Design my own knitwear: Check. Please welcome Iris Sweater.

A while ago I thought a raglan sweater with sleeves in a different color than the body would look cool, and those sleeves would be even cooler if they had some sort of fair isle pattern in them. Kind of like a long sleeved baseball T-shirt. That's got to be on Raverly, baseball is popular right? Turns out I couldn't find what I had in mind. So I thought, hey, why not make it myself! How hard can it be? Remember how I said I tend to start things and have no idea what I'm doing, or what I'm getting into? Yeah. Now I think there was a reason the design wasn't on Ravelry (until now!) It's because it's kind of pain in the ass to make, at least until you separate the sleeves from the body.

 "Is it going to be that short? And the neckline looks bad"-Mom

I had an image in my mind of what I wanted, and also how I wanted to do it...sort of. I did not know I had to learn intarsia knitting if I wanted the sleeves to actually be connected to the body. Nor that I would have 7 little wads of yarn to work with until I separated the sleeves. And ok, I get that a lot of raglans have you work flat for some neckline shaping and stuff. But I did not know that my intarsia sleeves did not lend themselves to round knitting. So I had to roll with it and shape the neckline into more of a scoop-neck and keep on knitting flat all the way till the sleeves were separated.

Don't worry Mom, I'm not making a boob shirt.

Once I figured the top out, the rest would be easy! Just plain circular knitting with some waist shaping. Except I didn't figure out beforehand how many decreases or increases to make, or how often. Patterns usually have sizing all spelled out for you! Oh but I'm making this up...crap. When I thought I was done I noticed the top fit fine, but the bottom didn't, and had to rip out my stitches about 10 inches. It made me sad.

Then it came time to write the pattern. Generally patterns exist in real or virtual space. As in someone wrote up what they did, instead of leaving it in their head. I wrote down what I was doing, while I was doing it, about 75% of the time. I think I did a pretty good job filling in the rest to make a pattern that can re-produce my sweater, but I didn't feel comfortable writing the pattern for other sizes when I had to reverse engineer instructions.

Ok enough complaining! Yes, this was hard to design, and I messed up my own design a few times in the process. But I'm very pleased with how Iris turned out. Plus I learned lots of knitting skillz for future designs. So, without further ado: Iris Sweater is available as a free PDF download on Ravelry or by clicking this link: http://www.ravelry.com/dls/stephanie-bora-designs/182625?filename=Iris_Sweater.pdf. I'm not charging for something that could have a decent amount of errors. So if you try making this and run into trouble or find errors, please contact me! I'd be happy to help as much as I can, and I'd like to fix errors in my pattern as they come up. Once you get the concept of how this sweater is constructed it's pretty straightforward, but keep in mind that it uses round and flat knitting, and intarsia and fair isle color work, so it may not be best for beginning knitters. Though that never stopped me. Enjoy!

The good, the bad, and the "meh," part 2

Part 1 of this series was about a sweater I made that didn't turn out as planned. But in this post, I'm focusing on a piece of knitwear that I'm very happy with, wear often, and am even a little proud of. My last post was about having a pity party and complaining when things don't work. This one I think is more fun: it's a chance to brag about something you created and love.

I like to think I take time making decisions. But once in a while I make up my mind to do something with very little forethought and no idea of what I'm getting into. Sometimes it's really big decisions, like "hey, I think I'll go to grad school." Other times it's more forgiving decisions, like "hey, I'm going to knit this lace top," even though I had never knit lace, read a pattern chart, or made anything more complicated than pair of socks. Those socks don't fit well either, FYI. So when I came across Quince & Co.'s "Helene," I decided I had enough of messing around, I was making this. I chose to blithely ignore the fact that this top was way beyond my skill level.

In part 1 of this post, I started out pretty full of myself. But in making this piece I was a little intimidated. I've never been good at arts/crafts. As a kid, my macaroni art was always sub-par, and I still can't color in the lines. I didn't think I had any more potential as a knitter than I do at turning pasta into pictures. I was so new to knitting I didn't even know how to wind a skein of yarn into a ball. Actually I didn't know what a skien was, and I was confused as to why my yarn arrived in this odd, braided shape. So when I found the ends, I turned the first skein into a fantastical knot that took days to undo. I'm not exaggerating: days. Then I Googled what a "skein" was. What a great start! Once I actually got knitting, I didn't realize the pre-blocked shirt would be so tiny. I was terrified I had made some mistake and would end up with a baby-sized shirt! There was much confusion, many YouTube tutorials, and profuse swearing. But two months later, out of the haze of nail-biting and worrying, my Helene emerged. And it was really cute! It fit me well! I, who didn't know the difference between a skein and a ball of yarn, transformed linen yarn into a lacy, fashionable shirt! It was like magic, except super slow!

"You jealous of my shirt bro?"

I love my Helene because it helped me realize why I love knitting. And even though I had no idea what I was doing, I was patient and learned and it worked out! It taught me a lot about drape, fit, and shaping. It's with Helene that I learned I can make something exactly for my body. Plus there are so many ways to dress this top! Maybe you didn't want to display your least loved projects, but what about your favorites? Share something you've made that you absolutely love! Tell me why you're proud of it. After all, you made it, you love it, and it's probably awesome, so don't be modest.

The good, the bad, and the "meh," part 1

You see a sweater pattern. You picture how it will look after you knit it up with your skillful hands. You haven't messed up a pattern yet, and you're obviously a natural. It's going to be sweet! Sure, you spot a part or two that may trip you up, but no biggie because you're awesome. And then you start, and you remember that your imagination and reality don't always mesh. This is the story of the "meh" project, in this case, the boyfriend sweater. If you have a good boyfriend sweater story, this is a good place to share it!

After having successfully made myself a couple of pullovers (as in 2) my boyfriend started looking wistfully at my warm merino wool sweater. I didn't have anything I was itching to make, and he didn't have any good sweaters, so why not make him one? I started in early March, thinking I can get it done in about a month for him to wear on the chillier spring days. I didn't finish the damn thing till July.

There were so many problems! My gauge was way off, my measurements were off, the yarn didn't hold shape, I hated the pattern. I started and ripped it out again three times. I was slogging through a bulky wool sweater in midsummer. I seriously wanted to burn my knitting, anything so I would never have to see it again. Yet another problem was I had never made anything for a body that is not my own.  Here's an interesting tidbit of information: men's bodies, in general, do not have waists like women's bodies do. They are also larger...like big rectangular boxes. Don't get me wrong, I like men's bodies.  They can be quite nice. And my boyfriend is not a large man. But his body requires more yarn than mine does, thus slowing me down when I'm already dreaming of burning his unfinished sweater.

I went from being optimistic about knitting my wonderful boyfriend a wonderful sweater, to feeling sorry he would be stuck with it, because I wasn't stopping this far in. Oh no, I was committed. In the end my feelings about my first boyfriend sweater settled on "meh," and that's the closest thing to a positive feeling I've had about it. It ended up saggy and oversized. But on the plus side I learned a lot from this particular project. I learned how to do saddle shoulders and a shawl collar. I learned I didn't pick the best way to make the pockets. I learned I have a lot to learn, and I'm still pretty new to knitting. I learned to slow down and think through parts of a pattern I don't understand.

I hope you've never made something you're unhappy with.  But if you have, this is the place to rant about it. Post an image link to your not-so-loved project and commiserate! Why didn't it turn out as you imagined? Did you learn anything new from your "meh" project? What would you have done differently? I would have knit my boyfriend a basic raglan pullover instead of a more complicated cardigan, but hindsight is 20/20.  The good news out of all of this is he actually likes his sweater. I'm still not convinced he has a good sweater.

For the love of knitting

"How can you even stand to do that?" is what my mom usually asks when she sees me knitting. And some times I think she may have a point. Modern industry has removed the need for us to make our own clothes, good yarn is not cheap, and knitting is time consuming.  So why knit?

I started knitting less than two years ago. Before that, if someone asked me what I thought about knitting I'd probably have said something like: lame, waste of time, and isn't that for old people? I was so scathing I would even roll my eyes walking by the local yarn shop (gasp!). At the ripe age of 24 I apparently became an old person.  I was waiting around at my pharmacy, and a woman next to me was knitting. She was working on a tube-shaped thing with some pretty small needles, but I remember it being a really lovely variegated red. Deep and vibrant. We had a pivotal conversation in which I learned how wrong I was, and she inspired a passion in me to learn knitting. I remember it exactly: "Are you knitting?" "Yep." "Is it difficult to do?" "Nope." I was sold.  That very night I bought some cheap yarn and needles, intended to make a scarf (those are simple right?) and I was off! Or was I on? Wait, what's casting on? Casting off, are we sailing? How did I make that hole? Purl?! There's more than just a knit stitch? Basically I had no idea what I was doing, and this has become a theme throughout my knitting.  But after watching the same YouTube videos over and over (shout out to knittinghelp.com) and getting some basics down, I decided to use that holey, uneven, lumpy "scarf" to learn more techniques.  

I've been knitting ever since for a few reasons. The most obvious is sweaters are awesome, and there are a lot of fashionable designs out there.  Who doesn't love a good fall sweater, or summery linen top? But beyond the great fashion potential, I really love knitting. It's steady, rhythmic, and helps slow my mind down. But what I may love most is the progress.  When you knit a stitch, you've made a stitch.  It's right there for you to see.  I love this.  In the lab I work in, that type of visual progress is almost non-existant. I can't see what's going on at the cellular level, but I can see a stitch.

http://www.etsy.com

So why do you knit? For me, it's because I love the process of seeing something take shape. Tell me how you got started knitting!  Did you learn as a child? Did you teach yourself after being an ass about it it, like me? Is it a family tradition? Share why you love it! What is it about looping yarn around itself that draws you in? I'd love to hear!