awayuq

more dirty textiles

I spent the last couple of weeks looking at early colonial textiles from a site on the north coast of Peru.  In time I may be able to post pictures but you aren't missing a whole lot without the visuals, because the things I saw had just come out of the ground and were so encrusted with dirt that in many cases it took hours of cleaning to figure out what they were.  The textiles, mostly scraps of things, have been all mixed up in the ground due to centuries of looting, so it's not possible to date many of them with certainty from context alone.  However, IF we are able to get permission to take samples and IF dates from said samples indicate that the pieces are 16th-17th century, I may have studied some of the earliest knitting in South America.  At this point I am cautiously optimistic that two of the pieces found, striped stockinette tubes, represent early importation of the technique of knitting to the Americas.  They are both knit with multiple strands of singles cotton yarn such as was used for indigenous weaving.  One piece has half the stitches held on a yarn and the other half continue in a garterstitch band.  The whole thing looks to my mind very much like a sock top with a heel flap.  Because of the yarn and the incompleteness of the piece, it´s almost certain that the knitting was done here in Peru.  The second piece even has a simple fair isle pattern of blue and white squares!  They look like bedraggled sad little raveling objects, fully saturated with dessert dust and dirt, but they could be important evidence of the spread of knitting. 

And there was not only knitting, but lots of fascinating woven textiles, including  many pieces with twill damask stripes.  The twill is 2/1 and the damask makes an elaborate pattern of stepped diagonals and interlocking spirals.  At first glance, it looks like a floor-loom product, but these patterns appear on four-selvedge textiles.  I´m wondering if some special heddling was used, possibly some kind of dual lease system with pattern rods?  In order to fully understand it, I'll have to review a lot of structural information which is presently deep at the back of my brain.  There are examples of indigenous cloth with hemmed seams, and mixing of indigenous and imported fabrics, and even early buttons made of rolled wool fabric felted into little toggles.  Amazing stuff.

In my personal textile creation efforts, I encountered a sad setback.  I got to the very end of the center of the Weeping Willow shawl (pictured in the last post, the blue thing) and found that I had forgotten the directions for attaching the border!  I have the graph, but no word directions and unfortunately, I can't remember how the pattern handles turning the corners, or even whether the border is in stockinette or garter stitch.  So I've tucked the almost-shawl into the back of my suitcase for the time being and I'll finish it when I get home.  In the meantime I started two others.  Hey, I have a couple long flights coming up.  You really wouldn't want me to run out of knitting over the Carribean ocean.  I'll be home soon, and I can't wait to revisit all my projects and start making things again! 

meandering starflower

Do you ever try to trace the meanders of a fiber doodle? Those swatches you make, not because you anticipate making a full garment, but because you want to see how something works, or because you can't figure out a pattern, or because you have just a little bit of yarn and are stuck at the busstop and desperately want to cast on for something: I call them fiber doodles. Most of mine get ripped out, but I can't help but think every one is valuable. The yarn person's version of a sketchbook, in pieces.

This morning I finished a little doodle that I rather like. Its most immediate origins can be traced to an atypically warm day last month, when I walked up the hill to the public library. I checked out Jean Frost's book of Jackets and over the next few weeks perused it in odd moments. (btw, thanks to the person who commented on this book a while ago--I already had it in my hands and you are absolutely right, I do enjoy it!) I especially like the scalloped jacket, which she says is based on a pattern from Knitted Counterpanes, a book sadly out of print. Next step, the glories of interlibrary loan. Within a couple weeks I had a copy of Knitted Counterpanes and enjoyed paging through it, looking at the embossed patterns knit on tiny needles. I can't imagine knitting an entire bedspread, mostly because there are so many other things I want to knit. But the white textures, sometimes bumpy, sometimes lacy, reminded me of crochet. June was posting about crochet a while ago, which made me remember how I used to love it. I was a crocheter long before I was a knitter and used to make cardigans for my teddy bear. Most crochet sweaters seem to me extraordinarily ugly, but there are lots of other things to make with crochet, such as bedspreads and tableclothes, as depicted in old thread leaflets.

These are Dover reprints. I love browsing through them. Some of the patterns are very pretty, but more than that I love the names of the designs and the introductory blurbs. All about the beauty of a well-set table, and how this lacy cloth will enhance the housewife's reputation for hospitality. One mentions that the maker of a fine luncheon set will appear to advantage when "the girls" come over for lunch. The names are things like "La Chatelaine", "Lady Bountiful", and "Shepardess". Although these leaflets were published by thread companies and are therefore essentially advertisements, I still wonder about the kind of life depicted in the few brief seductive sentences about each piece. Luncheon parties? Buffets--in your own home? Linen napkins that are actually used? Did anyone ever really have this kind of existence?

My doodle is taken from a bedspread pattern, one I have long been drawn to. I tried it first in 10/2 perle cotton and by the time I got the center done it seemed very coarse and clunky. Crochet can seem like that very easily, in my opinion. I switched to a finer thread and hook and tried again.

It's a star, or a flower, done in popcorns on a lattice background. Thread, unlabeled stash find: approx. 20/2 cotton. The hook I used is labeled "8" but I have no idea how that translates into mm. The octagon is 9.25 inches from point to point and 8 inches from side to side. In theory, one makes a lot of these motifs and joins them together into a bedspread. I doubt very much that I'll ever get that far, but I enjoy this one lonely star. A little bit glisteny, slightly delicate, heavy under its own weight, and happily, brightly yellow. Doodles don't really need justification.

Holiday Fun

My brother lives in San Francisco and Mom and her friend and I came out to visit him for the holidays. We had a lovely Christmas dinner, and them a day of rest, and then we drove over to Berkeley to go to Lacis. Luckily Mom is also interested in threads and things, so it didn’t take much to convince her to go, and friend wanted to visit a Japanese tool store also in Berkeley, so it was all around a good thing.

It was my first visit to Lacis, and if you are interested in textiles and needle arts, you MUST go there. I got stuck in one corner of the store and it was several hours before I put my head up and realized that they had two more *rooms* to explore. Needless to say I couldn’t take in everything. They have lots of obscure books, which demanded my full attention, and lots of great tools that are hard to find. I got two sets of steel knitting needles, #00000 and #000000. I found a spanish lace-knitting magazine that has some fantastic patterns in it, and a couple of the Christine Duchrow reprints, all full of old German lace knitting patterns. My second focus was tatting, because I can’t seem to find tatting anything around where I live. I found some challenging books and thread and shuttles. If you are looking for tatting shuttles, this is a great place to go! They have everything from basic plastic to tiny mother of pearl to long slender bone to celtic patterned silver-plated shuttles. They also have tons of historic dress patterns, corset makings, hat forms, ribbons, lace, embroidery canvases, silk floss, books on just about anything textile related... It was a fantastic afternoon. I even got to stop in the small museum in the back of the store, where in addition to lots of lace examples they have a small Peruvian gauze weaving displayed.

Go there. Or go to http://www.lacis.com/.

I love tatting!

It´s really fun.  It fits literally in a pocket.  There are no stitches to lose and the process of creating a piece can go round and round, back and forth, in a squiggly manner, or some combination of all those and more.  As I´m learning more about it I find the mathematical possibilities interesting.  Each textile form has its own restrictions... a tatted piece is essentially the path of one string, covered with a pattern of knots and picots.  Unlike many other techniques, the string can cross itself to create loops.  How many designs can you think of that are made of curves and loops?  Boggling, right?  But how many of those designs can be created in a continuous path, where each segment is covered only once, and there is enough connection between the segments to make a fabric that won´t loose its shape? 

I´m in Lima now, and leave early tomorrow morning for the mountains.  Undoubtedly I´ll learn a lot over this summer.  I hope some of it will have to do with textiles. 

old sayings, new pursuits

When I was little, if my brother or I asked for something my mother considered ridiculous, she would say "You need another X like you need another hole in your head". What with weaving, knitting, spinning, sewing, and occasional explorations of historic textiles, laces and braiding, I often say to myself: "You need another thread hobby like you need another hole in your head." Really-- what's the point of getting enthusiastic about another thing only to find that I have no time to do it? Be that as it may, I have a series of quick questions for you:

what is more portable than knitting?
what kind of lace is never in danger of unraveling?
how do you make absolutely free-form circles curves and loops with only one basic stitch?

Tatting. My fascination with tatting dates back to the time I could still stand upright under a dining room table. Rummaging through the yarn closet, I found a little booklet that had baby clothes and instructions for knitting, crochet and tatting. There were bonnets, booties, and lace gloves. I wish I had this booklet now--I can't even remember what company published it-- from the diagrams, I taught myself to crochet and later to knit. The pictures of lacy tatted things were indescribably appealing, but I had no shuttle and the diagrams made no sense to me. I decided tatting was not for me, and happily continued other pursuits.

Right now, if I had to give a name to my foremost textile passion, I would say "lace". Rather than any particular technique, I am interested in delicate open fabric. Gauze weaves, lace weaves, knitted lace, hemstitching. Knitting has held less fascination for me recently, and I decided this summer I want to learn something entirely new. Hence, tatting. I couldn't find shuttles or books at any LYS, so I mail ordered a few different kinds--luckily tatting shuttles can be very inexpensive. A ball of mercerized cotton from the weaving stash, and there you have it. I sat down with a beginner's book one day, when I had plenty of time, and tried to teach myself the knots. The memory of absolutely incomprehensible diagrams gave me some trepidation, but the intervening years must have done *some* good to my brain, because it took about 5 minutes to figure out what was supposed to be happening. Imagine. All these years I've steered clear of tatting because I figured it was just too difficult, and it turns out the whole thing is based on one knot. One. Off to collect as many tatted edging patterns as I can find.

book puzzle

Yesterday I discovered the Lacis catalog. No doubt it's been there a long time. What a great book collection! I am especially intrigued by Makiko Tada's book on Andean Braids. I am pretty sure I have met her, at Convergence 2000, when she was conversing with the greatest north american sling braider. (He happened to be a good friend of mine.) Has anyone seen this book, or any other of her books? I've looked in all the library catalogs I have access to and haven't found a copy. I have a feeling it could be important for my collection; on the other hand, it is a bit pricey, so I'd value comments from anyone who has read it. It would be great if it gives sling braiding directions that are less confusing than Adele Cahlender's, or at least a different perspective.

Braids are seductive... lately I've seen some amazing peruvian braids and I am sorely tempted to try some. If only I didn't already have so many other fiber pursuits.

I also saw three lace knitting books on their site with knitting patterns by Christine Duchrow. (sp?) Again I can't find them within my library resources. So, lace knitting gurus, how do they rate? Are the patterns unusual and complex enough to warrant purchase? Are they charted? Are there stitches you don't find anywhere else?

a wednesday odyssey

I love putting things together. In my next life I want to be an architect. Or a fine woodworker. For now, since I can't build additions onto my condo, I get thrills from putting furniture together. Besides the fact that one can get inexpensive things requiring assembly, it's about the only way anything larger than a breadbox will make its way into my rooms. I'm on the third floor and the stairs are a very narrow 29 inches, compounded by tight turns and all the s*** my second floor neighbor keeps in her landing.

My huge new year's present to myself is at once a chance to hammer and assemble and rearrange, and a chance to bring order to my studio. I bought lots of elfa drawers. Wednesday I stayed home from work and by 7:30 I was hopping with impatience, waiting for my downstairs neighbor to leave so I could start hammering and she wouldn't complain. Finally! I was free to wield whatever tools I liked. These drawers have metal frames and when hammering them together they sound like a not too mellifluous bell. Bong, bong, bong.... good thing I've been working out, my arms got plenty of exercise. Here's one of the first things I finished:

It's a little rolling unit with space for fiber, yarn, knitting projects, or whatever. That was about 10:30 am; I'd already put together something for the bedroom and four big frames visible at the edge of the photo. Shortly afterwards I tackled the immense task of taking things out of the studio to bring the drawers in. With the result:

Compare this photo to the first photo in the previous post. Nice, yes? I was so excited I couldn't stop to eat. I worked until three on cups of tea and a banana. Another happy addition to the family:

The desk is now situated near the window, and includes drawers. To fully appreciate this, consider that previously light from this windo was half blocked by an immense stack of large plastic storage bins. And the previous desk was only slightly more sophisticated than a door on sawhorses.

Then began the long, exhausting, messy work of reorganizing things. Taking stuff out of those plastic storage bins and reallocating it. I found things I'd forgotten I had. I'm quite ashamed to see how *many* things. Why do I have 50 zippers? Because I could never find one when I needed it, so I bought more. Howcome I have 8 spools of offwhite thread? Ditto. Why do I have two lengths of white handwoven twills? Must have forgotten the existence of one while planning the other. Why do I have six lengths of functional brown wool twill in different checks and textures? Geez. To my credit, I did throw a lot of stuff away (this scrap is roughly 2" x 3". What am I going to make out of that??) and gathered other stuff to donate. In the end, it turned out to be like this:

wall of color and texture! Wow! I am so happy. Here imagine me jumping up and down. I can't pass the room without going in to admire it. Being organized makes me feel so creative! Of course that wasn't the end; here's the desk

I am looking forward to working near the window. I now have places to put my french curves and rulers, which used to slide all over the place and get lost under piles of fabric. I can have notebooks close to hand, and patterns in the bottom drawers. Other reasons I love these new arrangements are

I can see what colors of thread I have! And I found more sock yarn. And laceweight yarn. Notice the drawer is not full. Room for more lace!

I can easily see the beautiful linen fabric I've collected over the years. May this be the year I finally sew some of it up!

And boy oh boy, I am thrilled to have a place for my zippers.

Cleaning up from this orgy of construction and reconstruction was not so fun! I must have made 15 or 20 trips up and down the stairs carrying box carcasses and packing paper out to the curb. First of course I had to excavate a place in the snow bank for the trash bags. But it was worth it. It's not something I want to do every week, but I am so happy! I love my new space! I love having a bookshelf just for textile books, and little clear stackable boxes in which to keep cotton fiber. I love being able to see my notions. Just as good is not having to see my warping sticks (they are in a corner between a bookshelf and the wall and the drawers). Everything fits, and I have so much fiber to spin and yarn to play with and fabric to sew I don't have to acquire anything for another 10 years. Having everything all clean and orderly makes me itch to get down to work and mess it all up again. I'm ready to PLAY!!

ENORMOUS self present!

Here is my studio:

Here is my living room, after invasion by 20 large UPS pacakages:

Here's the living room after most of those boxes were unpacked:

Can you guess what's coming? I stayed home while it was snowing and worked *all* day. More pictures soon...

what ho!

This new year started with good new things. May the trend continue. I just got back from a trip to Lima. It was great! It was sunny! I wore tank tops and short sleeveless dresses; I lay in the sun in my bikini. You can still see the line though it's fading fast. I worked hard, got montones of good data that I'm very excited about. Just before coming home I indulged in a few alpaca items for myself, including a casual turquoise cardigan with zipper and kangaroo pockets, a soft yellow scarf, and a turquoise stole with pompoms on the ends in various colors of blue. Lest you think I am selfish, all this was after I got gifts for my family-- a scarf for Mom, but most notably a large alpaca throw with a multitude of cable patterns for my brother and his wife. I shipped it the day after I got home; I do so hope they like it! They are difficult to buy for, because not only do they live on an opposite coast, and I've never seen their condo, but they claim to want nothing, and in truth their disposable income probably eclipses mine by several orders of magnitude. I hope they'll enjoy it at the very least because it comes from Peru, where I've spent a fair bit of time.

In an unusual spate of packing rationality, I made the radical decision to leave some of my knitting in the hotel storage in Peru. As I was putting together my things to go home, and looking at the balls of yarn scattered on the bed, I realized that the same balls of yarn have been carried back and forth to Peru at least three times. Three times! This is nonsense. It's not as if there's not more at home. Into the deposito with you. Ah, that felt good. I also left a shawl in progress, not because I don't want to finish it, but because I think I may only finish it in a period of enforcement when there is no other project available. It's the color that irks me, a sort of lavender. I'm intending to give it away, but still, given the choice, I'll always put some other color in my hands.

While I was away I made one green alpaca sock that will be forever lonely because I didn't like the way it turned out and I'm not going to make another one. I made one blue wool cabled sock, whose partner is down to the heel. A turquoise (funny how that keeps popping up) lace foot item is also on the needles. It is done with some of the wool crepe yarn of recent WEBS sale fame, and #0 needles. The crepe yarn has some elastine or lycra in it, so it is very bouncy. I am not sure that I love the nubbly texture with the lace stitches, but I don't really dislike it either.

I got home just in time for a blizzard. It is being compared to "the one in '78". I remember an Ohio blizzard in '78, in which my brother and I went out bundled to the eyebrows in ski suits and scarves (and of course once I got outside I immediately had to pee). We made tunnels in the drifts and pretended to be animals. We had a whole complex of caves constructed by the time everything melted. Some of the most fun I've ever had. Presently the snow on my back patio is up to my nose. Trust me on this, because I shoveled through it. There would be plenty of room in there to make a cave or two...

Be that as it may, I'm hoping to get back into Projects and have some pictures or interesting things soon. One significant treat was waiting for me at the office today: four books I ordered before I left. Barbara Abbey's "Knitting Lace", Speiser's book on old english pattern books for loop braiding, and Janet Arnold's "Patterns of Fashion", two volumes, 1560 - 1620 and 1660 - 1860. I *love* these books-- if you have any interest in clothing construction, they are absolutely thrilling. All the garments are deconstructed into their various pieces, the drawings are meticulous, the details about ornamention are fantastic. Oh happy additions to my textile library.

There's another treat coming soon, a pretty big one, and I'm so anxious for it I can't describe it until it actually gets here in case it gets jinxed in some way. But of course you will know all about it when it comes.

clothing, costumes and stuff

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.