mead mountain x2

A White Christmas! And time, once again, to ascend mead mountain. Does doing this more than once make it a ritual or tradition? Whatever it is, the excitement of uncovering a bottle of home-brewed mead, buried at the top of a mountain, really never goes away. This bottle had a full twelve months to mature in its trusted site . . .

. . . and if possible, it tasted even better than last year’s vintage. Slainte!

To add even more fun to the mix, we had brought our fell shoes along with the idea of having a reviving Christmas run in the snow. So I took off my boots and donned my trusty Walshes (thanks once again for the super socks, Viv!) . . .

I can assure you that mead plus fell shoes is quite a heady combination. The feet securely grip the ice; the body glows with the power of delicious home-brewed fuel; one generally feels quite invincible. It was an exhilarating descent.

Phew! After a crazy snowy hurtle, we made our way homeward, stopping off at the allotment to collect the finishing touches for dinner.

It was very satisfying indeed to pull something we’d grown out of the cold ground. And one of my favourite gardening buddies stopped by to say Merry Christmas.

The allotments looked beautiful in the snow.

We are having a lovely holiday, and I hope you are too, however you like to spend it. Thanks so much for being with me throughout December, and particularly for all your comments, which I always appreciate and love to read. Seasonal joy to you, till we meet again in 2010!

twenty four

There could only be one choice for the final door of the advent calendar — Jesus!

This is Jesus’s tenth Christmas, but he is still as sprightly and daft as when he first moved in with us. For the first few years of his life, we lived in several different places, and he accepted each move, each unfamiliar home, with quiet equanimity. When we finally settled in our upper-storey locale five years ago, he devised a particularly cunning method of entering and exiting — leaping out of or into the bathroom window by means of the adjacent plum tree. This tree is his favourite place to be at all times of the year. It is his refuge from the annoyances of neighborhood cats and squirrels, the predations of the occasional fox, or me and my camera. You will note that his default expression is one of slight confusion — just one of the many characteristics that makes him a particularly endearing feline companion. He looks forward to the festive season as it means a break from his usual Spartan diet of spacefood — if he’s good, he might even get some guinea fowl tomorrow.

Well, Jesus’s birthday is now upon us and, wherever you are in the world and whatever you are doing, he, Tom, and I wish all of you the very best for the festive season and new year!

twenty three

The audience assemble to hear Handel’s Messiah at the Queen’s Hall. A lovely evening!

twenty two

Cake time! Well, not quite yet: time, rather to apply the marzipan . . . then icing. The smell when we unwrapped the greaseproof paper was utterly delicious.

Reversible Knitting: a conversation about sizing

(the front cover of Reversible Knitting features Norah Gaughan’s innovative Reverse Me jacket)

Today, I’m very pleased to introduce Lynne Barr, whose recently published Reversible Knitting has already become a must-have knitting title. The first part of Lynne’s book explores her original and exciting approach to stitch, with fifty swatches that that will make your eyes pop, your jaw drop, and your hands immediately get busy with needles and yarn, to work out exactly how she managed to do that.

(Lynne’s “Half Nelson” pattern – one of my favourite stitches in Reversible Knitting)

The book’s second part features some incredibly inspiring takes on the idea of reversibility itself, with twenty patterns from all of your favourite designers. There’s a great range of garments here that are both experimental and wearable: dresses and tunics, vests and sweaters, knitwear for the shoulders, feet, and head. Some of these innovative garments can be turned inside-out, or outside-in—such as Veronik Avery’s classic Lice Jacket, or Teva Durham’s bold Geometric Dress. Others, like Lynne’s playful Two Tone Vest or her stylish and eye-catching Folded Mini Dress can be worn back-to-front or front-to-back. Wenlan Chia and Norah Gaughan, meanwhile, have contributed designs that work equally well downside-up or upside-down. Chia’s Winding Path transforms itself from cropped-sweater to long tunic, and the cable-adorned shawl collar of Gaughan’s Reverse Me jacket morphs easily into a deep and richly textured waist band. In the world of reversible design, there is no right or wrong side—but how does one go about sizing these unique garments for a range of different body shapes? Lynne, and the tech editor for Reversible Knitting, Sue McCain, dropped by to tell us more.

(Lynne Barr’s Two Tone Vest)

KD: Recently I’ve been thinking more about sizing in order to extend the range in my own patterns, so I wonder how much more complex it was to size some of the reversible garments in your book?

LB: Sue McCain, our tech editor for the book, sized all of the patterns, and I too wonder what additional issues she had to contend with — in particular for Reverse Me by Norah Gaughan and Winding Path by Wenlan Chia. Both of those sweaters are designed to be inverted top to bottom, and I believe most women don’t have identical bust and hip measurements. But in both designs, having one wearable version short and the other long when flipped upside down, eliminates the need for both measurements around the bottom to fit the widest part of a body. It’s a clever design element that serves two purposes – to increase the visual difference between the two versions and to simplify potential fit problems.

(Winding Path worn as a cropped empire-style sweater)

KD: That’s really ingenious—in the book, the two versions do look very different, while both fitting well. Did these upside-down reversible designs involve their own unique sizing problems?

LB: Let’s bring in Sue, and hear her thoughts on the sizing of Winding Path.

SMC: Working with the large gauge and 4-stitch rib pattern repeat while grading Winding Path was the biggest challenge. With a gauge of 1.375 stitches per inch over the rib pattern, each four-stitch sizing increment used to maintain the pattern added just under 2.75”. Fortunately, the finished piece is fairly forgiving in terms of stretch, and the fit of the stockinette stitch portion is intended to be close to the body.

(Winding Path worn tunic-length)

KD: And did grading Reverse Me pose a different set of challenges?

SMC: The most important task when grading Reverse Me was to really understand how the pieces went together, and how changing the length and width of each piece would affect the other pieces. When grading any pattern, it’s important to remain true to the proportions of the original size, while keeping in mind potential fit issues arising from increasing or decreasing the measurements. The back width at the cast on edge was decided by the desired bust sizes, and once this width was determined, it was easy to grade the remaining dimensions following the proportions of the original garment. We did, however, keep some of the measurements fairly close from one size to the next (neck width, sleeve length and width, length to armhole) as these are dimensions that don’t change much from the smaller end of the size range to the larger end. Aside from limiting the size range, the reversibility of Reverse Me didn’t present any special issues.

(Reverse Me worn both ways)

KD: I had a sort of eureka moment while grading my manu pattern, when I realized how very little the neck width would differ between smaller and larger sizes. Proportional progression is one the things I’ve been finding most interesting (and tricky) the more I explore sizing from a design perspective. In “standard” sizing terms, I’m quite wee — 30″ chest, 23″ waist, 34″ hips. My fuller-figured friend might think she has little in common with my body shape — and yet when you work out the percentages — my proportions are actually exactly the same as hers (44″ chest 34″ waist, 50″ hips) — we are both equally proportioned pear shapes. Why can’t the smaller and the larger “pear” wear exactly the same style of garment, equally successfully? I’m still finding my way with this (when I began designing my size ranges were quite conservative) but am hoping to improve my sense of how garments work for fuller figures by getting feedback from test knitters in that size range.

LB: I’m not sure that sizing is a simple proportional progression though. When Sue sized the Folded Mini Dress in Reversible Knitting, I noticed that the armhole shaping changed significantly from the two smaller sizes I had already knit. Sue explained that the span under the arm is a greater percentage of the overall chest measurement in the larger sizes than in the smaller ones. And she also pointed out that if sweaters were a constant incremental increase for each size, plus sizes would have shoulders that would be enormous and they’re not.

KD: The variance of underarm width really does add another dimension. And then, within a single size range, individual body shapes can be so very different when one starts to consider waist position, shoulder width and so on . . .

LB: This makes me recall years ago when I worked for a bathing suit designer, whose business consisted of mostly custom-made work. It seemed easier working with an actual body to measure and fit rather than trying to fit everyone into a standard ready-to-wear suit. But still, we generally started a fitting with specific styles depending on the individual’s body type and whether they needed support, or wanted to look like they had more than they did. But I hate to think that a style was chosen simply based on some stereotype of what should or should not be worn by different people.

(Lynne’s fab Folded Mini Dress)

KD: Yes, the idea that there are definitive ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ styles for particular body sizes can be so prohibitive. Perhaps it’s just a mater of knitters being brave enough to experiment, feeling confident about adding shaping or changing a part of the sizing of a pattern to suit their particular body shape, as well as being able to visualize oneself in a range of different garment styles. I think it’s often difficult for knitters to picture themselves in a piece they only ever see in one size — and then there is the problem of encountering patterns that really don’t seem to accommodate body shapes outside the US or UK “standard” size range. I wondered whether you had any thoughts on the ways in which “non-standard” knitters might adapt Reverse Me or Winding Path?

SMC: For Winding Path, if you want to work larger sizes than offered in the book, it’s easy to do. While maintaining the given gauge, for every 4 stitches you add to the cast-on, you will add roughly 3″ to the circumference of the piece. When shaping the armhole, work half of the stitches before transferring them to the stitch holder. The sleeves can be graded in increments of 4 stitches as well – just make sure that you work a longer armhole length on the body to accommodate them. We don’t recommend working Reverse Me any larger than the largest size given, unless you don’t intend to wear the piece upside-down, because the bottom band has to increase quite a bit as the sizes get larger, and it will hang too low when worn upside-down.

(Teva Durham’s Geometric Dress, worn both ways)

LB: One last thing for knitters who believe there is a dearth of patterns, both smaller and larger than the typical middle range, I recommend they visit Sue’s website. She offers a line of knitting patterns with the widest range I’ve seen — sizes xx-small to 6x-large. And to expand your sizes upward, this site featuring plus-size patterns looks like a great resource.

KD: I second the recommendation of Sue’s website. And for those of us at the other end of the sizing scale, I remember Kristen Hanley Cardozo writing about some of the issues encountered by xxs knitters in a particularly moot and interesting way.

LB: Kate, I’ve enjoyed meeting you. Thanks so much for having me on your blog… the topic of sizing is an interesting one that I think merits more in depth attention.

KD: Thanks so very much for being here, Lynne, and Sue, and for opening up a really stimulating discussion. I feel I’ve learnt a lot from your insights on sizing and grading. Very many congratulations on an inspired and inspiring book.

twenty one

I find the way that St Nick endlessly duplicates himself at this time of year both amusing and mildly sinister (in the way that clowns, or clones, are sinister). You just can’t move for Santas! There’s one waving at passing traffic outside Newington’s “Tree Empire”; another one greets you with a tray of mince pies as you pop into a garage on the A82. They are everywhere: driving buses, delivering mail, selling fish. For me, Santa’s exuberant multiplication sums up the excess that is so characteristic of the season. Unfortunately, I never seem to have my camera at the ready whenever I spot one of these jolly duplicates knocking about town, but here are some wind-up ones.

twenty

You will note that this advent calendar is turning out to have a determinedly snowy theme. Behind today’s door are some images from our lovely weekend away in the woods and hills. I do enjoy the snow — both for walking, and for photographing. I love its eerie quietness; its crazy, sculptural qualities; the incredible things it can do to the light. When you look at a snowy place from a distance, it seems almost felted, softened, somehow — its sharp edges smoothed away — as if the landscape were sleeping, or at rest. Close up, though, you see that the landscape isn’t sleeping at all, but rather that it has assumed a new outlandish, wintry form. The snow effects a total transformation as it covers the landscape, enacting its own playful metamorphoses. I like the way that it gave each reed its own little hat . . .

. . . and made these grasses shimmer with their own delicate sort of bling . . .

. . . these seed husks bend and tremble under a snowflake frosting . . .

. . . and the shape of these new buds is mirrored in the snow droplets beneath them. . .

I spent a long time with the underside of this fallen tree.

It is a bare, dead thing — but the snow makes it marvellous, makes it more than itself. . .

Snow, of course, is treacherous as well as beautiful, and I hope all is very well with those of you on the other side of the Atlantic, for whom snow has meant severe storms, punishing temperatures, and terrible disruption over the past couple of days.

To close this snowy post, here is a West Highland forest in the act of transformation.

done

nineteen

Now, I looked for an ass, but there were none to be found — no doubt they were all sensibly hunkering in a stable somewhere. I knew where I could reliably find an ox, though. This is Hamish, and at all times of the year he can be seen outside Kilmahog woollen mill. Hamish is probably the most photographed coo in Scotland, and he has become an attraction in his own right. During the Summer months, when we drive past him on our way to the Highlands, he is generally surrounded by a busload of adoring tourist buddies, feeding him apples and marveling at his horn span. And no wonder – for what a handsome, impassive beast he is!

eighteen

Behind today’s advent calendar door is Ernest Shackleton’s ship, Endurance, photographed in 1915 by Frank Hurley. This startling image — which suggests the engulfing beauty of the Antarctic landscape, as well as the vulnerability of the ship (and all things human) within it, features in an exhibition I saw recently at Holyrood. Hurley was a superlative photographer of texture, and his images of the breaking up of the Endurance after it became trapped in the ice are particularly startling and powerful. I was even more drawn, though, to the terrifying quietness of Herbert Ponting’s images of Scott’s Terra Nova expedition. The brutal materiality of some of these photographs was quite gripping, and tremendously moving. It will be no surprise to you that I spent a lot of time focusing on what Scott’s party were wearing: their socks, their sweaters, their balaclavas, their skins and fur. I am reading lots about the history of outdoor wear at the moment, as well as being in the process of making some for myself, and I will say more about this another time. Anyway, if you are in or near Edinburgh, I heartily recommend you go and see this super exhibition. If not, you can enjoy it in a virtual sort of way through its excellent website (and accompanying audio commentary / podcast). Meanwhile, we are off to our own landscape of ice and snow today to celebrate Tom’s birthday in true Highland style. Hope you have a lovely weekend!

peek

As I’m on a monochrome theme today, here is a sneak peek at a new design — the next in a series of creature-themed kids’ garments I’m planning — a menagerie, if you will. This one is made for a wee boy — can you guess which beastie inspired it? (Clue: it featured in the final episode of Life). Also, a quick heads-up that Lynne Barr will be here for a conversation about stitch and sizing on the 22nd. I’m really looking forward to it! You can follow Lynne on her blog tour over at Melanie Falick’s — and, if you are quick, those of you on the other side of the Atlantic can also enter a competition here to win a copy of Reversible Knitting — a must for every contemporary knitterly bookshelf.