Author: Rebecca Tyrrell

World Textiles

I knew the job was risky….but I still went in. Saw this at the library, leafed through it, and knew immediately that I was going to have to order my own copy.

Branching out a bit from my usual posts with this particular book, World Textiles A Visual Guide to Traditional Techniques is a beautiful reference book about traditional textile art, ranging from weaving, dyes, embroidery, knitting, crocheting, naalbinding, traditional lace making, and much more. I knew for certain that I was doomed to order my own copy when I flipped it open and saw the full-color photographs of bobbin lace and an antique photo of a French woman with a magnificent lace headdress. Diving in further, there is so much detail on every page about the textile topic at hand, and the technique is so lovingly described. “There are many valuable volumes that concentrate either on an intensive study of one specific aspect of textile construction or decoration, such as weaving, dyeing, or embroidery, or are devoted to the textiles produced in one geographic region. In this book, by displaying the fabrics of many places side by side, we hope to provide a basis for comparison and thereby a greater understanding of the techniques involved…”

The first section is about the materials, such as leather and suede, wool, felt, cotton, silk, bark, etc. For instance, I learned that “in Central Africa a sheet of bark is removed from the tree, steamed to soften it and then placed over a log and beaten with grooved wooden mallets until the fibres become felted together. The fibres lies longitudinally and beating causes the fabric to stretch widthways, resulting in a large sheet of cloth.” The book was published in London, hence the spelling.

Next up are the non-woven textiles, like knitting (but not just plain, there are multiple sections within, such as textured stitches and multi-colored knitting), crochet (just the one section, though), macrame, and the lace that hooked me.

There is an incredible amount of information on weaving, covering topics as diverse as twill tartan weave, Korean damask, and the woven strips of kente cloth from Ghana. Printed textiles are next, describing different methods for printing directly onto cloth such as woodblock printing and stenciling. Next up is a large section on dyes, ranging from indigo dyes, “…the oldest dyestuff known to man, having been in use since 2500 BC…”, to tie-dying, which turns out to be much more complex than the huge, eye-searingly bright t-shirts from when I was a kid in Girl Scouts. Moving on from that, sewing comes next, with applique techniques and quilting styles, to embroidery, and a section on embellishment techniques to wrap up the book.

This book is fantastic. I could read it for days. It may be my desert island book.

Knitted Jackets

Cheryl Oberle differentiates cardigans and sweaters and other garments meant as an outer layer by the elements and construction in her designs. “Knitted jackets very widely in style from short and fitted to long and roomy. Structure of the jackets is, for the most part, simple; there is no elaborate shaping and most are designed to have a minimum number of seams, allowing them to be ‘knitted together’ rather than sewn.” In Knitted Jackets 20 Designs from Classic to Contemporary, Cheryl sticks to her design principles. The patterns in this book are mostly basic, with a larger ease than normal for use as a true outer layer over other clothing. The designs themselvse are unique to each other, and despite the book coming out in 2008 remain entirely wearable.

The designs range from full-size cabled jackets like the Edwardian Day Coat with classic lines and clean, swooping cables to Inish, which knit in a tight-enough gauge would probably be bullet-proof. There are lacy boleros and classy stranded, sculptural styles like Ivory Leaves and Bergen.

The only jacket that I don’t think I’d make would be the Baltic Bodice, but that mostly stems from the rather unfortunate photo styling and yarn colors used. All I could think of looking at it was that it was crooked on the model, and would probably fall right off if you didn’t hold it closed. The contrast between the black of the body and the white and black textured sleeves make it look unbalanced. Looking at the schematic it’s entirely a trick of the eye. That’s entirely my personal opinion though, and in colors that were a bit more subtle the jacket would be lovely indeed. Seeing that styling decision was pretty shocking, because between this book, Folk Vests, and Folk Shawls I have never once noticed something less than flattering, but it only stuck out to me because the other 99 percent of the time everything about the styling in her books is perfect.

Since this isn’t in her Folk series, we don’t get as much as the historical background behind the inspiration , but there is still plenty to learn. She’s gone out of her way to use yarns from the cultures she was inspired by, which is a nice touch.

I’ve managed some decent progress on my Egyptian Socks . There is something to be said for stranded socks, they seem to come together so quickly they knit themselves. I’m using a black-gray variegated tonal yarn with a solid colored yarn, which gives the pattern serious depth.

Folk Socks

Folk Socks, the History and Techniques of Handknitted Footwear by Nancy Bush, assuming you believe the describing paragraph on the back of the updated 2011 copy, “Originally published in 1994, Folk Socks kicked off the sock-knitting phenomenon, as it taught knitters in North America all about how to knit socks with a heritage, using Nancy Bush’s careful instructions, charts, and illustrations.” I have a sneaking suspicion that knitters in North America were knitting socks with a heritage long before 1994, but I do think this book had a lot to do with the persistent popularity of sock knitting. Other than cold feet.

Taking a flip through it, I’m drawn to the patterns that have a little bit of intricate detail to off-set a plainly textured background, like the Estonian Socks that are featured on the front cover. The patterns are evenly divided between solid-colored socks with detail in the knit texture, and socks that are more about color and pattern. The first few sections are especially valuable, as Nancy Bush describes multiple techniques for knitting sock toes and heels, and the patterns in the later sections put the techniques to work.

Nancy Bush being Nancy Bush with a love of historical detail that reminds me of Cheryl Oberle, she spends the first few sections writing about the history of knitted socks, from their origins, methods of construction, and details of British and European sock knitting.

The only thing that I noticed, and that Nancy herself brings up, is that most of the patterns are designed around an “average” sized foot, which in this book means around a size 7-8. Now, I never thought of my feet as particularly tiny, but as a size six I’m going to have to adjust every pattern in this book. Luckily, because my gauge runs large that’s an easy fix, as I can use my usual 00 sock needles and stick to sock yarn and that should do the trick without having to adjust the actual patterns much. The majority of socks in this book call for larger needles like ones and twos, and some even call for thicker yarn so that’s an easy shift. Having said that, and not having forgotten my other projects but realizing that life is short, after I got home from work, took out the trash cans, let out the dog, and got dinner started, I cast on for a pair of Egyptian Socks. Just couldn’t help myself.

A flash of the stash

I have been very boring recently. What do I want to write about? Fiber books that I’ve ordered that are still on their way? Folk Socks by Nancy Bush and World Textiles by John Gillow and Bryan Sentance is my birthday gift to myself this year. Socks that aren’t finished yet? Although today at the gallery was exceptionally slow due to the weather so I did get about three-quarters of the leg finished on my second Gold Digger, so there is a pretty good chance I can knock them out this three-day weekend. Or about my recent completely unexplained addiction to bread baking? Challah rolls and half of a Greek country loaf in the fridge and the dough for pepperoni rolls is rising on the back of the stove.

Then I got to thinking about the tradition on Ravelry of the annual yarn stash flash. You gather all of your yarn and fiber together and give it a good airing. My stash usually lives in two large soft-sided sweater bags that are unceremoniously tossed in my closet so it deserves a break. You then take a picture (or pictures) and add them to the thread. The point of the flash isn’t so much about showing off, or wanting others to tremble in the face of your grand yarny acquisitions, but to remind yourself of what you have. It’s a trip down memory lane also, in a way. There’s the last skein of gray Northampton from the wedding sweaters, and the remaining balls of Bamboo Pop in gray and green from both the lace shirts I knit this year.

Looking at it all at once gives you a good look at your preferences in color and fiber. I can see that I’m a bit everywhere when it comes to color, but that my kitchen cotton stash is running a bit low, so I will probably stock up again soon. I’m looking pretty good on sock yarn, so probably will hold off on buying more until I finish a pair. The Berroco Vintage smack in the middle that is supposed to be light green looks really gray in comparison to the Ella Rae Classic in purple at the bottom edge, so I think I’m going to use the Ella Rae for my upcoming Ruby for my mother’s wedding in May. That Plymouth Jeannee in the bottom left looks even more like a flesh tone than I though when I bought it online, not quite sure what I was thinking when I ordered that but I’ll make it work somehow.

What does your stash (whatever it may be that you collect) look like?

Wendy Knits

One of my dreams is to have a room dedicated solely to books. I picture myself like Belle, blue dress, rolling ladder, zooming from one end to the other searching for that perfect book. Then I consider the reality, getting my skirt caught in the rungs, wear-and-tear on floors, and accidentally clipping the cat. I literally dream about having a larger house for more books, and it always leaves me slightly annoyed in the morning. A bit irritating to dream about something that is so not in the financial cards right now.

As it is, I’m running out of fiber books to discuss. Both my Alice Starmore books still sit on the shelf, but she scares me. She, or at least she used to be very particular about her patterns, from what colors she wants you to use to how and where you adapt her work. I know I’m quite small town as far as knitting blogs go, but from now on she will henceforth be known as The Scottish Knitter. Just kidding, please don’t show up at my house, Alice! An easy problem to fix, sure, but storage does become a bit of an issue. Matter of fact, though, I have Cheryl Oberle’s Knitted Jackets on the way. I also ordered Atlas Obsura’s travel guide. I could spend hours on that website. Each link leads to another fascinating place.

Anyhow, reading Wendy Johnson’s Wendy Knits reminds me of Atlas Obscura in the narrative style. It reads like a diary in which pages patterns are interwoven. She discussed her early days of learning how to knit, what she was thinking while writing the patterns, and what was going on in her life to inspire them. At the time the book was written she was working in Washington, D.C, so it’s a nostalgic trip for me to read it, because I went to college in DC and spent quite a lot of time in the area. She even mentions Knit Happens, a sadly now closed yarn shop that was one of the very first proper local yarn stores (LYS, doncha know, in fiber terms) I got to visit. The patterns range from a simple ribbed scarf to a steeked and multi-colored Ingrid pullover. In my opinion most of the knits are on the simple side, but sometimes you just need something that doesn’t stretch your skills to the limit.

She’s since then published two other books, both on sock knitting. Hmm…something to consider looking further into, as soon as I make a hole in the time-space continuum for storage space.

Knitting Pattern Essentials

Welcome to the new year! New decade, too. Had a moment of temporary paralysis when I realized I’d be forty years old by the end of it.

Then I cast my mind back to the beginning of last decade when I was just turning 20, and thought about how much has changed since then. Thought about what a massive twerp I was at 20 and how much less twerpish I became. Things can only get better.

Back to the subject matter at hand. Sally Melville, author of Knitting Pattern Essentials has Opinions. Capitalization for emphasis. She doesn’t draft patterns that are knit in the round because she believes “the seams of the garment are its skeleton, holding it to shape.” I remember reading another knitter’s work who advised the opposite, saying that knitwear, by its very nature is stretchy and we shouldn’t design a knitting pattern and base it on the construction of a sewing pattern because the two methods are inherently different. Deborah Newton….? Maybe? Or Barbara Walker. The only downside to having a large and varied fiber reference library (other than the finite nature of square footage in a house) is that you can read something, commit the basic principles to memory, and then forget who wrote it. Melville also doesn’t think much of sweaters knit from the top down, or from side-to-side. She knows her design strengths and preferences, and sticks to them in this book.

“This is not a design book. Design is different from drafting, and this book is about the latter — the practical mechanics and support material that bring your vision to life. Design is about finding that vision — wherer to look for inspiration, how to choose yarns, what colors work together, how to envision stitch patterns in combination, and so on. I am not a teacher of design (…) but I am a teacher of drafting and technique.” This book is about developing the techniques to make a designed garment a success.

While there are a few patterns in this book at the end as practical applications, the majority of this book is about the knowledge that builds up to support the design process. The first section is on properly taking measurements and applying ease, swatching and being able to read that swatch so you know what to expect, and standard sizes. The following chapters zero-in on elements of drafting, such as shaping, hems, sleeves, necklines, etc. Although she makes it clear in the introduction not to expect a stitch dictionary or basic knitting techniques, she does touch on them in the appendix.

Looking at the patterns themselves, I’m especially drawn to the Lace-Paneled Top, which is also on the cover. It’s a flowing sleeve-less top with a sculptural lace panel in the center. I can see it in a silky yarn for a special occasion, and also in something a bit more workhorse-y for whenever.

All points considered, this is an informative, enlightening book to any adventurous knitter who wants to really understand a pattern.

New knits for New Years

A while back when I first read Around the World in Knitted Socks I went out and bought as much solid-colored sock yarn as I could afford, because the majority of the patterns in that book have you juggle multiple yarns at once. I went to my local yarn store Untangled Purls (by the way, you know you have found your home when you hear frequent commercials for a yarn store over the radio) and bought a few colors from different brands. I knit a pair of Green Isle with using white and red Lang Super Soxx (discontinued, not shockingly) and noticed almost immediately that I was shredding the life out of the red parts almost every time I wore them. Now, I’m hard on my socks (and my feet) so I expect to see signs of wear after a while but not nearly that quick. After darning them five or six times in a four-month period I said screw it and tossed them. Then I got curious and took a look at the remaining skein of the shred-happy sock yarn and read that it was 100% wool, with no nylon content. The majority of sock yarns like Regia (practically bullet-proof) have nylon added to make them much more resistant to normal wear and tear.

I didn’t want to waste the last skein so I ended up casting on a lace scarf from Victorian Lace Today and it’s going to be a perfect holiday gift for a friend of mine, just her color!

Also, I bit the bullet and bought a pattern that I’ve wanted to knit for years, Ruby by White Lies Design. I’m attending a wedding in May, so this would be perfect! I’ll knit it in either Ella Rae Classic Superwash in purple or Berroco Vintage in light green. We’ll see how subtle I feel like being.

I intend to knock out my afghan, too. Every once in a while I get a second wind on it and get several rows done, then it goes back in the box and sits for a month. I started it last March, what do you say I set a goal to finish by this upcoming March? Make it a solid year.

Going in half-socked

Decided during the loooonnnng pre-holiday commute home that my holiday present to all of you was going to be a photo of my bony, haven’t-painted-my-toenails-since-August foot. Had plenty of time to debate touching up my toes before I posted it, but I want to be authentic with you. You get a lot of time for personal contemplation on the highway home. Nothing quite so bad as the I-64 sixty-plus car pileup, though. Makes you realize that hanging out on 95 with all your new best friends is a picnic in comparison.

The first Gold Digger is nearly done, should knock it off tonight. I’ve noticed that the fleegle heel is a bit huge on me. The pattern has you increase stitches for the heel in a triangular gusset, then decrease for the instep and bottom of the foot rapidly in a straight line. Neat concept, but it reminds me of why I almost always knit a short-row heel, instead. A short-row heel makes a much smaller heel that’s more form-fitting, and uses less yarn. I considered switching to a short-row but wanted to stick to the pattern as written. Kind of defeats the purpose of New Directions in Sock Knitting if you wind up not going in the new direction.

Also, if I knit as many pattern repeats for the foot as is written, the finished sock would be about five inches longer than my actual foot. My row gauge is much larger than the pattern called for. I tend to not pay attention to the row gauge, because the length of a sock can easily be adjusted. Stitch gauge can be adjusted as well, but it usually involves adjusting the stitch pattern. Something to be said for the fleegle heel, and most heel-flap methods is that by the time you’ve decreased the gusset stitches and gotten back to the original stitch count, you’re about half-way done with the foot of the sock.

Happy holidays, if you’re into that sort of thing. Wishing you yarn, books, wine, and warmth.

Keep it subtle, stupid

Had some exciting news last weekend, one of my bags has sold at the gallery! It was the red one in the middle, which was slightly surprising because I thought it was a lot less interesting than the others, but whatever does the trick. I mixed a tweed-ish red yarn with a slightly shiny purple for a tonal look. I’ll found out this weekend if I’ve made any other sales, but in the meantime I’m working on a new bag to replace the red one, since the sale is on until the end of this month.

Sticking with the purple from before for the weft, but with a orange-red-yellow variegated for the warp. I’m using the same ‘pickup stick behind the heddle to ‘save’ the pattern’ trick I learned in Inventive Weaving for some textural stripes, and the warp yarn will show little flashes of bright color in the light. I have until this Saturday to get it ready to sell.

Speaking of holiday gifts, I’m taking a stab at propagating my pothos plant. I had this dream of having a pothos on top of the 6 foot bookshelf in my living room that cascaded down the side, and now that that dream has com true I think it may be getting a bit heavy. I carefully trimmed it, and now I’m rooting the stems in water. Hopefully I’ll see some roots sprouting. Do you think (assuming I see some rooty action by New Years) it would make a good holiday gift? Part of me thinks it would be a burden on the intended recipient, giving them a gift that needs maintenance, but the intended recipient already has a healthy amount of houseplants and probably wouldn’t mind another. Not like it’s a puppy, right?

A mild case of startitis

Sometimes you just can’t help it. Between what will be my only holiday knitting this year a hat for my mother in leftover Valley Yarns Northampton, and my Aeolian shawl, my Stone Walls vest, Gold Digger socks, and my barely-past-the-ribbing on the right front Wallis cardigan from Sweater Girls, I’m swimming in half-done projects. The Aeolian is my second, the first one was years ago back in college when I still twisted all my stitches. Every single one. I learned how to knit mainly through books and I didn’t know any real-life knitters so I had no idea what my stitches were really supposed to look like. I didn’t figure it out until I knit a sweater out of a single-ply yarn that was designed with a cable straight down the front that insisted on twisting towards my hip. Now that I have my knitting act together, and have (for the most part) for several years, I figure it’s time for a new Aeolian that falls as it should. I’m using Queensland Collection Llama Lace in a pretty reddish-purple plum color that should suit it well. Aeolian as it’s written has beads at certain points for a bit of shine and weight, and I’m waffling between a solid gold or something a bit more subtle that will match the yarn.