Sexy Steeks

MISSION IMPROBABLE: Create a bold vertical band on the cardigan front, using the same chart as the lower border. Unbidden, a vision of the finished thing came to me and would not let me out of its teeth.

But that’s not how knitting works: The chart demands to be worked horizontally, and crucially, in the round.

Exerpt from the Beautiful Mind notebook

I noodled on different ways to get what I wanted till my noodler was sore. Seriously, I experienced Intrusive Thoughts of the finished thing.

Do not try to explain this to anyone while you are knitting it

We’re used to picking up and knitting horizontal bands back and forth on cardigan fronts. It’s a short evolutionary hop to just join the ends of the band and work it as a tube. Right? Not crazy at all. Probably. I’m pretty sure.

This is just crazy enough to work, amiright??

From there it was clear to see I needed an equally-wide facing to cover the vertical steek. Leaving the work joined on my circular needle, I switched to knitting back and forth to work the facing because I didn’t want any extra bulk to deal with in finishing.

I mean, do you not?

Maybe this view of the operation will help: Once I cut this little steek, the front band will live free, as intended.

Front band steek, ready for thrill-seeking behavior

Secure , snip, block. Same thing we do every day.

Et Voila

Flip the big ol’ facing to the inside and work a little tailoring magic

This is where the Thistle goes from a flat piece of knitting to a 3D tailored garment. Fiddly? Possibly. Worth the fuss? 100%.

Okay, now I’m just showing off

Bang.

Because More is More, and how we get there is part of the fun.

Nuts and Bolts

Warning: This blog post contains graphic photos of sweater in progress being cut with scissors. Readers who don’t want to know how the sausage is made should maybe sit this one out.

The rubber is starting to hit the road, here at Mary Elizabeth Scott Handknitter International Headquarters. As always, while I knit/design, I keep meticulous notes about what I’m doing, how I’m doing it, and what numbers are involved. Usually they are scary-looking, and unintelligeable to anyone but me. For example, the scribble below represents a cross-section of the sweater body tube, with the division of stitches called out for cutting. My loved ones refer to my notebook as evidence of a “beautiful mind”.

The running commentary

Project Milestone: The sweater body tube is complete! Time to secure the center front and neckline steeks. This time I’m securing the steek with machine stitching. I’ve chosen this technique because it works best for the particular edge treatment I’ve imagined for the center front and neckline edges. It also allows me to simply cut off the 8 trillion yarn tails created during color changes in the knitting. That’s right: I WILL NOT BE WEAVING ANY TAILS. Let that sink in for a minute. I just CUT THEM ALL OFF:

Yarn tails in Combover formation

Yarn tails machine-secured along with steek stitches (tails controlled with painters tape)

Lift the tape to hold all the tails up for removal

Cut off all the tails close to the machine stitching

It’s okay; I’ll wait while your loved ones retrieve the smelling salts to revive you.

Next it’s time to plan the actual cutting. The center front steek is already secured in this photo, though the machine stitches are not visible from the front of the work. At the top of the body tube, you can see that all the knit stitches are still live. They’re divided into sections for shoulder seams, armhole slot locations and neckline areas, and held by waste yarn.

Blue cotton waste yarn markers in place for precision placement of front neckline curve

Surprise! I’ve created a smaller-scale version of the thistle border for the upper edge of the cardigan. Combined with the sexy edge treatments I have planned, it will draw attention up to your beautiful face. Because the wearer is the most important element of all my designs.

Tactical error requires surgical removal of the hem. Oops.

Mistakes are part of my process. Although the lower edge treatment was as beautiful as can be, I worked it too early. A more elegant order of operations is required, so away it goes (for now). I just snip out one round of knitting, placing the resulting live stitches on a slender needle as I go. Afterward, I’ll crochet a temporary waste yarn bindoff to hold them safe until I’m ready to work the final lower edge.

The most wonderful thing about knitting is that it never goes on your permanent record. There is almost nothing you can knit that can’t be turned back into yarn.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief glimpse into the process of translating my crazy into a coherent and knittable design. Next stop: Working a straight edge in a circle. Because why not?

I promise I am mad but North-Northwest.

Enamored

Have you ever experienced a visceral, physical craving to knit?

The Pink Thistle on Thanksgiving Day last week was moving to my office, but abandoned en route on the staircase.

You’re minding your own beeswax, doing something else. Some non-knitting, alledgedly productive but utterly mindnumbing thing, such as “work”, “grocery-getting”, or God help you, “housekeeping”.

That’s when it hits. The itch in the fingers to touch the wool. The shimmering vision of the Finished Thing, in the wearing or the giving, or just out in the world being seen.

The sense memories of the Making flood over you - the touch of the string - soft and smooth or firm and crunchy, the sweet smell of the wool and the irresistable gleam of the perfect, sleek needles.

They all sing their Sirens’ Call:

“Heed!” the Knitting shouts. “Abandon the banal and sink into our warm embrace! Here are comfort, and peace, and thoughtful intention.”

“But the chores,” you protest. “They matter not.” Says the Knitting. “Here is contentment. Here is contemplation. Here is your Happy Place!”

I gently steamed it flat in order to measure. 13 ½ inches long, gauge, spot on. And the Sirens continued their song.

So you have to relent. The pull is too beguling; the alternatives too mundane.

A peek at the steek, inside, where the colors change and the Magic happens.

You find the chair, the light, the cup of tea. The cat or dog curls up at your feet - they, too, know you have come back to where you belong. You pick up the knitting, and surrender to the spell.

Too bewitching to ignore…

Whatever you’re knitting, Gentle Readers, I wish you enchantment.