Flint Knits

A few months ago, my friend Liz turned 26.

Like any good party, her birthday party had a theme: The 10th Anniversary of her Sweet Sixteen. This meant that the whole party was 1998-themed. Genius.

Liz is a rare gem. She’s smart, and sassy, and fucking hilarious, and a contains brilliant mix of cynicism and earnestness that makes her a total joy to hang out with. She’s a fabulous cook. She tells the truth. She enjoys life and makes fun of it at the same time. She’ll tease you ruthlessly, and defend you fiercely. She’s at once terrifically cranky and remarkably sensitive. She contains multitudes.

I couldn’t make it to Minneapolis to party like it was 1998, so I sent her a couple of mix tapes for the soiree, and this little handmade gift.

Lovely, isn’t it? Just a plain log cabin square that I made with scraps, and sewed into a pillow cover with some whimsical pom-pom trim.

But that? That’s just one side.
Like Liz, the pillow is complex and layered:

What?

Oh!

Why, yes!

Yes, that is the cast of Season One of TV’s “Dawson’s Creek,” which premiered on the WB in 1998.

Ironed onto some undyed cotton and sewn into another log cabin square. I think it’s pretty fucking badass. Definitely my favorite TV-themed craft since the X-Files Diorama.

Happy Birthday, Lizzie!

NOTE: In honor of No Cussing Week, I thought I’d take a minute to discuss my own swears. I know I’ve dropped some F-bombs in the last few posts. I do it on purpose, for a couple of reasons: (1) I swear quite a lot in real life. I enjoy it. And (2) I want to chase away as quickly as possible any uptight know-it-alls with overdeveloped senses of entitlement who might later be caught off guard by a random swear and then be inclined to send me cranky condescending emails about my language. Those emails are stupid, and I’m tired of getting them. So, to paraphrase Liz, Happy No-Cussing Week, Motherfuckers!

You know how some people are just good to knit for?

Well, maybe we should address first those people who aren’t. Those people who get a handmade gift and set it aside or stuff it in a drawer; who don’t recognize the love and labor that went into it. Or who grumble that it’s not as good — as perfectly symmetrical or as neatly pressed or as easily washable — as a machine-made store-bought version.

Fuck those people. Never make them anything else, ever again. They do not deserve it.

But then there’s the people who not only (1) recognize what it takes (the expense, the thoughtfulness, the hours of your labor creating hundreds of tiny stitches, or seams, or bits of glued macaroni) to make and share handmade gifts, but also (2) really, really appreciate it. Those are the people you just want to keep giving stuff to.

Do it. They deserve it.

Years ago, my fabulous friend Michelle was so excited when I made her a simple garter-stitch scarf that she blurted out, “Oh my god it looks like you got it at K-Mart!” Which was her hilarious way of saying that she was impressed. Okay, maybe you have to know Michelle to understand how that’s a compliment — she’s kind of a weirdo. But the point is that, since then, I’ve made her a bunch of stuff, and will continue to make her bunches of stuff until she tells me to knock it off. Because she’s just one of those people that it’s a joy to make stuff for.

And so is my brother-in-law, Nate. Two years ago, I made him a colorwork hat with a secret Star Wars-themed lining and, when I gave it to him, I swear to freaking Yoda that he was so jazzed that he teared up a little. And then wore it around the house all day. Seriously, dude? That wins you handknits for LIFE. So the following year, I gave him a photograph for Christmas.

This is hockey legend George Hay, who played Detroit hockey in the 1920s and 30s. He played for the Cougars before they became the Falcons, and the Falcons before they became the Red Wings. And — the important part for me — he and his teammates wore some seriously badass sweaters.

14 months later, I mailed this to Nate in Denver.

pattern: Seamless Hybrid, from Elizabeth Zimmermann’s Knitting Without Tears
yarn: Louet Riverstone (from Hello Yarn), and Cascade 220
[raveled]

There’s not much I can say about the simplicity or perfectness of Zimmermann’s pattern that hasn’t already been said by Caro or Jared or — in a post that might make you cry — JulieFrick. I just added some stripes and block letters into the mix.

The Wings are headed to Denver soon to play the Avalanche. And Nate will be at the game wearing his sweater, even if, when it shows up at his door tomorrow, it turns out to be 3 sizes too big or too small, or the wool makes him break out in an itchy rash, or Mail Moths from outer space gnawed it to pieces in transit. Because that’s just the kind of dude he is. And why there’s loads of handmade prezzies in his future.

NOTE: Big, big thanks to Julia and Adrian for sharing their dye-setting wisdom — they two formed a thin woolly line between Nate and a blotchy pink sweater.

ANOTHER NOTE: ATTN: NATE! HAND WASH! COLD WATER! LAY FLAT TO DRY!

First, of all, congratulations to Elizabeth! The random number generator picked her comment from among the 343 entries to win Minty’s Tapestry Cowl pattern and the yarn to make it. I knew Elizabeth from Flickr, but didn’t realize she had a knitting blog–it turns out she’s a teenage knitting prodigy from right here in Michigan.

Kirsten cranks out patterns like it’s nothing, and they’re all classic and clever. The Joni hat is no exception.

pattern: Joni, by Kirsten Kapur of Through the Loops
yarn: Shibui sock merino
needles: US 3 Addi circular
[ravelry link]

Shibui yarn is lovely to work with, but, as others have noted, it pools. In obvious ways. Always. A lot. You can see in the photo above where it makes a huge swooping barberpole around the ribbing.

So, while it’s not my favorite for socks, I thought the Shibui was fine for the small, three-dimensional pieces of the Eden scarf. And now I think it looks fabulous in this kind of two-color work, where the pooling is less of an issue.

I just sent the finished hat to my friend Michelle, who will wear it and brighten up the Chicago winter this year.

Next up? Kirsten’s popular Thorpe hat [ravelry link] for myself, and a fingering-weight top that I just started. The top took me by surprise, and now I haven’t knit anything else in days. I expect to get heaps done on it while I’m glued to the TV during Tuesday’s election night party, but am a little concerned that my gauge will get VERY TIGHT as we watch the returns come in…

… they become children.

And all that baby knitting I did last year, for all those friends’ babies? Outgrown long ago, as those babies become kiddos. And while those kiddos won’t all be getting handknit gifts on a regular basis, I’ve happily discovered that knitting for my toddler niece is a lot like knitting for an adult. BUT FASTER.

pattern: Milan Jacket, by Louisa Harding, from Natural Knits for Babies and Moms
yarn: Lion Brand Cotton Ease, with Patons Grace for trim
needles: 4.5mm vintage
[raveled]

Once I put the red buttons on, they seemed to come screaming out of nowhere.
So I added the red trim to match –just a single crochet stitch around all the edges.

Thanks for all the links to great patterns! I’ll close comments on that post on Thursday, and pick a random winner.

I’m sorry I haven’t responded to all your contest entries and comments. I spent the weekend recording new songs with this band I’m in, and was rewarded with a wretched cold. The only good part of being this sick is that I have less guilt about shirking all that work I should be doing, and wasting the day on the sofa knitting and watching MSNBC election coverage in hopes that Rachel Maddow will appear and save us all from the Crazy (which she does just often enough to keep me watching).

Before you go, you should check out some of my current favorite things:

• Denyse Schmidt’s Obama quilt fundraiser [via doggedknits]
• the new shop from 100% Philistine-Made — I just bought a bitchin pincushion
• my new camera strap from Split Yarn

I’ve been hard at work on a research/writing project for the last two weeks. After 10-hour days at the library, my brain has been either too fried or too over-stimulated to sleep right away. So each night, I’d spend a couple of hours before bed watching tv-on-dvd and knitting. And before I knew it, I had sweater!

I cast on for this sweater in March, and it started out as my Zombie Knitting. You know, that giant tube of stockinette-in-the-round that you can work on in darkened movie theatres or on bumpy bus rides? The project you don’t actually have to look at while you’re knitting? So I’d pull it out once in a while, work an inch or two of the body, and put it away.

But once I got to the colorwork and the sleeves, I couldn’t set it down.

It’s a classic Norwegian-y sweater, with drop shoulders and steeked armholes.

Here’s a glimpse of the steeking process: sew, cut, seam.

This is the first time I’ve done Norwegian-style machine-sewn steeks, and I have to say I prefer the flexibility and precision of Fair Isle steeks. And no, these particular machine-sewn steeks aren’t the prettiest (I probably shouldn’t have done them at midnight after one of those 10-hour days), but such was the irresistible pull of this project. I was driven to finish.

pattern: Elizabeth Zimmermann’s “Norse Sweater” from The Opinionated Knitter
yarn: Ella Rae Classic wool
needles: 4.5mm DPNs, and 24″ and 16″ circulars
[Raveled]

I also discovered that Ella Rae Classic is great for colorwork projects: wooly, affordable, thinner than Patons merino, fuzzier than Cascade 220, and it took spit-splices like a hot, slobbery dream.

Here’s a full-on modeled shot:

And a look at the innards, for those of you who care about that sort of thing:

I’m not sure I like how the drop shoulder works for a sweater this close-fitting. The sleeve facings get a bit cumbersome under the arms, which wouldn’t be an problem in the roomier fit you usually see with this style. If I were to knit another worsted-weight sweater with steeked armholes, I think I’d use a finer yarn for the facings to cut down on bulk.

According to The Opinionated Knitter (probs one of the greatest knitting resources of All Time), EZ named this motif “Siwash” because the swirls seem to spell out that word. But I recognized “siwash” as a racist slur that comes from the French word for “savage.” So of course I immediately went into research mode.

I learned that Native folks in Vancouver have a long tradition of fiber arts, and have been knitting a particular style of big heavy sweater for over a century–they even raised and herded wool dogs before European colonizers brought sheep to North America. Whites started calling these sweaters “siwash sweaters,” and kept calling them that for a long time (i.e. well into Zimmermann’s time). Today we know them as Cowichan sweaters, named for the Cowichan First Nations. Then Michele told me about a great documentary called The Story of the Coast Salish Knitters, which I snagged through interlibrary loan. People of the Coast Salish First Nations of southern Vancouver Island were the original Cowichan sweater knitters, and the film tells the story of three generations of crafters. It’s well worth tracking down.

While EZ’s simple pattern may be inspired by Cowichan sweaters, you should definitely check out what an actual, amazing, authentic Cowichan sweater looks like. They’re pricey, yeah, but as knitters, we know how much labor goes into this kind of artwork. And buying them supports Cowichan First Nations artists and crafters. I wonder what it would take to convince every douchebag who ever bought a sweatshop-made $1000 cashmere sweater from some corporate designer label to buy one of these pretty babies instead … ?