Making Miscellany 2:1
Two steps forward, one step back.
Hello, dear reader, hello and welcome to the first Making Miscellany of 2024. It’s hard to believe this inaugurates year two of this space; thanks very much for being here!
I come to you today with a tale of knitterly … well I don’t know what! Will it be a tale of woe, of triumph, one that ends with a bang or whimper? It’s anyone’s guess! The fate of this sweater is still hanging in the balance. Here goes!
Many, many moons ago, before I lived on this side of the Atlantic, I heard tale of a beautiful wool, perfectly heathered and bouncy, a wool with delightful stitch definition that came in delectable shades, the most delicious of which was a perfect yellow, dyed over a grey base. The yarn was Gilliatt, the color, Genêt. I can’t remember how I’d happened on it, but I do remember this: I couldn’t find a shop selling this most beautiful yarn in the United States, so my mom and I, who have always loved to enable each other in beautiful yarn acquisition, placed an order with the French-based company, De Rerum Natura. I still remember opening the box, with yarn wrapped up in tissue and tied with sprigs of lavender, and thinking that my two sweater quantities (for I also had fallen for a lovely deep grey) were some of the most beautiful yarns I had ever received.
What happened next will be, I’m sure, familiar to some of you: I bought these sweater quantities (SQs) with no specific project in mind, but with an intention of knitting with them, and soon. Every few months, I’d see a new sweater pattern and mentally allocate the precious yarn. If I had a list for every sweater I dreamed of making with my Gilliatt …
Finally, last year [checks notes, oh dear, time is a funny thing …] in the summer of 2021, I broke into my Gilliatt stash and knit White Russian by Thea Colman, and it became an instant favorite garment (10/10 would knit again) and confirmed that Gilliatt was as fabulous a yarn as I had imagined it to be all the years that I’d been knitting with it in my head; I resolved to finally knit my coveted balls of Genêt into something equally nice.
Some time and a baby intervened, but last autumn, I was ready: a mustard cardigan, I had realized, was absolutely what my wardrobe needed. After spending so many years planning what I might knit, in the end, I cast on with almost wild abandon for Orlane Sucche’s Calix Cardigan [Ravelry link] shortly after it was released.
The pattern was pleasant, but slower than I anticipated: usually a bit of cabling with plenty of rest rows is my sweet spot. I plodded through the yoke. I divided. I powered through the body. I knit the very long buttonband, convinced that seeing off that particular bugbear would make the sleeves a breeze (it didn’t). I wondered if I’d picked up just a few too many stitches for the button band, then decided it was fine (this might become important later).
With the holidays approaching, I set my cardigan to the side to focus on festive makes. And so it was with, if not pure pleasure, at least excitement, tinged with a desire to just finish, that I returned to my cardigan at the beginning of January. I dutifully finished the first sleeve, embarked on the second, gamely frogging and reknitting the better part of it after I went wrong with the cables (anyone else most likely to make this mistake at the end of a project and confident you know what you’re doing + eager to get done?) Then, just over a week ago, I cast off on a Saturday night.
Eager to lose no momentum, I (unusually, for me) immediately wove in the ends. The next morning, as Storm Isha roared outside, I sent my dreamy cardigan to the bath. It soaked, it came out sodden, I realized that it had little hope of drying it given how damp everything was. “Nevermind, I’ll just do a quick spin in the washing machine”—a trick I’ve used many times before to wring out some moisture. Lowest spin, for the shortest time possible … and reader, it came out of the machine looking for all the world like it was felted. I despaired, I cursed my efficiency in blocking it — why had I not waited for better weather? — I showed it to a good friend and accomplished knitter who was over for dinner, and she too saw the stitches fuzzed up, the cable definition, before so pronounced, deadened and flat. I was as low as one can be, when the subject involved is made with sticks and strings.
I left it, still sodden (because to add insult to injury, the spin cycle hadn’t been very effective) overnight, and the next morning, resolved to slither into the hideously wet thing—side note, did you know wool can feel slimey?!—to see if it still fit. And reader, it did! In fact, it seemed the size hadn’t changed much at all. With hope renewed, I gave up on “nicely” blocking the sweater and moved it to the radiator. And as it dried, something magical began to happen — the stitch definition returned, the cables seemed to pop again. I breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the fabric had been very lightly felted in places, or just a bit fuzzed up, but my cardigan, it seemed, was saved. Nothing remained but to sew the buttons on and start wearing it.
I’ve sewn on those buttons, I’ve put my sweater on and it’s … meh. You’d think with it’s narrow escape from a felted fate, it could do no wrong. But, the fit is … off. The fabric hangs oddly from my shoulders, distorting where the stockinette gives way to cables. Perhaps reblocking, flat, will help? And the button band, the several hundred stitch buttonband, is just too big. It wibbles down the front. It refuses to lie flat as it travels up the chest and over the shoulders. It will have to be ripped out and reknit (and can I find my notes about how many stitches I picked up — no, no I can’t).
Usually, I’d force myself to waste no time in fixing the problem, but I think, given the—again in crafty terms—emotional rollercoaster this sweater has taken me on this month, it might be time to take a wee break. While it might just be the work of an evening or two to fix it, I think I need to wait until I feel a little less frustrated with it. After all, I waited some nine years to use the yarn, what’s another few weeks? My hope is, with some buttonband doctoring, some strategic (and careful) steaming, and a little space, I’ll end up with a cardigan that has as long and happy a residency in my wardrobe as the coveted balls of wool had all those years in my stash. Watch this space.
And with my tale told, let’s sprint through some of the other things that have kept my hands busy this month!
There’s been plenty of sock-related activity, with the launch of Make Socks Mend Socks 2024 (and it’s never too late to join in, if you fancy):
A pair of fluffy bed socks for a small person who loves pink (cast off and realized they only just fit, so they’ll need length adding soon …)
Three pairs of socks mended, with the heel of one going holey the next day (this newsletter is starting to feel like a knitter’s cover of Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic.”)
And my DK Moomin socks, finished at what feels a very fitting moment. The yarn was gifted to me by a wonderful friend, who is about to move—I’m glad I can wear them and think of the happy times we’ve had knitting together while watching our babes play.
But it’s not all been socks! There’s been a technicolor-flecked cast on, to keep a tiny dancer warm:
And something a bit different — button making, from a brilliant workshop! I’m looking forward to continuing to hone my skills (and adding stick forager to my list of hobbies):
Slowly, I’ve also been building back up to getting my sewing machine out. A pair of cord Bobs are cut and awaiting assembly.
And I’m already planning my next cast on, a sinuous cabled vest in this wonderfully tweedy yarn. I’m (gently) challenging myself to knit it over the month of February. Just don’t hold me to it.
So, some setbacks this month, but also, lots of progress: two steps forward, one step back. (And you know, looking at that round up, maybe I can concede there’s been more forward movement than I thought when I started writing).
Last but not least, a few recipe recs: this fried rice made an excellent midweek dinner — I think it’d also be great with tofu or chicken — we ate it with a lot more kimchi than the recipe suggested! These cookie bowls have been one of our go-to desserts for several years; perfect for when you want something relatively quick but super yummy for just one or two! And we’re looking forward to giving this focaccia pizza a try this weekend!
I hope you, too, have had a nice January, with a few steps forward in your making. As always, I’d love to hear what you’re working on, thinking about, the project you’re loving or sending to the naughty corner — I am here for it!
xo Katherine
What a beautiful cardigan! I say rip out that neckband now, then put the cardigan aside ready to start fresh when you are. I bet some steam snd a new neckband will do the trick.