Twist Collective Blog
Julia here. Since I'm in a sharing mood, I thought I'd tell you about some of the little things I've seen around the knitting world lately that have made me smile. If you follow our Twitter feed, you may recognize a few of them, with my apologies.
1) A few weeks ago when I went to the Hub Mills Store to fondle the new Classic Elite Yarns, like the Verde Collection Chesapeake with which we had Tonia Barry knit her gorgeous Goose Rocks (I love the green colorway, especially). I also fell in love with these little zippered "yarn cases" from a new-to-me source, Walker Bags (scroll down the page for the yarn case). The mesh is a little bit rigid and smooth and stands up like a charm, and all the inside seams are finished with tape. I bought a pink one for sock knitting, but I currently have it assigned to a baby sweater I'm making for my nephew.
2) The kick-ass-cool and competent Astrid from the Dreamworks animated movie How to Train Your Dragon wears a jersey I am almost certain is made from nalbinding. I want to congratulate whoever it was in the Dreamworks studio who figured that one out. I wonder if they are a knitter (or a nalbinder). (Image of Astrid and voice talent America Ferrera borrowed from IMDB).
3) Something else I saw recently in my local yarn store rounds were these beautiful (shawl) pins made by Bonnie Bishoff. These are engineered really well so that they actually stay "hooked", and the clever little ring that ensures such security doubles as a place to hang your reading glasses. You know, if you need such a thing. Contact Yarns in the Farms if you're enchanted by them the way I was.
4) Next week we have a few more Designers sharing their design processes with us, and a few reader-submitted Style Notebook ideas for some of the sweaters from the most recent issue. Have a great weekend.
Design Process: Sweetgrass
Sarah Fama offers us this look at her first Twist Collective design, Sweetgrass. This entry is cross posted from her blog.
I have a new sock pattern out -- Sweetgrass, featured in the current issue of Twist Collective. (I may or may not have hyperventilated and done a totally dorky happy dance when I first found out the pattern was accepted. Twist rocks.)
The design started out with a stitch in a Japanese stitch dictionary. It was one of those "oh, that's cute, but what if I tinkered with it a bit, like this?" moments. I'm a sucker for stitch patterns with movement in them, and I loved how the ribbing seems to sway back and forth. This kind of stitch seems to play nice with both solid and variegated yarns. Here's a photo of the sample I used for the Twist submission -- it's in Malabrigo Sock in "Impressionist Sky." Since Twist does e-mail submissions, I was able to keep the sample and finish knitting the pair for myself. I've worn them a lot.
I loved knitting the first pair so much, I cast on for a second pair using Wollmeise sock yarn, in the Indisch Rot colorway. It's a really hard color to photograph!
So I've knit two and a half pairs, counting the Twist sample, and I'm still not tired of the pattern. I think that's a good sign.
More New Books for Spring
In the recent trend of knitting books that promise to be the last word on whatever you please in the ways of working with yarn, a few actually make good on their promise to the knitter's pursuit of excellence.
Embedded in the title of Power Cables: the Ultimate Guide to Knitting Inventive Cables are all the clues you need to know that here is a book that will both coddle the new cable knitter and intrigue even the experienced Aran accumulator. Here are cables expected and surprising, simple and "phony", rendered in brioche or intarsia, with suitable applications for every new idea guaranteed to open your switch stitching horizons. The Staghorn Cabled Coat is an inspiring application of a reversible (and beautiful) cable, and the Honeycomb V-Neck Pullover from the cover is a fresh take on the Aran sensibility. The stoles and scarves are remarkable for their wearability and the quality of enjoyment they promise to the knitter. Not everything included is indispensable, but who knows when you might require a resource for intarsia cables?
In the age of the internet, knitters seeking wider adventures in technique face the vexing barrier of language. Some of the best teachers hail from other linguistic climes, and few knitters have the heart or patience for the inadequacies of knitting glossaries. I would be the first person to sign up for a class in Finnish or German for knitters, but who will host such a seminar? (I appeal to you.)
Adrienne Martini's terrific new memoir, Sweater Quest, My Year of Knitting Dangerously is exactly the sort of book I have become suspicious of lately, and I cracked it open not expecting to give it more than the obligatory glance. I am a wee bit fatigued by knitting-circle-as-support-group titles that seek to cash in on knitter's supposed susceptibility to buy anything that casts a pop-cultural eye in our direction. If I actually enjoyed such offerings, I would probably be more charitable in general, but while I have been known to buy a movie ticket just to see if the sweaters in Dan in Real Life were any good (meh, and not even handknit), two hours of my life I begrudge no one if I can knock out 40 rows on a sock in the dark. But a book is a possible threat to knitting time itself (don't preach to me your tales of Audible, I've tried it with varied satisfaction), so a book must be good.
Design Process: Carmel Clutch
This blog post is cross posted from Leah Thibault's blog and is about her charming Carmel Clutch.
As I hinted at a few posts back, I have pattern in 2010 Spring/Summer issue of Twist Collective.
It’s my first professionally published pattern and I’m thrilled to be in such a great magazine in the company of designers I really admire. I’m super excited about the whole thing, so I thought I’d talk a bit today about the Carmel Clutch came to be.
It started with a hat.
Which I bought on out-of-season clearance at LL Bean a year or so ago. After I bought the hat I spent some time looking at it and realized that it was crocheted. This got me thinking, surely if you can crochet with raffia, you can knit with raffia. So I went out to a craft store on my lunch break and bought a cheap bag of raffia to give it a try.
I wanted it to have a woven looks, so I flipped through a stitch dictionary or two and came up with a swatch of herringbone stitch.
My original swatch had a half dozen knots on the back, since the raffia from the craft store came in pieces of about 3 feet long, but it was enough to know that the concept worked. So I worked up a sketch, named the pattern after the beach community in California that I visited a handful of times in my teenage years, sent it off to Twist, and crossed my fingers.
I got the okay from the Twist folks and we decided to work up two samples, one in raffia and one in a more standard yarn, which I was more than happy to do. While I waited for the Elann Coto Canapone to come in I ordered a few spools of raffia from Raffit Ribbons and got to work.
Here’s where you may ask, what’s it like knitting with raffia? And the answer is not too bad. It’s about equivalent to working with any other plant fiber yarn I’ve worked with (cotton, hemp, linen).
It’s stiff off the spool and there’s not a lot of give when dry and I’ll admit that the purl stitches in the garter stitch sections of the bag were kinda pokey, but believe me – I’ve never had so much fun blocking a piece of knitting. the texture changes dramatically after it’s wet and softens into something lovely!
I had finished version 1.0 of the bag, but wasn’t happy with the front flap, which was done with decreases. It was too pointy and bumpy – so I set it aside for a day to decide how to fix it. I picked up some personal knitting, and while working on a version of Laura Chau’s Just Enough Ruffles Scarf, the solution presented itself to me – short rows! So I pulled out the front flap and reworked it in short rows with the addition of the garter stitch border seen in the final photos.
Around this time the Elann yarn arrived and it was Christmas and I went to California for a week and did no knitting at all so by the time I was knitting the Coto Canapone version I completely forgot to take pictures. Oops! But suffice it to say, I reworked some numbers for gauge. We also made the second sample shorter to combat potential flopiness (which if you find is an issue with your yarn I’d suggest lining it with fabric backed with interfacing or putting a book in the bag – both work)
A big thanks to Twist for including me in this issue and to Caro Benna Sheridan for the lovely photos! If you have any more questions on the Carmel Clutch – let me know!
Design Process: Passiflora
Nature often inspires my designs and Passiflora, the passionflower, is no exception. It is a tenacious climbing vine that reminds me of nothing so much as exuberant lace. Our neighbors have one growing over the fence between our two gardens, and every summer I find gorgeous passiflora blooms and vines wrapped around everything from my tomato stakes to a nearby hedge, and even throwing up shoots in my garden beds several feet away!
The modest lace motif on the tunic front gives way to a surprise in back, where the motif expands outward to create an undulating, airy and open repeat. I like to add this kind of unexpected design element to my garments, often because - as is the case with this project - it gives the wearer more options in how to style it.
The graduated-length side lace motif is subtle but adds an important feature; in the heat of our northern California summers, any and all "air-conditioning" in clothing is welcome! I also chose this element because it makes one look twice at the wearer, whether at the hint of skin underneath or at a contrasting color camisole seen peeking through the lace. It was these motifs winding up the tunic sides that made me certain I'd name the project after a climbing plant.
I wanted it to have a comfortable but flattering shape that draped loosely around the waist and hips but fit more snugly around the bust in order to open up the lace motif. When I saw the beautiful dusty purple shade of Elann's Incense yarn, I knew I'd found the tunic's name because the Passifloras growing over the fence into my garden are exactly this color.