Thursday, September 30, 2010

First of the Last Thursdays

So, I've decided to try setting up shop at the lovely, insane anarchy that is Last Thursday on Alberta. (For non-Portlanders this is kind of like a monthly street fair, but with no rules and regulations, lots of random "vendors," wierdly shaped bikes, impromptu performances, drunk people and hipster posturing).

This isn't really the first time I've tried selling wares at Last Thursday. Five or six years ago I went up there with a folding tray table and 6 pairs of randomly designed handwarmers. There were no signs or price tags or anything. I must of looked sad and rather adorable staring at the handwarmers on the table, laid out in front of me like some sort of strange solitaire game. I didn't sell anything, but I did manage to do a few trades with some of the other crafty vendors there.

Honestly, I don't know if I will fare any better this time around, but I do feel more prepared.
I'll still have a few pairs of handwarmers, of course...


But I'll also have some headbands, hats, cowls, scarves and even one or two little knitting kits I made up:



They come in cute little lamb bags. (After printing him a few dozen times, I've decided the lamb's name is Herb)

 And I will also have lovely printed copies of all my knitting patterns. Given that 6 years ago during my handwarmer phase I  just barely knew how to read a pattern, let along write one, I'm feeling particularly proud of my pattern pups. Oh little knitting self, how you grow up so fast.

If any Portland readers feel like heading out on a lovely, summery fall night, please come and find me. I'll be the one playing solitaire with knitted goods.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Balustrade Cowl



Let's have a little chat about lace. Not the kind of lace in doilies or the fancy see-through kind adorning a lot of black dresses this fall, but knitted lace patterns. The kinds with names like "winding trail," "passionflower" or "snowdrops," the kind of lace that wraps any hat, sweater or shawl into it's complicated web and turns it into a prized heirloom. I don't think I could ever have enough knitted lace, and a pretty lace triangle shawl is about the best it gets. Almost. Lately, I've been having trouble with my beloved triangle scarves. It's not just the logistics of keeping one wrapped securely around my neck - the ocean wind almost stole a lovely swallowtail shawl from me once on a Seattle ferry.
 It's just that sometimes I crave something a little less sweet and quaint, and a little more modern.


 So, me and my lacey, shawly self got together and decided on a compromise. The result is a long, wide cowl knit seamlessly in the round. Bands of simple, geometric lace are separated by slightly gathered garter strips that create a nice, full drape when wrapped around your neck. I designed it imagining I'd wear it this way, wrapped double so it looks like a pretty, perfectly tousled scarf with no ends, or shifting, or fiddling needed. But, actually, it turns out to be a more versatile little piece of lace than I thought...



I named this pattern Balustrade, which is a fancy architectural word for a railing on a staircase or porch. I named it this partly because the lace reminded me of the geometric shapes and patterns often found on railings or windows, but also because the cowl reminded me of the word itself - a bit of lovely, pretty fluff for something that is, at its heart, utterly functional.

If you find yourself craving a bit of lace, please check out the Balustrade pattern on Ravelry here or on Etsy here.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Butterscotch

I do believe I have a new favorite color.

Lest you think favorites come easily to me, I assure you - they do not. I'm the type of indecisive person that when usually faced with the question - "What's your favorite color?" - will hem and haw before answering - "The first half of the rainbow." What can I say? I love colors. We get along famously. Picking a favorite is like asking me to name the best movie or author or - gasp! - food.  My love (and gluttony) are too big for favorites.

But then this color came along....It started with these handwarmers I made for my friend Andrea...



It was one of those knitting experiences where I had to stop every few rows just to examine the lovely glow of the yarn. And then when I was writing up the pattern, I looked at the label and noticed the name of the color....Butterscotch. Oh my.


The cotton/cashmere yarn was quite buttery indeed. I turned the remainders into this headband and discovered the color was actually flattering on me too. Since then, I've been drawn to this color everywhere....In my new fabulously amazing  shoes...


Even in puppy dogs...


And so now when I go into yarn stores, I can't resist any yarn that is vaguely this color. I recently picked up this ball of Berocco Peruvia, and I can't decide what to knit with it. Handwarmers? Hat? Cowl? I want it all!!!


The name of this particular colorway is something pedestrian like Orange or Pumpkin. But, I mean, seriously people, is there a better name for a color than Butterscotch? Butter.  Scotch. Particularly when butterscotch pudding, or if you're feeling gluttonous, a butterscotch budino, is pure smooth, soft, caramel heaven?  A color and a food all in one. Sigh. Welcome to my land of favorites, Butterscotch. I hope you stay a while.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Autumn Instructional

I know there have probably been a millon blog posts on this already, and I'm sure everyone is sick of talking about it, but the weather this year has been really frickin' annoying. I've been dealing with it up until now, letting winter, spring and summer move along in their freaky, foreboding, vaguely apocolyptic ways. But now the weather gods have started to mess with autumn, and NOBODY messes with autumn.

Fall has to be one of my favorite things in the entire world. I spend most of the year pining for it, but here it is, September, and honestly, I'm not that excited. Summer in Portland didn't feel like Summer, and so, inevitably, Fall has started to feel, well, not very Fallish at all.

I don't even know if it's the weather's fault anymore. Maybe it's just me. So I've decided to share a little instructional I made, in case you need one too, on how to get into the spirit and fall back in love with fall.



Step #1 - Dress the part. Dig out your favorite fall boots, your cozy patterned tights,  your rustiest colored clothing. When you get dressed in the morning, pretend it is the most perfect fall day out, with crisp, cool air, and red-orange leaves speckling the sky. Don't worry if people think you are crazy wearing a scarf and a hat when it's 80 degrees outside. If you're anything like me, you already look crazy.

Step #2 - Drink tea. Preferably something with cinnamon, or apple or vanilla.



Step #3 - Take a walk. Preferably with a cute dog. Look for signs of fall. Dead grass, leaves turning at the edges? No luck. Look for orange painted houses or brick walls and pretend they are trees.



Step #4 - Come home, curl up in your coziest chair and daydream about all the summer fun you had. It was there, remember? The days swimming in the lake, exploring golden meadows, eating ripe tomatoes peaches. Ahh, that was nice. Now, daydream about all the fall fun ahead - apple pies, corn mazes, pumpkin patches, cozy wool sweaters!

Feeling it yet?
Yeah, me neither. I miss my red ripe tomatoes.
Damn you, weather gods.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Sweet Olivia

I love making baby sweaters.  They should feel totally impractical - spending hours knitting something that will, in short time, be grown out of, covered in spit up, or ruined in a washing machine. But they just have so much else going for them, mostly their killer mini-size cuteness. Every time I knit an adult sweater, I find myself wishing it was for a baby. It would just be so much easier and cuter that way, and I wouldn't have to worry about the sweater being flattering or making my arms look like sausages. Baby arms already look like sausages! Plus, baby sweaters use a small amount of patience and an even smaller amount of yarn. And they provide a good opportunity for trying out new techniques on a quicker, faster project. A lace baby sweater, or pretty fairisle pullover? Maybe it's a little bit much, but they just scream heirloomy love, and warm, fuzzy knitted good will. 

And, indeed, a whole lot of knitty love went into this baby cardigan I designed for my friend's new baby, Olivia. I wanted it to feel special and sweet, but also modern and a little bit bold. Like any great baby sweater, it was a fast knit, with a few challenges thrown in for fun, and a couple of great educational moments (purple and orange are made for each other? who knew!). I got to experiment with designing my own colorwork pattern and doing a partial steek. But what really made this sweater exciting was that it was the first time I've knit a baby sweater and wished I was knitting it in my size instead. I want one of these so badly!

If you know of any hip, modern babies in need of a pretty new something, please check out the pattern on ravelry here or etsy here. It's available in newborn to 2T sizing. However, the moment I started those colorwork leaves, the adult pattern became inevitable, so I'll let you know when that comes out too.

Monday, May 3, 2010

dkk knits

So, my sister has been traveling around Europe for the past two months. Surprsingly, I'm not that jealous. Really. Truly. Except maybe a little, teeny bit whenever she emails me about all the cool knitting she is seeing on fashionable ladies in Iceland, or Berlin, or Copenhagen. She sends me little snippets of design ideas - gauzy or deconstructed tunics, necklace necklines, chunky knits. She says the women in Copenhagen make knitting look chic. Intrigued, I spent a little time perusing the internet for some made in denmark knits, and wow, there is some crazy stuff out there. Why I haven't been drooling over international knitting for years is beyond me. Design sense +  lithe, skinny european figures = some very adventurous knitwear.

Check out this dress from Trine Elmkvist, a graduate of the The Danish Design School.


   
I don't think this is what my sister had in mind, she was probably drooling over something machine-made and ridiculously impossible to knit like this:


I'll take the fun, handknit garter patchwork dress any day. And by take, I mean knit. I'm not quite confident enough to pull off wearing something like that. Which is maybe the downfall of a lot of the couture knitting I viewed. This chunky knit hat?

 
Seriously insane. You won't be seeing a pattern for one of these headache-inducing puppies on this blog anytime soon. I did, however, find one piece of handknitted yumminess that manages to be both chic, cozy, fun to knit and beautifully wearable.




This sweater makes me swoon. It's from a handknit line by Gudrun & Gudrun. You can't tell from the picture, but the knitting is just loose and gauzy enough be really sensual and drapey. It's knit from organic Faroese wool. Apparently it's their best seller, and Helena Christensen wears hers all the time. 
And it's only 2,100 DKK. Which is, hmmm..... $372.41.

They don't skimp on prices in Denmark, let me tell you. In fact, that was the other half of my sister's recent report from Copenhagen - some serious whining about how expensive it is. Yup. Definitely not that jealous.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Messy Scarf


You might not be able to tell over the internet, but I'm a bit of a slob.

If there were a scale of slovenliness from 1 to 10, I'm about a 6. (I mean, there are some serious, serious slobs out there...I'm not so bad that I would end up on the evening "news" or anything).

Anyway, that's just who I am. I will always be the girl with dirty glasses, sweaters covered in dog hair, random bits of food stuck in her hair, and smudges all over her face. More often than not if some one is staring at me it's because they are about to say "Ummmm, I think you have a little something...."

At some point in my life my messy status went from being a fact to a point of pride. I just learned to love it as part of myself and incorporate it into my "style." I feel a little weird saying that because I don't always think of myself as stylish, but if were possible for messy to make you look more chic, this scarf manages to pull it off.

The original orange version of this scarf has seen a LOT of love over the years, and I've made more from requests from friends. It has a weird way of perking up an outfit - it's beautifully messy and fun, and it's a breeze to knit up.

This pattern is great for stash-busting or showing off random bits of pretty yarn. And I love that I get to knit stripes without having to tie in the ends.

With the kerchief cowl, the fringe cowl and now this, I might be a little triangle crazy. I promise this is my third and final pattern for a triangle shaped neckwarmer....but just between you and my messy self, I've saved the best for last :)

NOTES:

This pattern is really just a general guide to knitting this scarf. It is super flexible. Each one I've made has been a little different, depending on the yarn, but the pattern is always forgiving. It's good for beginners because if you make a mistake it's really hard to notice on the finished product.

You can use any kind of yarn you want for this project, but I recommend using a combo that goes like this:

Yarn A: something interesting with either good texture or lots of colors, something that pops
Yarn B: a solid colored yarn that coordinates with A
Yarn C: a mohair or something hazy for the lace

In the following picture, if we pretend the blue isn't there, than the sea green would be the A, the yellow-green is the B, and the grey is the C.
Pretending aside, I threw the blue in on a whim cause I liked it, so really, people, you should be using whatever yarn you darn well please.



To get a good drape, you'll want to use larger needles than you would normally use for your yarn. For instance, with worsted weight yarn, you'd want a size 10 needle or so. If your yarn is a range of different weights don't worry about it, just base your needle size off of a weight somewhere in the middle.

This scarf is knit flat on straight needles, but I'd recommend knitting on circular needles if you have them to accommodate all the stitches you cast on at the beginning.

The scarf is knit from the widest part of the triangle down.
The top of your triangle should be around 36 inches, though feel free to go bigger or smaller.

Figure out how many stitches per inch you get knitting in garter with Yarn A.
Mulitply that by 36 and then round to the nearest ODD number. Cast on that many stitches.

PATTERN:

Garter Section:

With Yarn A:
Knit 2 rows
Switch to Yarn B.
Knit 1 Decrease row as follows : SSK, knit to end, K2tog
Knit 1 row.
Knit 1 Decrease row.
Knit 1 row.

Lace Section:
Switch to Yarn C.
Row 1: P1, K1, *yo, K2tog* repeat until last stitch, P1
Row 2: P2tog, purl to last 2 stitches, P2tog
Repeat these two rows 4 more times, or until the lace section is a big as you want it be.

Then knit another Garter Section.

Keep alternating the Garter Section and the Lace Section till you have about 3 stitches left,
then K3tog and pull the yarn through the last stitch.

Attach fringe to the start of each section on both sides. You'll want to use a mix of all the yarns in the scarf for the fringe, just mix them all together until it looks like a good balance to you. I like to make my fringe really long, and then cut it at the end until the length looks right.

Wear your messiness with pride!