make. I think they are pretty, but the lace pattern doesn't show up too well. This alpaca tends to obscure stitch patterns. I was going to say "fluff out", but it's not fluffy, more slick, as if the fibers are sliding. The obscuring bits aren't fuzz but more like hair. So I don't know what the proper term is. I hope my stepmother likes them!
While we're on the topic of socks, what is your favorite sock yarn? I'd love to hear opinions... I'm looking for a sock yarn that can be knit on #1 or #0 needles and is firm enough to maintain clear stitch definition. I'd prefer a high percentage of natural fiber content. So far in my short sock knitting life I've used:
Regia: 25% polyamide, 75% wool. Reasonable. It's pretty basic stuff, it works but isn't thrilling. It's not too soft to the touch, and sometimes around mid-day the feet of my socks tend to grow and feel a little itchy.
3-ply alpaca: Love it, except for the blurry stitches. Great for plain socks, but I don't want to do a lot of cable work because it will just get obscured.baby cashmerino: Wonderful on the feet, though not so good at fitting inside shoes. It pills a little, and tends to stretch as worn.
Surely there's some nice sock yarn out there that is not variegated and is fine enough to make socks you can wear with normal shoes? Nancy Bush lists several in the "Socks for Traveling Knitters" book, but most of them I've been unable to find in person to do the touch test. I'd be glad to hear suggestions.
The pressure in my life right now has nothing to do with the holidays. I'm concerned with getting through the work week and surviving the end of classes. Confessions confessions-- I've been taking a Spanish class to improve my language skills for those trips to Peru. I'm very glad I persevered, I was about to drop in October. All the same, it's time for a break. When I was told this morning that I didn't have to come to class on Wednesday, I practially skipped back to the office. Then there's the little matter of my writing class. Merely thinking about it is irritating. It's a long tale-- at this moment I'm evenly undecided between making a token effort to submit another draft of my story and blowing it off entirely. I work full time and-- what's that? Am I crazy for taking two courses on top of a full-time job? Probably so. At any rate, I'm not stressing over holiday menus and last-minute gifts. My long-suffering far flung family is used to receiving New Year's presents from me, when they get anything at all. (New Year's package = no way am I enduring the bedlam at the post office this week).
Speaking of packages, I finished the pair of socks for my stepmother! Hooray. They turned out quite nicely, and with typical efficiency I forgot to take a picture. So imagine here two lovely lacy socks in smoky blue alpaca. And now back to dreaming about indulging in long hours of creativity. A week off of work means time to clean the studio. Who knows what might be found! And, oh rapture, there will be time to warp the loom.
It’s a bright sunny day and I had a lovely morning run in the 20-degree dawn. Leaving me feeling cheerful and disposed to find happiness in small things.
I wore my new lace kneesocks today, and they only slipped down about 3/8 of an inch during the mile and a quarter walk to work. This may have something to do with the stockings underneath, but even so, I am quite pleased because my handknit socks can get in the habit of congregating around my ankles. Moving upwards, I’m also wearing a new corduroy skirt which is, for once, precisely fitted to my body. In fact when I put it on I almost wondered if I’d made it too tight, but I think it’s just a matter of getting used to having things rest at my waist instead of on my hipbones. (Not that I am a person who shows the flesh between my bellybutton and hipbones. No. I assure you. Low-slung skirt, long sweater, that’s me.) Finally, in getting bundled up this morning I rummaged around in the cedar chest and pulled out an Andean hat covered with colorful tiny bobbles. Having this vibrant creation on my head was a great joy during the walk to work.
But now, the really exciting part: last night I went to see a play called “The Provok’d Wife”. It was written in 16-something and is absolutely hilarious. Ribald, bawdy, and did I mention full of innuendo? It’s about all kinds of humorous situations, such as how to conduct a refined adultery in a lecherous society, or vice versa, what to do when love overtakes you unawares, and the just desserts of a vain vapid arrogant high-class lady who believes that all gentlemen should swoon for her. Oh was I pleased to see her lose a man to a plain “dull” girl with glasses! Leaving aside the ingenious scenery (stairs and room modules that slid in and out of the wings), the comments on marriage (a fate to be avoided at all costs) and the amusing incidents of cross-dressing and deceit, let’s discuss the costumes.
Oh how I love good costumes! In this case the play was staged as a cross between watteau sheperdess and 1950’s debutante. The lead woman wore high heels, a panniered skirt with bustle, and a close fitting low-necked top in floral knit, with a pearl choker and an elaborate Audrey Hepburn french twist hairdo. The second woman appeared first in a blue plaid dress that had a triangular stomacher shape but also reminded one of gingham. Later this skirt appeared paired with a tight argyle sweater—still with the wide hips and supported posterior. Some of the more outrageous things were a puce green fur mantle with a deep hood, and a matching muff in the shape of a puppy dog. (I told you it was hilarious!) A voluminous cape in bubblegum pink covered from hood to heels with rows of wispy feathers. Brocade corsets, fuschia satin panniers. Platform shoes painted in camouflage to match a full-length cloak in hideous camouflage print, for the scene where the lady hides herself to spy on her rivals. I especially loved the undergarments, in part because I love corsets anyway and in part because they were just so sexy! White satin stays laced up the back, worn with satin hip rolls, lacy knickers, and thigh-high stockings. Black strapless corsets with flouncy black petticoats and purple stockings. Panniers covered in black tulle ruffles.
Above all, I lust for the frockcoats. Not for the men inside them, but for their clothes. Wide collars, pleated skirts in back, extravagant cuffs. In opulent brocade. Would that I could find such fabric! I would, I really would wear a knee-length frockcoat in colorful brocade, with a ruffly shirt and tight pants and high lace-up boots. Or a frockcoat over a velvet waistcoat with a standing collar. Or a frockcoat over a slinky narrow dress, or over a short skirt showing lots of stocking. This is enough to send me straight to Amazon to order the Janet Arnold books I don’t already own. (detailed cuts of historical clothing, for those crazy people like me who love to know how things are put together).
Thank God for fantasy and creativity and history. What a delight.
Having successfully completed my knee socks, which I love, I could return to the long detailed projects that are lingering around the 2/3 mark. The Big Blue Orenburg being the primary example. It's only a bit past the middle and I was going to finish it this year. Hmm. Well, so what do I do instead of being disciplined? Start another pair of socks, of course!
Last year a dear friend of mine asked for handknit socks for Christmas, and it gave me great delight to knit for him, knowing he would appreciate the socks and wear them and love them. I made two pairs for him last December and liked knitting socks so much I made two pairs for me. Given how this December is going, it appears that he may have unknowingly started a trend in my yearly knitting pattern: December is sock month.
What I love about socks: they are small enough so that something interesting happens before you get bored. Just as you think the next repeat is too stunningly dull, you have to turn a heel or shape a toe. You can put all sorts of stitch patterns in socks, especially lace, my favorite. And I find it very satisfying to knit something that gets molded to the complex shape of my foot when I put it on. Being relatively small, they can also be completed in real time, a very useful characteristic, especially as the end of the semester draws near. (No, I'm not a student, but I work in an academic environment and the tension seeps through everything...)
This next pair is in dusty blue-gray alpaca. They are "Feather and Fan" socks from the "Socks Socks Socks" book. My excuse for sitting still all day knitting is that if I can get them done in time they will be a nice present for my stepmother. I already have a gift for my Dad, but I can't really send him a present and not send her one, can I? Exactly. So I have to knit more, darn.
of new socks.
HOORAY!
I just finished the toe of the second flirty leaf sock. Finished it by knitting surreptitiously under the table in writing class. Weaving the toe together was more than I could handle while pretending to have my undivided attention elsewhere, so I'll do that later tonight. I hope I can stay awake long enough.
I think I prefer invisible zippers to the other kind. No matter how I try, I don't get good results with a regular zipper. The opening always seems sloppy. I was struggling with this yesterday, inserting zippers into pants and a skirt of heavy corduroy. I'd like to think that the weight of the fabric was part of the problem, but even so, I've got to figure out a way to make it easier and neater or else it's invisibles for me, all the time.
The second leaf sock has just had its heel turned and is beginning gusset decreases.
Be warned, when you do wash yards of wool fabric in the machine, that even if you take it out carefully you will later discover little drifts of wool fiber all over the room. They dissasociate themselves mysteriously and wander into the corners. This will always happen to be the day after you've mopped the house.
And finally-- I can hardly contain myself! My boss just bought us plane tickets. For Lima. For January. Two and a half weeks. The project is incredible and important and exciting. But aside from the work, do you realize what this means? Instead of suffering through a "summer" of gurua fog and clammy cold and greyness, there will be sun and warmth! I'll be inside working all day, but still. I'll get to wear summer clothes. Short sleeves! Skirts! Sandals! There are even beaches. Imagine, a trip to Peru during which I won't be freeze-dried and lack enough warm socks and always be adding another wool sweater to the bundle which is me. I can hardly conceive of it.
A couple of weeks ago I took a plunge and tried my first ordering-fabric-online experience. I've been skeptical of this, for the two huge reasons of Color and Quality. Fabric to me is so much about color, I wince at the possible catastrophes monitor differences or poor photography might create. Imagine getting a red you thought was your red, to find that it's actually too orange or too blue or too muted. Similarly, I handle a fabric to feel its quality. All the finishes they put on at the mills don't help, but even so, I need to know how it drapes, how heavy it it, how close the weave is, and if it's well made. All very difficult to tell from a picture.
So I was nervous. But I have a pattern for these very cool pants which are close fitting and are really fun to wear when I am feeling thin. Except that that happens less frequently than I'd like. Fabric with a little bit of stretch would be perfect for these pants, but I didn't find any at my local fabric store. However, fabric.com had some stretch cotton twill in wild bright prints. This was not a hasty decision. I considered the possiblities for several weeks. Finally I decided ok, it's cheap enough that I can live with it as a learning experience if it turns out to be a disaster. And I took the plunge. (Isn't this directly contrary to my post last week about spending as little as possible this month? Yes, except that a) it was *very* cheap b) fabric doesn't count anyway c) I ordered it before Thanksgiving.)
The box arrived today and I just opened it. Yipee! The colors sure are bright enough for me! Pink is drawing me these days, I may have finally reached a saturation point with my winter standbys of black and bright red. There's one piece of wool twill in bright bright fuschia pink, some stretch twill with a retro pink "links" design, and some stretch twill in green plaid with daisies. I know, I know. But it's bright. And come March, when there's very little daylight and too much snow, I am going to be *so* glad to have something besides brown corduroy to wear, even if it is lime green with daisies.
The laundry refers to the fact that I wash every piece of fabric I use before I cut it. Even 100% wool and 100% silk. With proper precautions of course; cold water, gentle agitation, air dry. Dry cleaners do not inspire me with confidence, and I like knowing that the fabric is pre-shrunk before I nip and trim. Contrary to popular instructions, I believe that there are very few things that can't get wet and be sudsed. In the case of wool, I prefer the soft bloomed surface post-washing to the slick treated off-the-bolt texture. Perhaps I have a bit of a fetish about washing... I can't bear to wear new clothes from a store until they've been washed. Anyhow, one project for this weekend is clear: get those new fabrics through the cleaning cycle so that they can be fashioned into fun things.
One can't tell the true quality of a fabric until it's been washed, so I'm not yet unreservedly enthusiastic. But so far, everything looks promising. If I get them home and scrunch them and fondle them and they still seem good, I'd do this again.
