Vintage Thursday - The Owl Cable

For the past couple years I have noticed a surge in the popularity of knitted owls, especially cable owls. Recently I was asked to make this owl cable hat, but the cable owl is so versatile and easy that it's found in sweaters, mittens, gloves... just about anything. But, this being Vintage Thursday, I feel compelled to point out that (like many clever motifs) the owl cable is not a new innovation.

Enter Workbasket and Home Arts Magazine (Number 3, Volume 37, December 1971):

This volume has been well-loved

I received a slew of old Workbasket magazines from my grandmother a couple years back, mostly for the early part of the 1970's. They are a real study in changing domestic fashion, addressing everything to husbands making comments about your thighs being like saddlebags, to growing violets and making granny square ponchos. (I'm definitely going to write more about them in the future, especially the granny square fad.) One of the interesting things about this issue is the Owl Snowsuit, which my grandmother has noted in her scrupulously neat handwriting on the tattered cover.

 Do you see those googly eyes? Yes, those are owl googly eyes!

Unfortunately, this pattern only comes in size 1, 2 and 3. But there's the sweater AND mittens with owls! I'm really tempted to make the mittens, but with a modification: instead of sport weight yarn on US #3 dpns, I'd use worsted weight yarn, just like the plan mitten pattern from 1944 I use calls for to keep the chill out.

Buy Handmade! (VERY Handmade!)

Recently I have begun collaborating with a friend of mine who dyes and spins yarn. You may remember her - she was the same person who comissioned me to knit I don't know how many earflap hats from her handspun yarn one Christmas. We've taken it one step further and are selling things now at craft fairs and on etsy.

I know quite a few people make a living or augment their income with selling hand knit or crocheted goods. I am trying to be one of them! But what Wendy(for that is my cohort's name) and I are doing takes that a step beyond. Wendy does not buy her yarn, then dye it. She spins it herself on an actual spinning wheel, in an actual crowded and chaotic craft room, not very unlike my own craft room. She has a hand cranked wheel for carding wool that may some day give her tennis elbow. She stinks up her place soaking and washing and drying fleeces. When we say we are making these things by hand, we mean from the sheep to the shelf.

Wendy usually gets fleeces from Romeldale sheep, an American breed which is critically endangered. I even have the names of the sheep she gets the fleeces from SOMEWHERE in my craft area. They produce a very soft and springy wool that dyes up beautifully, as you can see in the image below.

I sometimes want to keep this hat for myself.

Some of the fleece Wendy uses is what we call Mystery Wool. A friend or an acquaintance says, "Oh? You spin? I have a fleece for you!" and then the next thing she knows, she has a fleece with an unknown provenance, with characteristics yet to be discovered. And other times she just happens on a good deal.

On my end, it's a bit of a challenge. I never know what yarn I will be working with next. The gauge changes, the texture changes, the style changes, according to Wendy's whim. This means everything is unique, and that I am really never knitting or crocheting the same thing twice. It keeps me on my toes, and I am constantly developing patterns which incorporate versatility to keep up with the yarn.

But what does this all mean for you, Gentle Reader? It means you can get handspun, hand knit/crocheted stuff from us! Stuff that will last! Stuff that is so removed from big box store yarn that it doesn't even know what a box is! Imagine!

Do check out our etsy shop.

Hodgepodge Hat

I had this idea in my head for a while to make a tam style hat out of mitered squares. Sort of like the ubiquitous mitered square blanket, but in a hat. And in the round. It seemed like a viable solution to small scraps of yarn, or a pathological need to do intensive knitting. The opportunity finally came along when I scratched a baby sweater project in Noro fingering weight yarn.

 

This was the result:

My blurriness is in direct proportion to my fussiness fuzziness.

I call it my Hodgepodge Hat, not because it resembles mutton soup, but because "Patchwork" would have been too trite. 

 

I began by knitting the brim, and once it was long enough,, I then worked the mitered squares along live stitches until I'd come full circle. At the last square of each round I had to pick up the edge stitches of the first square to join it. This became a very fussy thing to do once I was decreasing for the crown. I was really wondering what I was thinking in doing it this way. Originally, I was going to write the pattern up, but after I was done I swept that right out of my mind. Plus, I think the ribbing is too loose!

An excellent view of my Sherpa-wear

But all-in-all, I think it's a nice hat. Maybe I'll knit it again someday in a sensible manner that is easy to convey to others in writing, as opposed to a video of knitting contortions.

Getting Medieval

What do you do over the weekend when you don't feel like knitting?

Do you say... make medieval headgear?

No?

Well... ok. But I do.

The Toque
Some time back - a year or so ago - I started a medieval garb project that was centered around the 1200-1300's. I had a wimple, but no period appropriate gown to go with it, and in my quest for something that looked comfortable and simple, I settled upon the cyclas. A cyclas is basically a loose gown with no sleeves, worn over an under gown, which is probably worn over another gown, over a chemise. (No central heating!) The appeal - aside from the ease of construction - was the ease. I could smuggle monkeys, or a band of jugglers, under a cyclas, because it doesn't have a fitted waist. This is a plus, because nothing is truly sadder than being five pounds too heavy to wear a gown you hand stitched, and only finding out right before you intend to wear it, except, of course, then having to wear the wrong headdress or hat altogether.

The most popular hat for this period in Western Europe seems to be (aside from the coif) the dubiously-dubbed "coffee filter hat", or fillet. It's essentially a pleated or ruffled linen crown-shaped headpiece. There are no extant examples, and while I wouldn't exactly say it looks silly walking around looking like you have a paper coffee filter on your head (I've considered much sillier) the general effect I've seen with these hats (once made) doesn't appeal to me greatly. So, I opted for a less common style, the toque, or what we these days call a "pillbox."

Scantily clad in my kitchen in a half-made toque. You know, a typical Saturday.

It all begins with some millinery wire and stiff canvas. There re no extant toques that I know of, so for all I know, they did use wire. Or at least I like to think they did, because certainly plenty of wire got put in headdresses through the medieval period in Europe. (How else do you think that "flying nun" look keeps staying up? Starch will only get you so far!)

I zig-zagged the strips of canvas I had by machine to make the crown of my toque, but everything else, including attaching the wire to the canvas, was done by hand. I used a medium weight bleached 100% linen to cover the toque, which I had to use 100% cotton thread on, because the linen thread I do have just seemed too bulky to get the polished effect I'm looking for.

I used recycled lightweight linen for the lining.

Center back seam of the finished toque

Unfortunately, I took some very blurry photos posing in the toque, but I think the photos will at least give you a general idea of how it turned out.

With barbette

With veil

Wash, Block, Repeat.

I like striped hats. I especially like striped beret type hats. Witness below, the dk weight hat I knit for V. a couple years ago:





KnitPicks came out with some neon colored yarn not long ago and I got the wild idea to combine the two. I started with yellow and gray:

This is fingering weight yarn. No surprise there, coming from me. Here's how the top of this version looks:

I like it, but the sizing wasn't quite right, especially after I blocked it on a plate. Yeah, yeah, I know - I should have run a piece of yarn around the base of the hat ribbing and pulled it on so that the ribbing wouldn't necessarily be blocked as well, but that strikes me really as just a short term solution. I know from experience that hats stretch out with wear. So the ribbing has to be a little tight, even if it's blocked with the hat, IMHO. So... I knit it again, but in navy and tan, which is what I had on hand in the same yarn.

I finally got the fit perfect, even after blocking. However...

I was knitting this as a publishable pattern, and waiting all this time for my yarn support. I was feeling as clever that I had it all worked out to perfection before the yarn came for the sample... and then the yarn came. In worsted.

Which, alas, is really nobody's fault. At no time did I specific yarn weight. I had completely forgotten that the neon yarn came in more than one weight. Urgh!

Now I'm starting the process all over again. I recalculated for worsted and knit it up. Same problem: the band is too loose. I have to do some swatches of ribbing, wash and measure them, and then recalibrate, and re-knit.

This kind of stuff is one of many reasons I never seem to get the dishes done.

Vintage Thursday: "White Popcorn-Stitch Headband"

I saw this headband years ago when I first moved to Boston on somebody's blog. I even acquired the pattern with the intention of making it, and in the odd way that the knitblog world works, I'm pretty sure I passed the blogger on the street in the North End while they were wearing the headband. We exchanged silent but meaningful knitter looks about the awesomeness of the headband, and then dissolved into the crowd. Really. The North End is crowded and the sidewalks are about two feet wide with poles sticking up all over them in inconvenient places, like exactly where you meant to stand. One can't ogle hand knits long on a North End sidewalk without beaming yourself on a pole.

From the etsy shop knitsomuch

I have upgraded my computer several times since then and even changed email accounts, so the pattern was lost to me in the chaos that is life. But yesterday I found it again, this time at an etsy shop called  knitsomuch that is selling pdf scans of pre-1960 vintage patterns. (Something I should think about since I collect vintage pattern books and magazines, and have had more than one person inquire about pattern sharing. I have been in the habit of just saying no because I haven't had the time or focus to look up the copyright issues.) It has a very mundane name, as many vintage patterns do: White Popcorn Stitch Headband (1960). The scanned pages included a couple other knits that appeared on the same pages, including the mysteriously titled Blue Chin Strap Cap, which I think I am going to knit just to see how it turns out.

The headband at rest

The pattern calls for US #9 needles, which may or may not be vintage sized... the gauge called for was 4.5 sts = 1 inch so I just made a judgement call. I have been hoarding saving a skein of Lamb's Pride Worsted in "Golden Mushroom" for a couple years with the intention of making a highly textured hat - bobbles or something - so it fit the bill for popcorns. (A note on popcorns: they were absolutely and utterly no fun until I realized I could use a crochet hook to make them, since they involve making 5 sts in ONE sts, and then slipping them all over the final stitch. Ugh!) Lamb's Pride Worsted allegedly works out at 4.5 sts = 1 inch on modern US #8 (5 mm) needles, so I just used those. If it came out a bit small it's not a problem because I am petite. In fact, that might be for the best.

Sometimes it's hard to pick a flattering facial expression

I braved the snow flurries today, then took these pictures, so please excuse me if I look a little dishabille and put out. Weather offends me sometimes. (Ok, most of the time.Why is it always too cold, too hot, or too muggy? I swear, the wind whistles through my room sometimes.)

I wore it tied behind my head, but next time I'm going to go for the chin strap position because my ears were a tad cold. But all in all, I'm really satisfied with it. I would consider making another one.

In other news, the results of the vintage UFO poll was very close. The winner (by one vote!) was the 1920's Argyle-ish stockings. Obediently, I have begun working on them.



I haven't even ripped them out much since restarting. Really.

Fair Isle-ish

I have been doing some Fair Isle type knitting lately. It seems the economical thing to do. The mileage for using fingering weight yarn is so much more than worsted or bulky. Think about it. How many more yards per ounce is that? A lot. Avid sock knitters will tell you - for about $10 or $15 dollars, you can get enough reasonable quality fingering weight yarn to knit a pair of socks that will take you as much work and as long as a $40 minimum sweater. That's more bang for your buck. If you're into that sort of thing. I am. Witness below.

I firmly believe kids should tie on their hats.

I whipped out my Fair Isle book and started playing around with patterns to make hats. The above hat fits a 2 to 3 year old. It wasn't the size I was aiming for, but I'm taking that in stride since it turned out rather nice anyways, and yes, I did just think I'd simply start another one. There was plenty of left over yarn and, evidently, patience. Or stubbornness. I always get those confused.

View of the top. It was a simply solution that I soon expanded upon since it struck me as not being fiddly enough for my tastes. The tams in my reference book have stars, and it just so happened that I had recently scored an authentic Shetland tam at the thrift store for about $1 (it needed some mending, which will happen once I can match the yarn somewhat) that I could copy the idea of.

 

This beanie came out the size I intended at a CO of 180 sts. As you can see, I have a lot of fingering weight yarn in various colors. The funniest thing about most of the yarn I used is that I got it at thrift stores. Ever see those little cylinders of wool baby yarn that Grandma used? Well, I snatch it all up every chance I get. I have an overabundance of pink, and that's my least favorite color - I have been too insecure in my masculinity for many years to wear pink - but that just makes it a challenge, like neon orange yarn. (A subject I will be addressing soon!)

 

I'm rather happy with this star crown. I frankly had no idea this hat was so colorful when I was knitting it; it was just working on the principle of picking a dominant group of colors and then throwing in one or two contrasts, and having half of the total colors be dark and half light. That way I could alternate almost randomly between background and foreground colors and always have a contrast, in theory. (I was limited by the colors on hand.) It sounds peculiar when I explain it but that was the methodology behind the madness.

  

Here we have the mock-up of the Shetland tam I got for a steal at the thrift store. I decided to not be too proud to learn from example and did my best to replicate. The colors are very different, since the original is sort of an aqua and salmon affair, and I also had my gauge wildly off once I got above the head band. The Shetland yarn is really more of a sport weight than light fingering like I was using. The result was that while I did learn a lot about how it was constructed, it came out as a beanie rather than a tam in shape because it had no extra roominess. It was still a spiffy beanie, though.

Detail of side pattern

I was very pleased with this star crown.The light color is some of my abundant vintage pink yarn, which contrasts nicely against hot burgundy. I actually bought the hot burgundy yarn and for the life of me, I'm not sure why. I must have had a wild hair of an idea, or it appeared differently on my computer monitor. (That's how my avocado Retro Rib cardi was born.)

There's even more of this sort of thing, which I don't consider true Fair Isle since I'm not using the "right" yarn, but they're in my workbasket. It's kind of addictive, I think. I'm considering making gloves.

Most of these hats ended up being sold in my etsy shop, which means of course that you should go check it out or drop me a note if you want me to whip one up for you.

Brrrrrrr!

Is it just me (I am Californian), or it it really, really cold outside? Like, I've stayed inside for two weeks cold. When I do go outside, it reminds me of the first time I visited Boston and it was minus something degrees and I had to put aloe vera on my face for days because I got wind burn the first night while we were walking down the street looking for a place to have dinner. So cold, I must have been really motivated to move there, because frankly I walk around the house like a sherpa during the winter. If sherpas wore garden clogs with hand knit socks and three sweaters.

Seriously, drastic measures are required. Such as mittens. The mitten mill is open for business.

Who doesn't like owls? I certainly do. I made two pairs of owl mittens: one brown, one pink. I sold the pink ones, but the brown ones are in my etsy shop, along with several of the others I'll talk about below.

After the owls, I made some simpler mittens.

It kind of hurts so good to look at these uneven stripe mittens. I love contrasting aqua and red, even when it's fire engine red and a glance gives me tracers. I'm going to make a second pair of these. I can't help myself.

I then got it into my head to make myself some mittens using a recycled sweater.

Contrasted against my new funky apron

On a whim, I added felt birds. I liked the effect and got so many compliments on it that I then knit up some purple mittens and slapped some birds on them.

 But why stop there? I have a fair amount of felt, and I still had some sweater left. So I made these.

Sadistic? Perhaps. But funny.

And then these. Because I seem to work in twos.

And that's where I am currently at in my war against the cold. At least as far as hands are concerned.

Fingerless mittens time!

A while back I made a couple pairs of fingerless mittens. These first pair, made out of a bulky cashmere blend yarn, are simple and fold back to create an extra layer of warmth. I knit them for a Welsh woman who was visiting, and they seemed like just the thing for the cold, damp winters in Wales. Or so I have heard, never having been to Wales myself. But I imagine, in my extremely fecund (and wistful) imagination, that it is much like coastal Northern California, except colder and tremendously more Welsh. 

There is no left or right, only thinking makes it so.

Lest you doubt the seriousness of these mitts, witness them on my hand.



L

Granted, I am petite.

The second pair of gloves were purely for sale. They're in my etsy shop. I'd had the yarn forever (Grab bag or gift? Can't recall, but I love me a good grab bag.)

See that white Corelle mug? I confess, I generally commit serial monogamy with my coffee mugs. Before this one was a hand made mug that cost me $15 at the local farmers market, and we were going along quite well until V. broke it. So it goes. I still have the above Corelle mug, but I put it away once I saw the green mug (second photo down in linked page) in the thrift store. I know - spurned over a $1.91 used mug! But frankly, I found the Corelle mug in a free box on the curb, and it was dirty, so really it should just get over itself and be glad it's in a cupboard.

And frankly, even the green mug doesn't compare to just my memory of the yellow mug.

They fit small women hands. Because I am a small woman.

A matched pair. Way easier than with striped socks.

I have an idea for some funky fingerless glove/mittens ideas, which will be coming up soon.



Extreme Budgeting

I don't know how many of you have noticed, but I have gone from being a woman who works in an architectural firm in Boston to a woman who works in an architectural firm in the Bay Area who has a toddler. The economy has also changed. All in all, even with a decent income, I am broke.

So, extreme budgeting time. I need to restrict my spending. This about more than the yarn diet I am already on... I need to not eat out, or splurge on anything not carefully planned. That's not easy as a single mother, because life throws random stuff at you and sometimes there simply isn't time or opportunity to pack a lunch or make dinner.

I am going to start logging where the money goes as much as seems prudent.

Today I:

• Spent $5 at a bagel place for coffee and bagel with cream cheese, because I woke up late this morning and the coffee I made was crap and I didn't eat breakfast or have time to pack a lunch.
• Made V. oatmeal and toaster hash browns, and she barely ate any of it, because she wanted to play with my housemate's kids, who were home sick.
• In retrospect, I should have eaten her breakfast.

Knitting
On the knitting front, the poncho is not yet done, but I have a pair of swatch booties that are almost complete and ready for their guinea pig recipient, my co-worker's new baby.

I need to make the ties...

More on the Dutch

I snapped a couple shots this morning of the Gentleman's Simple Sock that I blogged about yesterday. I didn't feel the one blurry photograph of the entire sock would really address the issues I'm feeling enthusiastic about.

Side view of Dutch heel

From the side, laid flat, the Dutch heel doesn't look like all that much to write home about, much less blog about. This is perhaps why I overlooked it for so long. Its true nature is not revealed until you look at it from below.

Bottom view of Dutch heel - note where the purled "seam stitch" stops and the decreasing begins

Look at the above photograph. That is the center bottom of the heel, that area you put your weight on when you're walking. Notice the big thing that looks like a rib in the middle of it? That is where the decreases are being formed. They are not delicately placed to either side like with the French heel I have been doing for so many years. (Yes - I have been faithful to the French heel for years now. I go in for all kinds of toes, but heels - no. I also don't go toe-up. I've tried it several times, but it restricts a person to very specific toe types.)

Better view of the ridge/rib

I like the narrow ridge/rib that runs along the bottom of this heel. I did a quick Internet search, and not everyone does their Dutch heel this way, some of them simply look like square heels, where the ridge/rib is almost as wide as the heel flap. That creates a look that is aesthetically and functionally very much like the French heel, which eliminates the features that I'm so keen on.

I said I did a basic wide toe on this sock, but that is not strictly true. It was all as usual until the end, where it was drawn together rather than kitchenered. This is not what I usually do, but it was what the pattern called for. I think I kind of like it, because I am lazy. Seven plus years of sock knitting and I still moan and have to get out the glossary for the instructions on kitchenering. I can never remember how it starts! With this toe, I can be as intellectually lazy as I want to be.

basic wide toe with drawn-together closure

Oh, and I measured the sock to assauge my nervous Nelly side. About 10 inches, which according to the info. I've found on shoes sizes should theoretically fit a man who wears anything from a US size 7 1/2 to US size 10, based on my theory that about a 10% negative ease (in this case, 1 inch) is what is comfortable in a sock, unless it is very tightly knit. Now I don't need to undo the toe and add length, thank goodness! 

Some Dutchness

I don't know how I escaped knowing about the Dutch heel, but apparently I did until I attempted the Gentleman's Simple Sock from Nancy Bush's Knitting Vintage Socks. I've had the book for years - at least seven, I think - and I never realized the Dutch heel existed.

The Dutch heel, in my limited experience so far, consists of a heel flap that then begins to be reduced in the middle before "turning" and forms a rib down the sole on the bottom of the heel. To me, this seems like a fine solution to the problem of extra wear on the bottom of the heel, and it addresses my need to make heels distinct. I like to use reinforcing thread, and depending on the heel type, this either results in a tidy area of contrasting color... or not.

bad photo, good sock

This heel style is pretty much letting me have my way with things, and may become my new standard. I used some heathered gray reinforcing thread that came with a ball of Jawoll sock yarn, which resulted in a nice, subtle contrast against the graphite color of the Regia Silk sock yarn. I am extremely pleased by this. The toe was also reinforced, and is just a basic wide toe. I am, however, having some doubts about whether I made the sock big enough. I followed the instructions precisely, but still... I'm going to check out some charts on foot lengths vs. US shoe sizes and then whip out a tape measure and see if the sock would have to stretch more than a comfortable 10% larger...

Little Red Hat/Hood

A couple months ago I knit up a vintage hat/hood bonnet-like thing for V. I'm not really sure what to call it, but it's cute. (Please excuse the poor picture quality - these photos were taken on my camera phone, since somehow someone managed to stick their very tiny fingers into my camera aperture and break my camera... again.) It's a pattern from a Columbia-Minerva Baby Book Vol. 67 (1943).

Side view

Front-ish view

You can see the thing a bit more clearly in the photo below.

I used a fiery red colorway of Paton's Classic Wool, which has turned out to be one of my staples when I'm in a jam. I had just enough of it to make it, which was about 3/4 of a ball, because I had previously made V. a retro-themed red sweater. (I haven't shown that one yet - I need to!)

She hasn't worn it much yet since it's spring, but because it's really more of a  tie-on hood than a fitted hat, it will fit her next season. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, and even brought her a dress to go with it for next fall/winter.

Dilligence. Sort Of.

Well, I have been a busy bee lately. I'm trying to do the unthinkable - finish up UFO's and WIP's and Work From the Stash - and I'm making fair progress so far.

Thanks to the WWI scarf, endless garter stitch is now just a really long time to spend on garter stitch. The blandness of the WWI scarf pattern made my Interminable Garter Stitch project actually bearable, and even a little entertaining, because the color changes. I was even amused by the massive tangle the last half of the skein had become. It just added another layer of entertainment. Until, of course, I ran out of yarn. I'd optimistically only bought 2 skeins of the yarn I use for this project. At $23/skein, you could possibly see why. I figure it's variegated and lot differences won't matter so much. However, do I remember what brand the yarn was? I started that project a long time ago. Hmmm...

The bed socks have temporarily been thrown to the wayside. (I just read a note in my old post about this pattern wherein I said I would knit them again if I forgot how frickin' long it took me. I guess I did forget. :P) 

In their place, I am knitting another pattern from the same book (Nancy Bush's Knitting Vintage Socks). These are just plain men's socks, on US #2 needles, using a graphite colored Regia Silk sock yarn. They are progressing much more rapidly than a pattern that calls for a k3tog every fourth row, I must say. And thank goodness for that!

And yes, this IS stash yarn!

But what I really want to do is knit these bad boys:

These are argyle socks from an authentic 1920's pattern. The question is, though: Do I have enough stash yarn in the right colors and brands to do it, or would I have to buy the yarn? I'm afraid I may have to start knitting them to find out, possibly about half way through the second sock.