Button Auditions

Campbell fell off his friend's hoverboard last Friday night and has a concussion. He's confined to home with no screens, exercise or deep thoughts until further medical evaluation. Bizarrely, he declined to help me with the following, claiming a lack of interest. Obviously he has sustained some minor brain damage:

Here's the newly finished Jane's Addiction, drying on the blocking board. It's a great time to haul out the button collection and spend some quality time trying out candidates! What laundry/dishes/children-recuperating-from-concussions? My poor sweater is naked!

Contestant group 1: Antique black pressed glass with gold carnival glaze

Really beautiful buttons, but are they too small for the proportions of the sweater?

Contestant group 2: Antique red pressed glass with blue carnival glaze

Contestant group 3: Retro-looking rhinestones my sister picked out

Contestant group 4: Vaguely Nordic pewter. Nice size, a bit more subtle.

These are completely gorgeous. They actually read blue and gold against red.

The proportion is good, and they're pretty sassy. Jane would have loved these.

Contestant group 5: Tyrolean-ish pewter hearts. Sweet. Too sweet?

Okay, Gentle readers: Will you please help me out? Post a comment with a vote for your favorite! Unless you also have a concussion, in which case you are excused.

Revisiting My Mom

Mothers Day inspired me to get back to a project that's been on my back burner: My mom's favorite pattern.

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The Original Pattern

Part of a Fleisher's kit called "Yours Truly"

This is a photo of an original kit I found on E-bay. I don't think my mom ever had a kit. I think she was probably given the leftover pattern after some friend of hers finished a kit. Pure speculation, of course, but this is definitely the sweater she made at least ten times. 

One of my mom's extant versions

This one was worked from the bottom up, with handmade ring buttons. Nearly been loved to death, but still beautiful, in its way.

Although there were at least ten of these (probably more), no two were alike. She hacked the top-down original to work bottom-up, changed yarns, changed sizes, substituted different cables, you name it. Somewhere in storage there is even a kids' version in navy blue garter stitch (which would have been a completely different gauge!), with antique jet buttons. I like to think she made that one just for somewhere to use the buttons. I would have. With five kids, it probably fit somebody, at some point.

My first prototype

Lots of you have seen this on me and asked for the pattern, because I kind of never take it off.

Here's the first one I made after getting hold of the original pattern. I included mom's genius hack of carrying the raglan cables down the sides and into the ribbing. Totally makes the garment, IMHO. This one also has the original folded placket, but I chumped out on knitting the buttonholes and machine-sewed them instead. It needs some adjustments for modern wear, I think: The original doesn't have enough stitches across the back neck. I explored that problem back HERE. I also think there could be a little more ease in the sleeves. The original was designed to be worn alone, so the sleeves are pretty tight when I layer it over other clothes.

And of course, there is the sizing: The original pattern has two sizes: Small and Smaller. Not much use for those of us outside that range. And bizarrely, I just realized I have never extrapolated sizing for a top-down raglan before! The things I think I can do just because I never have before...Not to worry; I know a genius who can help. I'm looking at you Karen F.!

Various Stages of Completion

The blue one fixed the neckline and sleeves, but it's too big and I ran out of yarn. The red one is my attempt at spacing the buttonholes while retaining the prior fixes.

Third time's the charm? I started the red version because I really wanted to prove that I could manage the buttonholes (chumped out again on the blue one, telling myself I'd try afterthought buttonholes, which remain to be seen). I also am so frustrated about having run out of yarn on that one that I just started over. I'll have to address Blue-y at some point, but not today. I have a sinking feeling that the red one is going to be bigger than I want, but maybe not. Can't rightly tell yet. At least the buttonholes are on track. I think.

I had decided I was going to rename this pattern after my mom; Jane Wolff Scott. I still want to, but now that I've made (almost) three of them, I think I'm starting to understand why she couldn't stop knitting them. It's potato-chip knitting, pure and simple. So I think a better name might be "Jane's Addiction".

Thanks for leaving me this gorgeous puzzle to solve, Mom. Working on it is a little bit like being with you again. Happy Mothers Day.

Uncharted Territory

I had planned to start talking about yarn shopping today, because, well YARN. But I started looking at the original Roan chart and decided I have some preliminary work to do on it. Like, a LOT, to make it into a chart I'd want (or want to let you) knit. And then I realized you might find this part interesting, so I'll show you!

Click to enlarge

Here are the things that would make me hate knitting this chart, as it was originally published:
1.  It's intended to be knit flat. Yup. Our friends in England love stranded colorwork, but they sometimes expect us to knit it flat, which would mean purling back in pattern, which requires us to read our charts in reverse every other row. Eeewwwwww. And stranded colorwork, as a fabric, likes to get really arsed up when it's knit flat, unless you know and implement some pretty extreme maneouvers to compensate. When we knit our stranded colorwork in the round, as God intended,  all these issues are completely erased.

2.  While I'm on the subject (and dangerously close to ranting), I'd like to state for the good of the order: THIS IS STRANDED COLORWORK, NOT FAIR ISLE KNITTING. Sorry for yelling but I would expect the staff of Rowan, who are actually IN Great Britain, to exhibit a better understanding of their own indigenous knitting traditions. They actually call it Fair Isle in the pattern text. It's not Fair Isle unless it obeys these (and other) rules:

A. Fair Isle stranded colorwork is knit in the round. Period.

B. Fair Isle stranded colorwork uses traditional/geographical motifs; nearly always some variation of knots, crosses, and trees of life. None of these are present in Roan.

C. Fair Isle motifs share common stitch counts, and/or multiples of those counts, which allow them to stack up upon each other round by round and line up with mathematical precision. Roan contains six different motifs, with no less than six different stitch counts. Not only do they not stack up neatly, they barely all fit into the same sweater at all. More on that as we go along.

D. Fair Isle motifs are nearly always symmetrical, and if not, they are mirrored on the piece. These are neither symetrical, nor mirrored, nor even centered.

3.  There are decreases indicated at the sides of the assumed flat-knit body panels. And they are weird, to my eye. They are only 2 sts each, and occur at odd places on the body (all in the hip area). They also, if worked, would be very disruptive to the charted pattern. So because they would only amount to a collective 3/4" change in the garment circumference, in an otherwise extremely loose-fitting (more on that later) silhouette, I'm eliminating them. I suspect they were added by pattern-grading software somewhere along the line, and not caught by the humans.

4.  All of the pattern bands need to be centered on the center back of the body (look closely at the scrolly thing - it's not), and need to be mirrored (reversed) along a center axis of the body. You may disagree with me on the mirroring, so feel free to ignore this next part: It's my personal preference that stranded colorwork motifs are either symmetrical (like the birds), or if directional, that they reverse direction at the center back, center front, or topline of the sleeve. It's just a thing I'm hyper about, and if you are looking at a collection of my sweaters, you may not notice that this is going on, but I promise you'll notice that they look well thought-out and precisely executed. This is one of the reasons why.

5.  There are some ways that designers can make knitting charts friendly to knitters. The first is to make them digital, so you can mess with them and tweak them just the way you want on your device of choice, or at least easily enlarge them to make it safer for your eyes. So my Roan Retool will be digital. Another thing we should always do for you is use actual colors in the chart, rather than symbols or monotone shading. Same reason: If I want you to continue knitting my designs, I'd better respect your eyesight by drawing a legible chart.

6. This seems like a small thing, but it's not. It's the only reason why I recommend that beginning stranded colorwork knitters start out with my patterns, rather than some other designer's: The Tacking of Floats. A couple of posts ago, I showed you the insides of some stranded colorwork, where you can see that I never ever tack floats (twist one strand around the other). It's the single biggest reason why my knitting seems like cohesive flat fabric, instead of a puckered gauge experiment. Tacking floats causes more problems for new stranded colorwork knitters than any other thing. The best cure is not to do it. So what happens when you are knitting a chart like Roan, that has giant stretches of unused color? Look at the top round of the birds panel: There are actually 63 stitches between uses of the motif color in that repeat. Are you supposed to really have a float of 63 stitches (10 1/2")? No, of course not. It's my job as a designer not to saddle you with a knitting problem like that, built right into the design. I think it's unforgivable when someone does that to knitters. There are three ways to deal with a giant empty patch of unused color in a pattern: 1. Hunt down and throttle the designer. Just kidding. 1. Tack the long float in such a way as to not disrupt the knitted fabric (extremely hard to pull off). 2. Leave an unnaturally long float. I'd call the limit on this something like 10 or twelve sts, and it only works if you are using nice, sticky traditional Fair Isle yarn, such as a 2-ply shetland. or 3. Change the chart so the second color does not go unused for more than a reasonable number of sts. I'm going to go with option 3, so my chart will look somewhat different to the original. If you like the long stretches of negative space, then by all means, tack your floats, or leave them long. You'll be able to compare the original chart to my retooled version when I'm done and make your own decision.

Okay, I'm sure you'll agree that I have some work to do on this chart in order to make myself happy with it, so I'll quit preaching to the choir for now. Here's a screen shot of the chart rework in progress, to give you an idea how I'm doing it:

Click to enlarge

See? I've already fixed the centering problem with the scrolly border, and mirrored both it and the braids. Notice how the braids made little hearts at the center back? Total accident, but I love it. And now the scrolls undulate one way on the left side of the body, and the other on the right. They'll mirror beautifully at the center front, regardless of where your size ends in the chart. Better, no? 

Stay tuned for the big chart reveal, and of course, our favorite: Yarn Shopping!