So Relaxed...

 This sweater. This is the sweater I have always dreamed of: comfortable but stylish, fitted in the sleeves but loose everywhere else, simple but effective details, and easy to knit. Not only that, the design is wonderfully open to interpretation (more on that in a moment!). I can honestly say this is my most favorite knit top so far.

The pattern is Ririko's aptly named "Relax" (not Brooklyn Tweed, whaaaaaaaaat?!), and I knit it up with Berroco's Vintage DK (the colour is called "oats"). There are a couple of things are that are very cool about this yarn: you get incredibly good yardage per skein (262 meters to be precise), each skein costs less than $15.00 (I only needed 4 for this top), and the fiber content contains a little nylon for added resilience. Bonus points for me, cuz I've had this stuff lying around for a couple years now, so, stashbusting!

LOL, no WAY does my butt look that good in real life. Thank you flattering camera angle!

This sweater also represents one of the few knits I've completed sans modifications. That's right, not a one. Actually, I tell a lie: I added about an inch or so to the arm length, but that's it. My only deviation from the pattern was to seam the shoulders, then pick up the sleeve stitches at the armholes and knit the sleeves flat before seaming the sides from sleeve cuff to hem. I did this because in spite of recent knitting progress, I am still a chicken shit when it comes to dpns. Also, also, I just remembered that I used a size 2.75 needle to knitting the neckline with, because I didn't have a short enough 3.25 to hand, and I was impatient to finish.

So above, I mentioned that this top could be re-imagined in a variety of ways, and I think that's one of the reasons I'm so excited about it right now. Before I had finished the neck, I was trying it on to see how it fit, and suddenly I started to see different versions of it in my head: sleeveless, longer sleeves, different ribbings, cabled front panels, reverse stockinette with a ridge detail, etc etc. And that's not even mentioning all the different yarn and colour combinations you could get into. I'm thinking I'd like to try a sleeveless summer version with wide stripes of double-stranded Tsumugi Silk. I've also been having a lot of trouble with Shibui's "Francis" pattern, so I may do a sleeveless version of Relax that preserves some of the design details from the Francis top.

I think I mentioned in my last post that I would be doing more sewing due to the increasingly warm weather, but I'm still having to wrestle with my sewing projects. I'm annoyed at myself for this reluctance for two reasons: a) for the first time in my life I have a room dedicated just to sewing and I should be using it, dammit! and b) the two tops I have on the go are really *quite* simple, and shouldn't be taking this long to finish. The main thing that is keeping me from getting in there and just getting shit done is my serger: I recently brought it in for repair (to the scammy tune of $100), and it's still being fussy. And by fussy, I mean it's threaded perfectly and it's still skipping stitches, eating fabric, and the loopers seem to be ever so slightly out of time. Grrrr!

Nonetheless, I was inspired by another blogger (I forget who, now) who had pledged to sew at least 15 minutes a day. That may not seem like much, but so much can be accomplished in just 15 minutes (and most days I can't even force myself to do that much). So I am hereby pledging myself to do the same: I will complete at least 15 minutes of sewing a day (or sewing-related activity, such as cutting fabric). Wish me luck, and hopefully the results will be up here soon!

Breton, At Last

I say at last because...holy crap, for such a simple "basic" piece, it was damn fussy in places. But I do love it, so maybe I should make an effort to be more positive. Here goes...

This is...wait for it...a Brooklyn Tweed pattern from the BT Fall 2012 pattern collection. I went a little pattern crazy when I first saw the catalog, and promptly bought and printed at least five of them. This is the first one I tackled, and for reasons which will soon be made clear, the only one I have yet finished. I chose it primarily because I liked the shape, and because I figured it would fit seamlessly into my pre-existing wardrobe. After checking out the pattern, I was also feeling all "knitting mature" for choosing something with some interesting new techniques, and brazenly cast on with a feeling that can only be described as "cavalierly smug".

The wind was first knocked from my sails when I realized just how long this would take. I didn't bother with a swatch test (I know, I know), but had the good sense to realize by magical intuition that my yarn was yielding a smaller gauge than that required, and therefore cast on for a size larger than I would have if I had used the actual recommended yarn. As many a Canadian devotee of Brooklyn Tweed knows, the Loft and Shelter yarns are not yet available in Canadian yarn stores, so my substitute yarn was Isager's Tvinni Tweed, which was ok, but...I have to say, it was frustratingly fragile at times, and a bit like knitting with cobwebs. I was worried the whole time I was knitting the piece that I would end up putting in all this work for a sweater that was too delicate/transparent to wear (when I blocked the pieces, I even discovered a hole in one place as a result of a slightly split and weakened strand...the horror!). Thankfully, I repaired the hole and the yarn has held up thus far.

The pattern was another challenge: strange cabled decreases, a neckline worked simultaneously on both sides, tearing my hair out trying to line up the stripes during seaming...I also feel that in a perfect world, the neck opening would be slightly bigger all around, as it appears to be in the actual Brooklyn Tweed photos (not that it's noticeable by anyone but me).

But I was supposed to focus on the positive, right? So here's a bunch of stuff I like about this sweater:

- beautiful shape, with long, lean arms.
- the yarn is actually quite toasty, in spite of it's thinness, making it a warm piece without the bulk of a heavier a yarn.
- I love the combination of the black stripe with the wheat-y tweed of the main colour.
- nice simple edges (rolled neck, plain cast on hem and cuffs).

Things I might change if I'm ever crazy enough to want a "next time":

- slightly longer body (I don't have to lift my arms very high to flash some tum).
- increase the a-line shape to be a little wider at the hips.
- use a slightly more resilient yarn (every time I wear this, I live in fear of of even the tiniest drop of sweat felting up the whole underarm of the sleeve).

All told, I really like this sweater and wear it a lot. I'm also *very* aware of the need to take good care of it. And even though it lacks the wow factor of my Exeter cardigan, I feel this was another milestone in my knitting career, what with the tiny gauge and fussy-pants pattern, so I feel pretty damn proud when I wear it.

And that is IT for backlogged projects. I now have to actually finish some things that are still in progress, and what with the increasingly warm weather, may turn more to sewing in the near future...by which I mean, I will only have two knitting projects on the go, rather than five.

Nude Beaubourg

As previously mentioned, I managed to recently finish up two sweaters that I had been working on for awhile. This first one is Julie Hoover's Beaubourg sweater, knit up with some lovely Cascade Eco Cloud (the colour number is 1803, but the internet likes to call it "fawn"). It is quite possibly the softest, comfiest thing I have ever worn.

For anyone familiar with the pattern, it will be obvious that there are some devious mods in evidence. The most glaring ones are probably the hem and the length, although I also added about five inches to the collar. In the original pattern, both the front and back hems curve down, with the back being slightly longer than the front. I opted for a K1, P2 rib band instead, knit straight across, and thus cast on the actual number of stitches required for the body (I knit size 41/43, so cast on 101 stitches for both front and back). I did make a half-assed attempt at keeping the back longer than the front, but the effect was lost after seaming.

I also picked up stitches around the neckline for the collar, instead of knitting it as a separate piece and sewing it on. My decision to lengthen it came after I had already knit it according to the pattern once and cast off: I noticed that the neck has a tendency to widen when you have the sweater on, which pulls the collar down and effectively shortens it. So, ever the masochistic knitter, I unpicked the cast off edge and knit another five inches of the same ribbing I used for the hem. It was a pain, but I'm glad I did it, because no mock turtleneck should go where a cowl is meant to be.

Here are some things that are great about this sweater:

- it was damn easy to make (only a front and back piece, collar...and that's it!).

- it is warm and snuggly, without being frumpy.

- the dolman sleeves are sooooooo comfortable.

- the exposed seams and reverse stockinette add some rough detail to an otherwise neat and structured garment.

I forgot to mention that I had actually knit the sweater body size to the pattern specifications as well, only to find that it was too long (this is why I wound up making it shorter). It went past my butt in the back and hung to the tops of my thighs in the front, making it look more like a tunic. I'm not sure if this is because of the yarn I used (maybe it's heavier than the recommended yarn?), but I'm glad I took the time to fix it, otherwise it would have languished in knitter's limbo (aka my bottom dresser drawer).

Because the yarn is soft, I need to be careful how I carry my bag when wearing it if I don't want one side to pill. I also have to watch what jeans I wear it with because of the light colour (my new black jeans are still leaving blue marks all over everything). That said, this is a pretty versatile and unfussy sweater, and I'll probably make another one some time.

In other news, I spent yesterday hiking around East Sooke park with my sister. In parting, here's one of the spectacular views we saw:

Ubiquitous Olive Jacket

Because they're everywhere, right? This is a wee bit of a cheater's post, because this project was completed  about two years ago, and has been worn endlessly since. The thing is, I've got two new finished sweaters that I haven't had a chance to photograph yet, as well as two sewing projects that are rapidly nearing completion. Rather than wait to post all the new stuff (and further neglect this blog), I decided to simply post about this old but awesome jacket that I am still very proud of.

The source pattern was the Built By Wendy/Simplicity pattern 3694, which in its original incarnation, looks like this:

I'm not sure what I was thinking when I first picked up the pattern, because none of these three looks particularly appeals to me (dress = no, too-short-jacket + too-flared-sleeves = no, terry clothe spa robe = extreme no). Perhaps I was already anticipating some monster modifications? Who knows. At any rate, because it's been a few years, I may not remember all the mods I made to this pattern, but the ones I do recall are as follows:

- jacket length somewhere between the dress and cropped jacket versions
- pockets placed slightly lower to sync with new length.
- front hem curves upward, while back hem curves down.
- sleeves were cut straighter with more length to accommodate rolling them up.
- zipper runs full length of front facing pieces (you probably can't tell from the photo of the pattern, but the original jacket has a zipper that ends several inches below the neckline (??).
- added a lining, because unlined jackets are just...yuck.
- made the hood bigger, since hoods never fit tall enough for me, and I end up looking like I'm shrugging my shoulders all the time.
- added some jumbo grommets for the hell of it.

The fabric I used is an olive nylon-ish outerwear kind of stuff, with a slightly velvety reverse side. I don't think it's actually waterproof, and it's not warm at all, but it performs relatively well in rainy and windy weather.

 The only other thing I might mention is the awesome front pocket construction: because the pocket sides are sandwiched between the front facings and the back piece respectively, you only have to sew the pockets to the front at the bottom edge. That's right, folks: none of that dreaded all-round top-stitching, which I hate and suck at! The only thing I wish I had done differently is the sleeve part of the lining: because I knew I would be wearing the sleeves rolled up, I flipped the lining so that the "wrong" side became the "right" side (if that makes any sense). As a result, the arm linings are the same velvety finish as the rest of the outer side of the jacket, which means my arms don't glide into the sleeves *quite* as smoothly as they could. I know now that I should have just made a cuff piece and kept the slicker side of the lining consistent throughout, but it's not really a huge problem.

The actual pattern is out-of-print now, but you can still pick it up on Etsy from time to time, and I would highly recommend it (just don't get fazed by pattern pictures). I love this jacket, the pattern was super easy to modify, and I'll be making another one very soon!

The Tova Top That Was Nearly A Dress...

Having resolved my camera issues from yesterday (something to do with the light metering and timed shutter, blah blah blah), I was able to take some better shots of my new plaid Tova, just finished last Tuesday. It's so damn comfortable and soft and awesome that I've barely taken it off since then, but let's talk a little about the process behind this creation, shall we?

Originally, this was intended to be a dress, or at least some kind of tunic length thing. Now, why I persist in wanting to make dresses is beyond me: I generally don't wear them unless forced to, I find them uncomfortable and annoying, I sure as hell never buy them, and I just generally feel wrong wearing one. But somehow I have it in the back of my brain that's it's just a matter of being open-minded and finding the Right Dress Pattern. And since I loved the first Tova top I made, I figured I'd give the dress version a run, thinking it would be as perfect and wonderful to wear as the top.

So. Wrong. Whether it was the fabric (clingy cotton flannel) or the pattern (I cut it bigger than usual to fit in the hip area), it was just...bad. Which isn't the fault of the pattern or designer by any stretch: it's basically fate telling me to quit wasting good fabric on garments that are not suited to my frame and disposition.

Once I let go of the dress idea, the top came together beautifully. The fabric is the same kind of double-faced cotton flannel that I used for my plaid button down shirt, only the reverse of this one is just a drab brown pattern. I put buttons and buttonholes on the placket again, because I think I would find an unfastened placket too gape-y on this top.

Because my first Tova top felt a bit tight in the shoulder area, I made some slightly odd alterations:

- the shoulder, outer inset, sleeve, sleeve cuff, front and back pieces were cut along the size L lines.
- the placket, center inset, and inset neckline were cut along the size M lines.

The lines corresponding to the inset on the front piece were also cut according to a size M. The reason I did this was because I wanted more room in the shoulders, but didn't necessarily want the neck of the top to be any wider than the one on my first top. I also modified both front and back pieces to be size L under the armpit and blend into a size XL by the hem when I still thought it was going to be a dress. In the end, I took the sides in by about half an inch each, so the finished body is probably closer to a size L. I also had to lengthen the collar by about an inch on each end, cuz it was coming up short.

Whew! I'm so glad this top is done and wearable. It took me way longer to finish than it should have, but let's not dwell on that. I now have a clean slate in terms of sewing projects (no UFOs lurking about in closets, under beds, at the bottom of the laundry pile, etc), and can proceed with new projects.

In parting, because I love it so much, here's a shot of my (still relatively) new sewing room:

It's actually bigger than in the photo, but I artfully cropped out the overflowing bins of yarn, fabric, patterns, etc, to give at least some semblance of order. If you look at the mirror, you can just see the ironing board, which I will never again have to put away in order to reach the kitchen :)

Rusty Setzer

This feels like cheating a little bit, because I finished this project last summer. Unfortunately, this picture set was the only one that turned out after a frustrating day of trying to capture a bunch of more recent projects (I'm blaming my camera, since there's no way I could possibly take a bad picture after spending 5 years in art school, right? Right.).

Anyways, this is the Brooklyn Tweed Setzer Cowl, knit with Cascade Heathers 220 in a colour called "Japanese maple". The pattern was easy to follow, and good for practicing your short rows. The jog trick recommended to hide the change from knit to purl stitches when knitting in the round didn't really work for me: either I was doing it wrong (impossible!), or the instructions are not super clear. Either way, I found that it didn't really diminish the appearance of the stitch change, so next time around I won't bother.

Another thing about this cowl is that the cool, wavy effect you get from knitting the short rows essentially disappears once you have the thing on. It might still affect the drape of the cowl, but the eye just sees a bunch of horizontal ribbing (it does make for a more interesting knit though).

I wore this a ton last fall, and I'm thinking I'll probably make another one this summer. Maybe in a charcoal, or camel shade, but you definitely can't go wrong with Cascade 220.

It's kind of weird that my last two posts have been accessory garments, because I tend to avoid those kinds of things. I feel that if I'm going to invest the time, money and energy to knit something, it's got to do more than just sit on my neck/head/shoulders and accent an outfit. I'd rather spend the time knitting a sweater or top that will actually, you know, cover the parts of me that need to be covered. That said, this cowl and the Oslo scarf have been well-worn and loved this season, so maybe once my other "serious" projects are done (are they ever?), I'll check out some more scarves, gloves, etc.

And there are some sewing projects coming shortly, as soon as I can figure out my damn stupid camera. In the meantime, I'm going to console myself with chocolate, Prime Suspect (Helen Mirren, ftw!), and finishing up my Beaubourg sweater.

Winterberry Oslo

Oslo scarf, from Brooklyn Tweed's Spring Thaw collection

This scarf was actually finished awhile ago, but I'm only getting around to posting about it now. If memory serves, I think I started this some time last summer(!). This project was a little bit like the Exeter cardigan for me: challenging (fair isle, ugh!), time consuming, and ultimately worth it. To be fair, I wasn't working on this constantly for the whole 5 months it took to finish. I managed to complete the first three bands of colour work pretty quickly, and then the tedium of knitting stockinette around and around and around forever caused me to set it aside for awhile. I had to remind myself to pick it up and do a few rounds every now and then, but it just wasn't as exciting as some other things I was working on, so there was some languishing. I hit another speed bump when I got to the end and had to do another 3 bands of colour work (I have a bad habit of putting things aside whenever I run into a challenging or unpleasant step), but eventually got over it and completed the damn beautiful thing.

Now for specs: I used Ashford McKenzie for the black part, and various shades of Drops Alpaca for the fair isle. If I'd had my wits about me, I suppose I wouldn't have chosen alpaca for even the small part of this scarf that I did, because not only does it shed on my clothes, it sheds on itself. Nonetheless, I'm happy with it, and I'm sure I'll get tons of use out of it. The weather warmed up considerably around the time that I finished it, so I'll probably get more wear out of it next year.

It's funny that I agonized so badly over the fair isle though, because no sooner did I block this than I cast on for Brooklyn Tweed's Stasis sweater, which has a colour work hem, cuff, and yoke (mercifully in only two colours). I'm also extremely tempted by this:

Kimmswick scarf, from Brooklyn Tweed's winter 2013 collection

I guess it all comes down to how masochistic I'm feeling. I'm safe for now, because I have too many things on needles to even vaguely contemplate starting another, but this summer...

Spring Blues

So my favourite local fabric store is having one of their super-rare, store-wide sales. And did the fact that I already have a massive stash of fabric have any bearing on whether or not I would take advantage? It did not.

To be fair, there are two pieces of stash fabric in this pile: a striped double-sided cotton and something called "linen look", which is basically cotton. But the rest were all acquired at the sale: two lengths of tencel in charcoal and cream, two different Italian linens (one denim blue, the other a lighter washed-out shade), and a cream of wheat coloured linen jersey.

Overall, I think I did pretty well. Because it was a sale, I decided to forgo more reasonably priced fabrics and go straight for the (usually) prohibitively expensive gems, like the linens. I managed to stay within $20 of my budget, and I had already assigned garments to each fabric before I even bought them. So all in all, this was a well-thought out and economically ok bit of fabric indulgence.

As for the blue...I'm not sure what it is, but when I'm in a fabric store, I naturally gravitate towards blue fabric. Even when it's not even remotely what I'm looking for, or suited to the project in mind. Maybe because so many nice, natural fabrics come in blue (linen, chambray, voile, denim)? Who knows. At any rate, my spring and summer projects will be dominated by these cool, faded shades.

Here are some of the projects the fabric is destined for:

a. Vogue 1247 Rachel Comey top
b. McCalls 6702 Blouse (sleeveless)
c. McCalls 6605 Top (short-sleeved)
d. McCalls 6605 Top (long-sleeved)
e. McCalls 6702 Blouse (long-sleeved)
f. Salme Pattern Loose Fitting Pleated T-Shirt

A few of these will require some modifications, but more on that when they're in progress/done. For now, I'm happy that the fabric is bought and pre-shrunk, and the patterns have all been matched to their respective fabric (hard part's over, right?).

Perfect Plaid

Here, in all it's glory, is my new favourite shirt. Not only is it my new favourite shirt, this is the first honest-to-goodness button-up shirt I've ever made. Ever. I'm still not sure if my decision to make it in plaid was unnecessarily masochistic, but who cares: it fits, it's comfortable, and damn does that plaid line up!

The pattern has a bit of a history: quite a few years ago (ahem), I purchased Wendy Mullin's first sewing book "Sew U" (the one that came with a pants, skirt and shirt pattern). I really only cared about the shirt though, and in my eagerness to begin, I cut out the small size. Never mind that I didn't have any fabric or even an actual project in mind: I thought that if I cut the pattern out in advance, I'd just be saving myself some work in the near future.

Unfortunately, the "near future" turned out to be several years down the road. A few months ago, I spotted this beautiful double-sided cotton at my favourite local fabric store, Gala Fabrics, and promptly nabbed 3 meters of it. Then I dug out my "Sew U" shirt pattern, only to discover that I am no longer a size small. Whoops. Thankfully, the medium and large size shirt pieces were printed on a different sheet, so I could cut out the medium size and go from there (great!). Except that I apparently threw out the size medium sleeve piece when I originally cut out the small size (shit!).

No matter: I wound up re-sizing the sleeve using the smaller size, and things more or less came together. The other (more intentional) mods I made include leaving out the front and back darts, and using only the collar stand for the collar (I may also have lengthened it by an inch or two).

The results are so worth the pattern anguish and time-consuming details (topstitching, button-holes, pocket flaps, etc). In a totally perfect world, there would be a bit more ease in the shoulders, as it does feel a little restrictive when I do really weird and exaggerated arm movements (which I guess I can just not do when wearing this shirt). But I really do love everything about this top: I love the softness of the fabric, the slim but comfortable cut of the pattern, the way the plaid reminds me of a particular sleeping bag I had when I was a kid. And while my next project is going to be slightly less *detail oriented*, I'm glad I put in the time and effort to turn this one out properly.

Exeter

The lovely Exeter from every possible angle.

Let me start by saying that this project represents a massive leap forward for me in terms of knitting. Normally, I'm a very hours-of-mindless-stockinette-in-front-of-a-horror-movie kind of knitter, and anything with cables and "complicated" features gets an automatic pass from me. But for some reason, instead of immediately bypassing this when I saw it last June in the Brooklyn Tweed "Spring Thaw" collection, I actually just made up my mind to make it.

And guess what? After the first 16 rows of the cable pattern, I was back to being able to knit and zone out simultaneously (yay!). The pattern is pretty easy to follow, and I even colour coded the cable chart to make it that much more stupidly easy. Because I knew I'd get more wear out this if it were tough enough to use as outerwear, I knit it with Briggs & Little Tuffy (doesn't pill or felt), and it has the added advantage of being Canadian (woot!).

If it looks a little "faded" in the photos, that's because I've already worn it to death (although it's getting put away soon, as winter doesn't seem to have any intention of happening here). In spite of the pattern and stitches being relatively easy, I have to admit this was a lot of work, and a pretty major investment of time and labour. The one thing that kept me going (besides the actual desperate need for warm clothing), was the fact that I knew that this was a garment I will probably wear and enjoy just as much when I'm 90 as I will now.

Dig that shawl collar, mmm hmmm!

In other news, my blog hiatus was largely unintentional, and entirely the result of three things:

- Moving unexpectedly in the middle of December (Christmas Eve, to be precise)
- Not having a new internet connection until well into January
- Work being generally insane (I teach kindergarten)

In spite of being unexpected, the move was fantastic. I now live half a block from the ocean, in a neighbourhood that smells of woodsmoke and the sea, and, best of all, I have a designated sewing room! I had previously spent 5 years in a bachelor apartment that can't have been bigger that 200 ft square, and I couldn't set anything up to sew without having to re-arrange the entire room. Now I have a 2 bedroom in which to sew and knit as I please, and I still can't get over how amazing it is just to have this space. At one point during the holidays I was blocking 3 different knitting projects at once, and at no point did I have to step over them to get into the fridge!

Because of the blog pause, I have a backlog of things to post here, so there will be much more activity in the next few weeks.

Black Linen Tova

Probably should have ironed this first...

Again, another project from the vault (in this case, last summer): my reasonably successful version of Wiksten’s popular Tova top.

I approached this project with a kind of “functional muslin” in mind: I was mostly curious about the fit, so chose black linen from my stash to try it out with. I figured, if it works, great (black linen would go with most other things in my wardrobe), and if not, no biggie (the fabric was cheap to begin with).

For the most part, the sewing was easy going. The only part I really got tripped up with was sewing the inset, particularly the serging of the inset sides and gathered front. The seam really didn’t want to straighten out when being serged, so there’s some ugliness inside. Also, the linen frayed if you so much as looked at it, so one corner of the inset actually has a small hole, which I “repaired” by ironing some black interfacing over the spot on the wrong side of the garment.

This was also my first attempt at doing a proper shirt collar, as opposed to a simple neckline facing. There was a little unevenness I wasn’t too happy with, but overall it was not bad for a first try. It was also my first time using the automatic button-hole function on my new sewing maching (my old Janome didn’t have one). I found out that it’s a little temperamental, and therefore the collar and top buttonholes are actually non-functional (the three that actually count worked, thank God).

I’m pretty pleased with the shirt, and have worn it quite a bit. The only mods I plan on making to future versions will include going up a size in the body (the shoulders felt a bit narrow), and down a size in the collar and inset (the collar feels a bit wide to me). I’ve already drafted a Frankenstein version of the pattern to make a plaid tunic out of, but more on that later...

Does This Ever Happen to You?

You know how it is...you find yourself virtually loafing on websites that feature clothing you could never dream of affording, find the perfect knitted something, and pluckily decide to just make it yourself. You spend hours scouring the internet, yarn stores, and your own pattern stash to find one that's just close enough that you could make a reasonable facsimile of your dream sweater without the pain and agony of making too many modifications.

This happens to me a lot, the most recent example being the United Bamboo sweater pictured above. It is so totally out of my price range, but the construction and stitch appear simple enough: raglan sleeves, boxy body, rib knit, over-sized cowl neck. Hell, I could make up this pattern if I had to, but I was sure that finding an existing one would be one brief Ravelry search away.

So, so wrong. There are plenty of raglan sweaters, but not with the right rib stitch. Likewise, there are plenty of rib knit sweaters, but they all have set-in sleeves, or waist shaping, or the rib stitch is some unnecessarily complicated one. When I exhausted all the virtual resources I could think of, I turned to my own magazine stash, and finally found the one.

This pattern is from the 1967 fall/winter edition of Vogue knitting, which is all about knitted dresses, tweedy coats, and incorporating giant plastic paillettes into everything. Thankfully, there are no paillettes on this rib knit dress, and I think I can use it to make a passable version of the United Bamboo sweater. I will no doubt make a few mods: shorter in length, change the tapering of the sleeves, leave off the front pockets, and make the cowl bigger and longer. But I think it's going to work. I even have some stash yarn I can use (more Drops Alpaca double stranded with mohair, smoky gray this time).

Progress shots to come....

Mohair Goodness

This is a sweater I started ages ago, and only just finished yesterday. It’s based on a dress from an old Phildar magazine (winter 2008-2009, I think). While Phildar is pretty hit or miss (they can go several issues with the most hideous crap you’ve ever seen, then do an issue where you want to make every single garment in it), I find they’re not bad for basic, easily alterable shapes. 

This is what the original pattern looked like:

And here’s my version:

Obviously I made the sleeves shorter, changed the neckline, and added some ribbing to the hem. I’ve also got the purl side facing out, with the side and shoulder seams exposed just for interest’s sake. I used a camel coloured shade of Drops Alpaca, double stranded with a mohair silk from Sandnes Garn, and it feels amazing! I like how having the purl side out and the seams exposed gives it a bit of a rougher look...it contrasts nicely with how incredibly soft it feels on the skin. 

This definitely shouldn’t have taken me so long to finish, but I have a feeling I set it aside with the onset of summer. I still don’t have my act together in terms of the whole seasonal knitting thing (you know, starting the things you want to wear next season the season before), but I’m trying to get better. Anyways, the push was on to finish this one because I knew it would be perfect to pair with black leggings and boots for all those holiday-ish events coming up. Elegant without being fussy, comfortable and warm without being too casual, etc: it’s pretty much the perfect winter tunic.