lyttelton

Hello! If you don’t come here for the knitting and are bored with talk of garment construction, stitch patterns, and the like, then my apologies. Move along please! Nothing to see here!

I can now report that another pattern is ready. This was a very interesting project for me, as it is the first garment I have designed in which I began by thinking about what writing a pattern would involve. Shrugs are pretty much a summer essential in my wardrobe: personally, I find that they are more wearable than shawls, and look neater than a cardigan over the dresses that I tend to favour at this time of year. Lots of knitters (like my sister) seem to make shrugs to match individual outfits, particularly those that they intend to wear at summer weddings. I’ve noted quite a bit of shrug-related discussion along these lines over recent months; for example here on stash and burn and here over at fig and plum.

Shrug-construction is an intriguing matter. Once one moves on from the basic idea of a side-to-side seamed rectangle, they can be formed in a multitude of ways: from centre to sides (as in Lisa Daehlin’s perenially popular Viennese Shrug), as a square or lozenge with a knit-on edging (as in Mel Clark’s lacy hug me tight), or in a novel modifed T-shape (as in Alice’s Ester). The diagram shows the construction I’ve used here. I started with a provisional cast on, knit up the back, increased stitches to shape the sleeves, put the centre stitches on hold for the neck, worked over the shoulders and fronts, and knit back down again, mirroring the back shaping. The seams are joined under the arms (where you don’t see ‘em), then stitches are picked up all the way round the front and back openings, and joined to those on-hold, before adding a ribbed edging which is worked in the round. The key to this construction is a stitch pattern that looks exactly the same right-way up and upside-down. I had such a one in mind, and built my shrug around a modified version of what Barbara Walker calls ’tilted ladder’, but which has other names elsewhere. This is the kind of lace-and-cable stitch that I really like. It is logical, it is rhythmic, it is fixed in my scatty brain after just one repeat, I can immediately see where I am in the pattern, and its so berloody simple even I can knit it on a train in a near-comatose state after a long day at work.

Its also one of those deceptive stitch patterns whose visual and textural interest suggests more complexity than it actually possesses. Ah yes! My very favourite kind. I’ve used a yarn with a bright, sharp stitch definition that I really like: rowan 4 ply soft. It shows off cables and lace superlatively well, is easy to care for, and comes in a good range of colours. One thing to note (if you are looking at the way the shrug sits in this photo) is that one of my physical peculiarities is a short torso, matched with comparatively long legs (long? who am I kidding? for I am 5 ft 2″). Anyway, the garment’s finished length is between 15 and 16 inches, and the back will look shorter on anyone whose torso is longer. There are just three easy fitting sizes in the finished pattern, which will accommodate any chest measurement from 28 to 44 inches. That’s it for the detail, then, but can I just say that from start to finish, this has been an immensely satisfying project? I enjoyed thinking about the design, loved knitting it, and am very pleased with the end result and indeed the finished pattern (though I do say so myself).

The design name is Lyttelton, and I shall now tell you why (though I fear my reasoning has a degrees-of-separation quality which makes it completely inexplicable). Here goes, anyway:
1) the pattern involves a lace trellis
2) the word ‘trellis’ kept popping into my head while I was knitting.
3) this put me in mind of Mrs Trellis of North Wales, the eccentric and mysterious correspondent of Radio 4’s long running antidote to panel games, I’m Sorry, I haven’t a Clue.
4) until his sad death last year, this show was chaired by the incomparable Humphrey Lyttelton, jazz trumpeter and comedy genius, who has held a place in my affections since my Dad took me to hear him play a gig in Todmorden in 1985.
5) this shrug’s for you, Humph.

Now to what you are all wanting to know if you have actually stayed with me thus far: where the hell were you throwing those shapes? Well, yes this is Scotland, and these photographs were taken a couple of weekends ago on Traigh Lar beach on the Hebridean island of Harris, a location of unique and tremendous beauty to which I am already looking forward to returning. That beach really is that incredible — the weather was hot, the sea was cool, the views were amazing, and there was no-one else around.

So to anyone who fancies knitting themselves a Lyttelton: the pattern is now available through ravelry or above from the designs page. And to my mother who has an unshakeable idea of Scottish island weather based on one blustery school trip to Arran many, many moons ago can I just say: Yes, Ma, Harris is just like Barbados.

cloudy

The cloud pattern is now ready, and you can find it here! To celebrate its release, I thought I’d show you some pictures (taken in a cloudy Edinburgh yesterday) which suggest the different ways that the sweater might be made and worn. Mel’s storm cloud (warning – rav link) is knit in a yarn (rialto 4 ply) that is both more drapey and more form-fitting than the bowmont braf that I used. The shift to a light, even yarn, together with the lack of pocket, turn the hoody from fuzzy and cartoon-like to sleek and sophisticated. The puffed sleeves make for a light and feminine summer sweater:

But you can still stick your hood up for some furtive window shopping. . .

i-cord (ah! the wonder!) gives a neat finish to the neckline. Check out the deep purple facings. Very stormy.

As you know, I love the finish on this sweater — the facings and edgings are what really make it for me — so the pattern takes its time over the finish, with stitching notes, and diagrams for clarity.

There are also instructions for an alternative, plain, lozenge-shaped pouch (if you don’t want a cloud, but do want a pocket on your sweater). I’ve written the pattern in nine sizes (covering girls 22 inch to woman’s 44 inch chest) and highlighted several points in the instructions at which you might modify the sweater to create the best fit for your body shape. Of course, the fact that the sweater is knit top-down makes it infinitely, and easily, modifiable. The neckline is nice without the hood, for example, and would look lovely with a different edging, (if one was, for some unaccountable reason, tired of all that icord). Hearty thanks to Mel for expert knitting and advice, as always. You can see some more photos of her looking fabulous in her storm cloud over on ravelry and acquire the pattern, if you are so inclined, above from the designs page. Cheers!

(thankyou, Gordon, for this great photo)

me news

Some of you may be interested to know that I’ve a feature in the new Rowan Magazine (no.46), which is out today. The piece is about British industrial textile history, and the past and future of two important mills — Cold Harbour, and New Lanark.* I really enjoyed writing this feature, as I’m sure you can imagine. In other me-related news, I have finally found some time to finish off not one, but two patterns, which I will be able to ‘release’ in a few days. The first is, at long last, the cloud (about which some of you have been asking) – hurrah! The second is what I am knitting here, on this Jura beach, several weeks ago.

More about this garment very shortly.

Thanks for your thoughts on the last post. I now find myself able to step back and ponder my own cashmere-antipathy, which — legitimate and important objections to a particular global economic model and and its environmental impact notwithstanding — I fear may also be tinged with a (perhaps suspect) aversion to cashmere’s (incidental?) associations with empire, excess, and a certain kind of femininity. Should one really condemn a fibre and an entire fibre industry because of the way its symbolic connotations feed into a particular (gendered) debate about luxury and the mass market? Because I feel that cashmere-as-commodity somehow offends my version of feminism? I feel much the same way about cupcakes, for example, but that doesn’t stop me enjoying them. And, as Colleen points out, pleasure is not an insignificant component of one’s relationship to ‘luxury’ textiles which can be consumed and enjoyed in thoughtful (and sustainable) ways. Heather also neatly puts her finger on my capacity for self-delusion. While I am a complete sucker for a certain kind of nationalistic marketing (the kind that involves sheep and rolling hills, roaming free and Yorkshire Tea, ahem) I sneer at another which (to me) unfortunately suggests lounge or leisure wear, golf**, and Ronnie Corbett (cue ‘sorry‘ theme tune). Show me a coachload of cashmere-clad English golfbuddies heading for the House of Bruar and I will run a mile. On the other hand, wave 100g of sludge coloured yarn under my nose that smells vaguely of the farmyard, with an ovine phizog depicted upon it, and I’ll have shown you the colour of my money before you can say “British Sheep Breeds.”

I also wanted to say how much I always enjoy your book recommendations, and to thank you for two recent ones in particular: Sigrun for Lucy Lippard’s The Lure of the Local and Kate M for the poetry of Sorley MacClean, which I am really enjoying, and wishing I could read in Gaelic.

*special thanks to Felix and the Felix-mobile
**apologies to Fiona

now available

the owlet pattern is now available on the designs page and through ravelry.

Included in the download are two separate patterns for the baby and kid owlet, covering 10 sizes from 6 months to 12 years. I’ve written the baby pattern in an aran weight, and the kids pattern in chunky weight yarn. When test knitting a number of yokes I found that while chunky owls rather overwhelmed a toddler-sized sweater, the sheer number of aran-weight owls did the exactly same for a kids sweater. Thus both the baby and kid owlets feature between 12 and 16 owls, which is plenty for a wee person, particularly when one considers sewing on all those button eyes. Both sweaters incorporate much more positive ease than the adult o w l sweater, so that they can be easily worn over layers of vests and t-shirts. They are also designed with a shallower yoke depth, and a wider neck than the adult o w l s, to allow for proportionately larger heads and smaller chests/shoulders. I’ve also included some (optional) gentle waist shaping at the top end of the kids owlet size range, which you may want to use if knitting for a girl.

Thanks for all your kind words about the general unpleasantness with which I’d rather this pattern wasn’t associated. I’d also like to thank Clothkits (with whom I was working on the intended owlet kit), for being so incredibly supportive. Yesterday, I had to write yet another formal letter of complaint to yet another company (based in Germany, this time) who were distributing the adult owl pattern from their website. My last word on this tedious little farrago is that, having taken some advice, I’ve decided to move the code of the adult o w l s from my site over to ravelry, where it will still be available as a free download. This may at least deter people from just nabbing the pdf and reproducing it elsewhere.

cheers, everyone, and enjoy the wee o w l s!

happy birthday, Doris

Doris is one year old tomorrow. She has really made my day. Thankyou, Doris, for providing these lovely, sunny pictures which will illustrate the imminent owlet pattern. And hearty thanks, too, to Abi and Alby who were kind enough to pop out and meet me this lunchtime. These photographs were taken in the small pavilion that forms part of the Queen Mother’s Memorial in Edinburgh’s Botanical Gardens. I love this tiny grotto-like building, and in this instance, my fondness for shell-lined interiors supersedes my antimonarchical tendencies. The pavilion is built of Caithness stone and while its interior walls are lined with mussels, scallops and spoots, the ceiling is decorated with highland fir-cones. It is a very beautiful and distinctly Scottish space.

Many happy returns to Doris, and many thanks, again, to Abi!

two-kates project bag

I’ve written a tutorial so you can stitch up your own one of these:

I’ve named it Two-Kates because two of us were involved in the design.
It’s very simple to make and I’m hoping (fingers crossed) that my instructions are easy to follow, even for a very beginner sewer. I’ve tried to spell everything out, but if you find anything woefully unclear, please do tell me.

You can download the PDF here:
TWO KATES
feel free to link, but please don’t reproduce the PDF on your own site.
Thankyou!

pattern now available

. . . via the link on the designs page. That’s it, really.

Edit: should also mention that the pattern comes in 10 sizes, ranging from kid’s 24 inch to woman’s 44 inch.