It started like so many conversations do: Emily and I were unpacking some new yarn. We looked at all the colors and talked about which ones went together, and which ones went with other yarns in the shop, and what people might make with them … and then it happened. One of us pulled out a ball of dusty pink yarn.
This color made headlines in the last few years - some people call it “millennial pink.”
On one hand, it’s pretty, it’s not as sweet as some pinks can be, it goes with lots of other colors and it looks good on lots of people.
On the other hand, it was everywhere for a while. I saw clothes and accessories in that color in nearly every store I went into.
That ball of pink mohair opened up the door to an interesting discussion.
When you make something, do you want people to be able to tell it’s handmade?
Emily said for her, she loves it when she wears a garment she’s knitted or sewn and it is indistinguishable from a commercially made item.
To her, it means the item she made is well-crafted and looks like professional work. It means that the pattern she chose is sophisticated, current, and stylish - all good things.
Other designers agree, like Elizabeth Margaret, who teamed up with Jennifer Parroccini to become One Wild Designs, (they visited STYC last year, if those names look familiar).
She wrote this on Instagram recently: “Is it just me, or does ‘did you make that?’ not feel like a compliment?”
There are definitely makers who say there’s a difference between “handmade” and “homemade.” One term - handmade - implies technique, skill, and craft in a way that “homemade” doesn’t.
But many of the things knitters and crocheters like to make are not items that most people wear anymore. Gone are the days when a well-dressed lady wouldn’t step out for the day without a shawl, for example.
If I wear one of my handknitted shawls or wraps, anyone who knows anything about fashion knows I didn’t buy it at a store. And when I’ve knit sweaters, I almost always chose colors I love, regardless of what was in style.
There are a lot of reasons to make your own clothes: getting something to fit exactly right, or using colors you love, or making your own version of whatever happens to be hot off the runway this season.
And there are a lot of ways to make it look more like a piece of clothing you bought, whether it’s knitting at a fine gauge with fingering weight yarn, (Elizabeth Margaret’s top tip) or choosing colors in the fashion mainstream.
That’s why the fiber arts are fun - no matter your taste, there’s a way to show it off (or not.)
]]>It’s time to cast on and create, whether you’re an old pro at this knitting thing, or whether you’re trying for the first time.
With creation comes mistakes, though, and the New York Times helpfully wrote an article the other day about a book by Amy Edmondson, called “Right Kind of Wrong: The Science of Failing Well,” which I have already put on hold at my library. Her book focuses more on failures in the workplace, but I think the article had some good tips for all of us who have tried something - and not had it work out the way we wanted it to. Which is every person on the planet.
So cast on, fearless fiber artists, and don't worry about making a mistake here and there - it's proof that you're learning something.
]]>It was a gray day and a little rainy and honestly, nothing sounded like a better idea than that.
If you’re looking for a couple fiber-themed books to go with your latest work-in-progress, I’ve got two suggestions.
First up is Clara Parkes’ “Vanishing Fleece,” published in 2019.
It’s the story of Parkes’ journey transforming a 600-plus bale of wool fleece into a commercial yarn. Along the way, she talks about the American wool industry and about the small mills and businesses that still work turning fleeces into yarn.
It’s a fascinating story and it will give you a new way to look at a skein of yarn.
The second book, “Unraveling,” by Peggy Orenstein, was published this year and is subtitled “What I learned about life while shearing sheep, dyeing wool and making the world’s ugliest sweater.”
While she covered many of the same topics Parkes did, Orenstein’s book is a personal and small-scale accounting of how she sheared a sheep, learned to spin, learned to dye and made a sweater.
I knew Orenstein mostly through her writing on adolescence, so it was fun for me to discover she’s also a knitter, and to hear about her adventures in the fiber arts.
I won’t be signing up to shear a sheep any time soon; it sounds grueling and difficult, but it was fascinating to hear about how she learned to do it.
So if you’ve always wondered what happens between the sheep and your needles, both these books will help you discover even more about your favorite fiber art.
As always, support your local library, but if you want to add these books to your personal collection, we recommend our next-door neighbors, The Bookstore of Glen Ellyn.
And for audiobook fans, Libro.fm is an independent audiobook service I just learned about that supports the local bookstore of your choice. I listened to the Orenstein book in my car and really enjoyed it.
]]>by Meg Dedolph
I’m not a big “resolution” person, but I did stop to think about a few changes I can make in my knitting life that will make the fiber arts even more fun for me.
I’m not a big “resolution” person, but I did stop to think about a few changes I can make in my knitting life that will make the fiber arts even more fun for me.
Are some of these because of some serious frogging I did at the end of 2023? Yes.
Regardless, maybe these tips will help you too.
How about you? What are you going to do to improve your fiber crafting life this year?
]]>One of the things I love about holidays is the opportunity to live a day outside the normal routine.
The holidays tick a lot of boxes: you might not be at home, you might be around people you don’t usually see, you might get to eat foods you don’t usually enjoy … and you might get some extra crocheting or knitting time.
I specifically said “no” to the usual Christmas roast dinner, because nothing brings out the Scrooge in me like putting down my cup of coffee and saying “Welp, time to get cooking!” on Christmas morning. This year, it’s spinach-and-cheese manicotti, garlic bread and a salad, with tiramisu for dessert … and half of that is getting made on Dec. 24, which means that I am planning for some quality time with yarn and needles.
I didn't do a lot of gift knitting - my only serious attempt went off the rails when I read a pattern wrong - so I don't feel compelled to make something for myself, necessarily. Some years, that's different for me, but not this one.
I have been thinking about what to knit for a while. I thought about the pleasure of finishing a stalled project. It's not the same thrill as a new cast-on, but it's a good thrill anyway.
I thought about the Distortion Fibers sock yarn from our recent trunk show that’s under the tree and how nice it might be to wear some wintry socks soon.
I thought about a couple kits I bought on trips, and how much fun it would be to start something new while reminiscing about some of the adventures our family had over the summer.
And then I thought about a friend of mine who put a lot of effort and time into making sure some kids she works with had a good Christmas. I thought about the pictures she posts from her snowy Vermont hikes, and I remembered a cowl I saw on Ravelry with twisted stitch cables, which are so much fun to knit. I think I’m going to make a decision between some Rios in Frank Ochre and some honey-colored Cosette and make sure I’ve got the right sized needle ready.
No reason I can’t bring that feel-good holiday spirit right into the new year with me.
Whatever your celebrations bring, I hope it’s great, and I hope you get to spend some time with your favorite craft. What are you all going to make?
]]>Friends, this is not looking good.
A few weeks ago, full of optimism and hope, I decided to knit my partner a sweater. We’d just gotten a new shipment of Nightshades in at the shop, and after listening to people gush about this yarn for months, I decided it was time to give it a try.
Because a sweater isn’t the kind of thing I like surprising a person with, I asked Jonathan to pick out his favorite color, which he did, and I picked out a pattern, (Herringweave, by Anne Hanson) and he liked that, so I knit a gauge swatch and I measured my husband and I cast on.
And it was going great! The yarn is a joy to knit with, the subtly textured pattern really shines, the cable keeps it fun …. I have no complaints.
The only problem is that the yarn is basically black, and our cats are basically black, and sometimes we mistake my project for a cat and start talking to it. Also sometimes the cats mistake my project for a bed, and that's also unhelpful.
I was keeping an eye on the calendar and staying on track, and then I caught a bad cold, which on one hand, is a bad cold (seriously, this thing is a doozy. Go wash your hands. Right now.) but on the other hand, meant I needed to rest by watching Netflix and knitting.
And today, just as the rookie detective inspector made a breakthrough in the series of murders plaguing London, I cast off the back of the sweater. I held it up, admired it, and decided to move on to the next step: knitting the front.
The pattern said, “Using the smaller needle, cast on….” and I realized with horror, that I had just cast off using a pretty small needle.
I read the pattern again. Cast on with the smaller needle, knit the ribbing, switch to the larger needle … where was my needle gauge? I measured needles, hoping against hope that I had switched to the larger needle.
I’m sure you see where this is going.
I did not switch to the US7 after the ribbing. I kept going with the smaller, US5. I mention this, because I think sometimes beginning knitters think that as you get more experienced, you make fewer mistakes. I am here as living proof that this is not the case. You make bigger mistakes on tighter deadlines instead.
So, 10 days before Christmas, I have, essentially, one sweater sleeve knit.
Something tells me this may be a New Year’s gift. Or maybe a Martin Luther King Day gift.
(Are you in the same boat? Check out our Scarf Market - we have lots of great crocheted, knitted and woven pieces made by our customers, and the best part? The proceeds benefit Teen Parent Connection in Glen Ellyn. Cross something off your list and help a great organization at the same time. Win-win!)
]]>My kid shoved me right out of my comfort zone the other day, on a pair of roller skates. They learned how to skate in PE class, and have been pestering me to take them to a roller rink so they could practice their newly acquired skills.
It has been, as they say, a hot minute since I’ve been on skates, and I’d like to tell you it’s like riding a bike and that it all comes back to you and that after a lap I was speeding around the polished wood just like I was 12 again.
But it was not like riding a bike.
It did not come back to me after one lap. Or even two.
I wobbled along with the little kids, arms flailing, as hoodie-wearing tweens on inline skates with flashing wheels sped past us.
I didn’t want to be a wet blanket, though, so I kept trying. I thought a lot about my balance, and where my center of gravity was - it was not where I remember it being when I was 12 - and as song after song blasted over the speakers, I kept circling the rink, lap after lap.
My kid rolled up and asked me how I was doing. I said I was concentrating and I couldn’t talk. They whizzed off, another tween in a hoodie.
But then a miracle happened. I relaxed! I could feel it getting a little easier. I didn’t flail my arms as much. I didn’t worry about plowing into the kids zipping around. I noticed how my thighs felt as they seized up, unused muscles getting an unexpected afternoon workout.
By the end of the day, when my kid asked me if I would take them skating again, I said yes.
What I learned (again) that afternoon under the spinning disco ball is that I should say “yes,” more and not be afraid of trying something new, even if I am certain I’m going to stink at it.
I’m going to give myself time and space to really work on a new thing. If I had stopped after that first wobbly lap, I wouldn’t have - a dozen laps later - glided along in a way that reminded me happily of the kid at a roller rink I had once been.
And when I fall down, I should get up and get moving again as fast as I can, because the tweens on inline skates are coming right at me.
If you are looking to take a step outside your comfort zone, consider signing up for one of our classes.
📸 Lukas Schroeder on Unsplash
Sometimes, though, it doesn't go according to plan. Sometimes I start to think that something might not be quite right, but I soldier on anyway. Because when I have the choice of knitting the wrong thing or not knitting at all, I usually choose knitting the wrong thing. And then I rip.
Here is how to avoid that folly.
.
The start of Hipster in Handspun Hope Cotton
Not everyone agrees with me, but I ALWAYS start my travel projects before I leave town. In the first rows of the project I am
I want to do those things at home, so I can easily correct mistakes or change my mind. When I settle into my seat at the airport, I want to be able to take advantage of my dedicated knitting time. As we pull out of the driveway for a long car ride, I'm ready to dig in. I don't want to realize after 15 minutes that this isn't going to work as planned. I want the thrill of uninterrupted knitting time and the inches that go along with it.
Digital patterns are convenient and easy on the environment, but for travel I want a paper copy that doesn't depend on whether my phone is charged or not. I often think I remember what I'm supposed to do. I often don't actually remember.
Circular needles are best for travel because they are harder to lose. Nevertheless, I'd bring an extra. Trust me.
I now ALWAYS use circular needles on a plane. You can imagine..... I had 3 rows of passengers and a flight attendant on their knees looking for my grey, metal needle!!!
Make sure you confirm the size before you stick it in your bag. I've knit whole sections of a project with the wrong size needle and I know I'm not the only one.
]]>
I wasn't always a knitter. I came to the fiber arts through quilting and I was drawn to quilting because I loved the idea of playing with all those beautiful colors.
So it was natural that I wanted to also experiment with colors in my knitting. I adored the look of traditional Scandinavian knitting and Scottish Fair Isle patterns, but I couldn’t get the hang of stranded knitting.
I didn’t like the way the yarns twisted up behind the work, I couldn’t get a good rhythm going between picking and throwing, and the whole endeavor left me at a loss. I loved the projects, but I hated making them.
Except the last couple of years, I’ve found myself casting on multicolor projects and I’m thrilled with them.
What happened? I’ll tell you.
Try some new techniques
Maybe launching into a steeked stranded-colorwork sweater was not the way for me to learn to love colorwork knitting. How did I realize this? It still needs a sleeve and a half - more than a decade later.
However, there are lots of ways to enjoy playing with colors and beautiful yarns that aren’t stranded knitting.
This family of garter-stitch shawls, scarves and mittens, which are based on short rows, are captivating to me right now and appeal to my love of scrappy patchwork quilts.
Two great multicolor techniques to try out are mosaic knitting, which involves only slipping stitches, knitting and purling; and helix knitting, which is a great way to make single-row stripes for in-the-round projects, such as hats, mittens or socks. The more colors you add, the more stripes you get.
All of these are fun to figure out, especially in heavier-weight yarns. Which brings me to ….
Worsted and DK weight yarns
Just because the traditional knitting of the Shetland Isles involves two-ply fingering-weight wool on similarly small needles, doesn’t mean that’s the only place to start. One of my favorite colorwork projects last year was a worsted-weight cowl done with Plied Penn Ave. and Rios.
Dip your toes in
Speaking of two-color worsted-weight cowls, small projects are a great way to see if you like a technique before you commit to a bigger project – or a smaller gauge.
Try a cowl or a pair of mittens. Do something fancy to a sock cuff or make a hat. Make a hat band and then knit the rest plain.
If you love colorwork sweaters, consider a patterned yoke sweater with a plain body. Or try a baby sweater; all the techniques in a fraction of the size.
One of the projects I first tried two-color stranded knitting on is the pumpkin hat, a terrific quick fall baby gift with just a handful of two-color rounds. (I like it in Rios, but Emily has made some great hats in Rasta, too.) No fall babies in your orbit? It's cute in red, yellow, green, pink ... any produce-section color.
I feel like smaller projects are easier for me to take risks with color on. It doesn’t feel as intimidating to experiment and that’s more fun.
Hello, “faux isle”
So, back to those gorgeous Scottish colorwork patterns, which sometimes take eight or nine carefully blended colors to achieve.
If that feels like a lot (picking out two colors can be hard enough sometimes!) what about “faux isle,” where you knit a beret or sweater yoke with a background color and a self-striping or gradient yarn for the contrast. Let some clever yarn-dyer do the hard work for you. Here's a great example from Knitty.
I’ve recently been enjoying some two-color hats with gradient and variegated yarns for contrast and I'm having a great time.
Get a couple tips
I knit by carrying my yarn in my left hand, so carrying one color in each hand wasn’t fun for me. I tried carrying two colors in my left hand, but it was hard to pick up the correct strand with my needle.
Then I tried a colorwork thimble, which makes it easier to carry two colors in my left hand and I’m much happier with my knitting technique.
The other feature of knitting with lots of colors is having lots of ends. Then I found the “Weavin’ Stephen” video on YouTube by Stephen West, and now I have a good way to weave in ends as I go.
Try some new techniques, try thicker yarns, take advantage of the gorgeous self-striping and hand-dyed yarns out there, and you too could move from a colorwork-skeptic to a color-knitting enthusiast!
]]>I was out running errands the other day and came across a store selling packages of “lunchbox notes.” They were cute - little colorful cards with riddles or funny facts or uplifting messages that you could slip in your kid’s lunchbox for a surprise.
But because my kid started high school this fall and they are taller than me and they wear bigger shoes than me, I think the prime “lunchbox notes” years are past.
However, the notes got me thinking about how a little surprise lifts the spirits. I don’t think fortune cookies would be as fun if they didn’t have that slip of paper inside, for instance.
By the time you reach adulthood, though, there aren’t a lot of surprises, and the ones you do get are often no fun. The mail brings bills more often than letters. You know what’s in your lunch bag because you put it there. The dentist gives you a toothbrush, not a chance to get a whoopee cushion from the toy chest.
That’s all too bad because surprise and mystery and unexpected delights are wonderful – and good for us.
(Nice surprises. Not a spider in the bathtub at 7 a.m.)
Tania Luna, co-author of “Surprise: Embrace the Unpredictable and Engineer the Unexpected,” says that surprise intensifies emotions - something positive and surprising is more emotional than something positive, but expected.
Surprises bring peoples’ brains directly into the present moment, Luna says, and sometimes surprises end up changing how you think about something.
Knitters like surprises too. (Again, nice surprises. Not a gauge swatch that grows an inch after you wash and block it.)
I think that’s why mystery knitalongs are popular. I also think it’s why the Box of Light is an annual hit.
We hand-pick (and hand-pack) 31 envelopes with mini skeins of yarn, notions, treats and other goodies, as well as a pattern and a needle. Many people open theirs during December, but we also have customers who save them until January. Or their birthday month. Sometimes people open the packages out of order. Or all at once. There’s no wrong way to enjoy a Box of Light.
The only thing we know is that we're all thrilled to be bringing a little fun and delight to you, and ... you'll definitely be surprised.
Order your Box of Light by midnight on September 30, 2023 - or you'll have to wait until next year!
It’s been an exciting week in the mental landscape of my knitting brain.
We went to Lansing, Mich., recently, to play for a contra dance, and of course, there was car knitting. I’m getting a little tired of the relentless 16-sock parade passing through my hands (seriously, how is it that I am finishing socks, yet no empty needles appear? I know I’m not throwing them away afterwards.)
Anyway, I pulled out a cabled scarf that I had put down for some reason, and happily knit on it for a very long time, all the way to the gig and part of the way home. It was so much fun - I loved seeing how the cables crossed and uncrossed, traveling across the scarf. The yarn is a little tweedy and it was delightful to watch the flecks of color appear.
It got me to thinking, I had also cast on a cabled sweater in a wooly blue yarn from the Hudson Valley in New York, and that sweater was stagnant. It was sitting in a bag in my living room, giving me feelings of guilt and embarrassment every time I looked at the bag.
So I spent some time thinking about why one project was wonderful and joyful and the other one was something I had not knit a stitch on in months.
I texted with a friend about it and as I typed, I realized what was going on.
I didn’t want this blue cabled sweater. I didn’t like the way the yarn looked when I knit cables with it. I like plump round yarns for cabling, (like the Misha and Puff I'm making this Badger Creek mitten from) and this is more of a two-ply handspun kind of yarn.
Instead, I scrolled through my Ravelry queue and found a plain stockinette sweater, knit in pieces and seamed, kind of oversized and cuddly - exactly the kind of sweater I see myself wearing as I walk on a Pacific Coast beach on an overcast day, looking at the waves and listening to the gulls.
The way forward was clear. The yarn is great. It was just turning into the wrong sweater. (I still want to make that cabled sweater; don’t get me wrong. Now I’m just looking for the right yarn to do it in.)
I frogged half a sleeve and six inches of cabled knitting, started a sweater sleeve (a sleeve can be a swatch, right?) and I’m loving it.
Now I just have to figure out how to get to the Oregon Coast.
When do you let go of ideas?
]]>]]>
Travel knitting isn’t complete without the right assortment of notions. I like to travel light, so I leave big knitting accessory bags at home.
Here’s my tips for the best things to bring on-the-go.
Start by going through your junk drawer to find an Altoids tin, or something of similar size. European candies come in fun tins and I’ll be honest, I have bought candy just for the pretty container it comes in. Once I bought licorice, which I don’t even like, but the tin was dark blue with a harlequin on the front and I couldn't pass it up.
Another great way to travel with notions is to find a little plastic pill box. Sometimes these are on the cheap side, so test it by opening and closing it a few times to make sure all the compartment lids work right.
Here’s what goes in it:
In each project bag, I put a photocopy of my pattern and a pen or pencil, because I don’t like digging through my bag to find something to write with on an airplane.
And that’s it. I’ve got an audiobook on my phone, my earbuds are charged, and I’m ready to hit the road.
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We’re off on a Big Family Adventure in a couple of days, and because I usually leave my personal packing to the last minute in favor of getting everyone else ready (how many of you are nodding your heads? We should all stop this, right?), I decided to plan my knitting early.
Knitting and reading are my two favorite ways to pass time while traveling. But there are so many opportunities - airports, train stations, bus stops, the actual plane ride - that it’s hard to think of the right project.
Here are my criteria:
* Small. No sweaters, no four-skein shawls. We like to travel light and carry all our own luggage. So that means two projects (OK, maybe three), and it means they have to fit in my backpack, needles and notions included.
* Something complicated. At least one project I need to pay attention to. I think it's going to be a stalled two-color brioche shawl. I love having the down time that travel affords me and the space to really dig into a juicy pattern.
* Something mindless. Brioche plus jet lag equals frogging, and there are in-flight movies, so I'm also going to bring some socks to to work on. I donated two pairs of unfinished socks in the scholarship auction at Cumberland Dance Week this summer, and I’m entertained by the idea of telling the recipients where their socks have been when I send them the finished work in the fall.
On the other hand, I’ve got some great yarn in stash and it might be fun to cast on something new to go along with new sights and experiences.
Good thing I’m starting to think about this now.
What about you? What do you like to knit on vacation?
Read this if you are wondering what notions to pack in your travel knitting bag.
Remember in Harry Potter when the avuncular headmaster Albus Dumbledore made a comment about how he liked to read knitting patterns?
He’d obviously never seen a good yarn tag.
Here are a few tips to get the most out of the information that yarn companies give us.
For such a little piece of paper, yarn tags pack a lot of information - but as always, if you have questions about whether a yarn will work for what you want to do, ask. Albus Dumbledore isn't the only wizard who likes knitting.
]]>We love making dishcloths because they are easily portable and give you a chance to practice a new stitch.
We've called this a Spa Cloth in hopes that you will pair it with a sweet-smelling soap and give it away as a gift.
It is pictured in Clean Cotton (made of recycled fibers), but will work in any DK or Worsted weight cotton.
Click here to download your free pattern.
]]>by Meg Dedolph
Not the kind with water and deck chairs, where I hope you’re spending a little time this summer, but that thing some of the more colorful variegated yarns like to do.
]]>Not the kind with water and deck chairs, where I hope you’re spending a little time this summer, but that thing some of the more colorful variegated yarns like to do.
If a yarn has long stretches of different colors, depending on the item you’re knitting, those colors may stack up in blotches across your knitted piece.
You might like the way this looks. Or you might not. Some people like an element of surprise in their knitting, and some people don’t.
But it’s helpful to know pooling when you see it so you can use it to your advantage.
Lately, some designers have been writing fun patterns for “planned pooling” yarns. All that means is, every time you reach a particular color in the skein, you work a different stitch.
While some companies sell yarns made specifically for these patterns, you can use any variegated yarn with long repeats (several inches) of different colors. Just pick the color you want to use for the accent stitch and carry on with the pattern.
Whether or not a yarn pools depends mostly on how wide your knitted or crocheted piece is. Here’s photos of the same shawl. (Pooling Party by Beth McNish) You can see how, at the narrower end, the yarn colors appear different than they do at a wider point on the shawl.
The blue and yellow make thin pinstripes when the shawl is narrower, and as it gets wider, the blue and brown stripe, and the yellow appears in larger blocks of color.
The overall effect is a big wash of three colors and it looks great, especially with the different textures from the different stitches.
If you don’t like the way the colors are stacking up in your piece, it may mean that the yarn is the wrong choice for that piece and might be better used elsewhere. The main photo for this entry, with a row of multicolored socks shows the same yarn that Beth used in her shawl - just knit up over a different number of stitches.
Sometimes combining a pooling yarn with a solid or tonal solid can mute the effects of the pooling. Here’s a shawl (Boomerangle by Nim Teasdale) that I knitted with a pooling yarn out of my stash combined with a skein of blue Malabrigo Rios. The blue breaks up the pooling and I was much happier with the result. Same with the socks below, which mixed stash yarn with Keenan fingering weight in green in a helical knitting pattern that I made up as I went along.
Other times, using the pooling yarn as the variegated yarn in a colorwork pattern makes the pooling less obvious. Here’s another example of a cowl knit with a skein of the Dream In Color planned pooling yarn, where I loved the colors, but didn't want it to pool. (Hella Flower Power, by Catherine Clark.)
So whether you love pooling yarns or not, we can help you find a way to use that colorful skein of yarn in a pattern you’ll have fun knitting.
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1. I don't like to buy yarn without a project in mind.
Unfortunately (😉) we have sample projects knit up in almost every sale yarn and plenty of ideas for those that we don't.
2. My stash is already overflowing.
Maybe it is time to prepare for next year's Stash Sale.
3. I have to finish my current project first.
I know that some of you buy yarn, make a project, finish and then buy more. I admire the discipline that this takes. However, you are going to miss out on some really good deals. I suggest instead that you buy sale yarn, clearly indicate the project it is intended for and then assign it a number in your queue. #1 the shawl for your sister, #2 the hat for your nephew, #3 the slippers for yourself...
4. I simply don't need anymore.
You are right. Some people collect yarn because its beauty brings them joy. If that isn't you, consider a friend that could use a care package or a birthday gift. Surprise a new knitter with some of the good stuff. Stock up on gifts, just because.
5. I'm not good enough yet to buy good yarn.
Sorry, don't ever let me hear you say this. No matter where you are in your knitting or crochet journey, you are absolutely good enough to knit with good yarn!
Yarn unravels and every project can be as perfect as you want it to be. Also, beautiful yarn turns the simplest projects into works of art.
Something many people say when they come into the shop, after they pick out yarn for a project, when I ask, “Do you have the right needles?” is: “Huh. I don’t know. I’m not sure. Maybe? I’ll go home and check.”
]]>Something many people say when they come into the shop, after they pick out yarn for a project, when I ask, “Do you have the right needles?” is: “Huh. I don’t know. I’m not sure. Maybe? I’ll go home and check.”
Or they add another 16-inch US6 circular to their stash.
I was chatting with a coworker about this problem, “Could we make a little laminated card people could keep in their wallets? Or a downloadable PDF? Or … is there an app?”
And she said, “You can do that on Ravelry, you know.”
Well, reader, I did not know.
And there are a lot of you that did not know, too.
Here’s how to do it:
by Meg Dedolph
Just as I periodically decide I’m going to finish projects and knit from stash, I also periodically decide that I’m going to read books I already own. I’m up to the books I bought on a family trip to Maine two summers ago, and I was delighted to find out I had accidentally bought a book about knitting.
I’m sure you’ve heard the joke that buying yarn and knitting are different hobbies, and also that buying books and reading are different hobbies.
Well, just as I periodically decide I’m going to finish projects and knit from stash, I also periodically decide that I’m going to read books I already own. I’m up to the books I bought on a family trip to Maine two summers ago, and I was delighted to find out I had accidentally bought a book about knitting.
Adam Savage, a special effects designer you might remember from the TV show “Mythbusters,” wrote “Every Tool’s a Hammer: Life is What You Make It.” While his projects are often sci-fi movie props and require epoxy and machining, and my projects … do not, he made some great points that I think makers of all sorts would appreciate.
My favorite chapter was when he talked about how he often makes the same thing over and over and over until he gets it to look exactly the way he wants it to. Sound familiar? Repetition is part of the creative process and it’s part of the learning process too. Remind yourself of this the next time you cast something on for the 17th time.
(Also, he wrote a great chapter about all the different kinds of glue and what they’re best for, and even though glue and knitting don’t mix, this is information I think everyone can use.)
The other book, which is also not really about knitting, is “This is Not A Book About Benedict Cumberbatch,” by Tabitha Carvan. It’s subtitled “The joy of loving something - anything - like your life depended on it,” and it is about women and the things they love.
It’s about being a big fan of something, or someone, and what that means to moms and wives and women generally.
Unlike Adam Savage, Carvan mentions knitting, though briefly. It’s worth thinking about, especially if you’re a woman.
She refers to another book, by Brigid Schulte, where Schulte describes the idea of “invisible leisure.”
Carvan writes: “This is what she calls the productive, socially sanctioned activities like quilting bees, canning parties, knitting circles and book groups, which are, she says, truly ‘the only kind of acceptable and industrious leisure time most women have ever known.’”
True leisure, Carvan says, has more to do with how you feel when you’re engaging in your activity.
“When it happens, pure leisure should feel like play, not work.”
So whether it’s reading, or casting on a sock for the seventh time, trying to get the cuff just right, I hope you find some moments of pure leisure this summer.
]]>Making plastic yarn is an awesome way to creatively upcycle all those plastic grocery bags you've got stuffed under your sink! There are a ton of tutorials across the internet, but here is the process I like to use to make my own plarn for crochet and knitting projects.
]]>But sometimes bringing those bags back to the grocery store isn't realistic. Or maybe you just want to do something creative to start a conversation about recycling.
Enter plarn.
Making plarn (plastic yarn) is an awesome way to creatively upcycle all those plastic grocery bags you've got stuffed under your sink! There are a ton of tutorials across the internet, but here is the process I like to use to make my own plarn for crochet and knitting projects.
1. Collect your tools. You'll need a pair of sharp scissors (I use a combination of scissors and an old rotary cutter), a ruler, and optionally, a large self-healing cutting mat. You'll also need 5-25 plastic grocery bags for most small-medium projects.
2. Lay out your grocery bag as flat as possible on a table or self-healing mat. I like the mat because the grid lines help me to keep things as even as possible, but its not vital.
3. Use your scissors to cut off the handles and uneven edges on the end of the bag.
4. Fold your bag lengthwise (like a hot dog) once, then a second time, and then a third time. You should have a long, skinny rectangle approximately 1-3" wide.
5. Next, use your ruler or the grids on your cutting mat to cut 1" thick sections of the bag. When you unfold the section, it will look like a long loop. Cut as many pieces as you can (I usually can get 12-14 loops out of a standard grocery bag).
6. Once you have a big pile of loops, you can assemble your plarn. Lay two loops on a table next to each other in a long line, then overlap the piece on the right with the piece on the left, placing the end of the right piece in between the two "legs" of the loop on the left.
7. Push the end of the right loop in between the legs of the left loop, turning it so that the end of the right loop goes all the way through the legs and back to the right. Pull the right loop all the way through - the end of the right loop will be between its own two "legs." Pull it all the way through very gently, so that the two loops are connected and there is a knot in the center.
8. Continue in the manner with as many loops as you like. I've found that one standard plastic grocery bag yields approximately 6.5 yards of 1"-thick plarn. Gauge-wise, I treat is as a bulky-weight yarn and use a size I/5.5mm crochet hook.
Once you have a good-sized ball of plarn, you can treat it as you would regular yarn but do know that plarn has very little "give" and is a bit fiddly to work with. I've found most of my plan patterns on Youtube, although there are many on Ravelry as well.
Maybe use your plarn to make a project bag to hold the many eco-friendly yarns we offer at String Theory! I'm partial to the Madelinetosh Woolcycle Sport and the gorgeously-speckled Gaia.
Have you ever made plarn? Tell us your experience in the comments!
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Pattern: Traffic Furniture by Ann Weaver
Modifications: I put in stripes and garter ridges whenever the spirit moved me.
Yarn: Manos Marina
If you’re about to embark on your first “MKAL” with us, here are a few tips to help you get the most out of your experience.
]]>Every so often we like to host these little voyages into the knitting unknown that we call “Mystery Knitalongs.” They might be for socks, they might be for something else, but no matter what it is, we want it to be interesting and challenging for the knitters who join us.
If you’re about to embark on your first “MKAL” with us, here are a few tips to help you get the most out of your experience.
Think about joining us for a mystery knitalong one of these days - and we guarantee you'll stretch your knitting brain.
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Groundhog Day had me thinking about my father’s battles with woodchucks in our garden every summer. He started with an electric fence. Then he would watch for the furry critters from our deck and shout and whistle to scare them away. He even threatened to start shooting them - an empty threat in 1980s suburbia.
Then one year, when my dad decided to plant muskmelons, easily his favorite summer garden treat, the woodchuck went too far. The animal tunneled under the fence and emerged in the middle of my father’s melon patch, which was growing like gangbusters.
Concealing his front door amid the leafy greenery, the woodchuck spent an afternoon taking one bite out of every melon ripening on the vines.
My dad was livid, but not because the woodchuck ate his melons. Groundhogs gotta groundhog, as the saying goes. It’s the way of nature: my father planted a garden and the groundhog dined on it all summer long.
Instead, my dad was furious because the woodchuck ruined all the melons rather than just eating one entire fruit.
I was knitting like a woodchuck during 2022, which is why, as I was looking through my knitting basket, I discovered that I had somehow started - but not finished - eight pairs of socks.
That’s right.
I had 16 socks going at once.
My friend Barb said she was amazed I had so many needles when I texted to share this discovery.
Not so, I said. What I seemed to have done was started a pair of socks, got … bored? Tired? Distracted? … and then slid the stitches onto a set of DPNs, where I either continued to knit them (using my least favorite technique for knitting in the round, which is some kind of dedication), or stuffed them in a project bag and forgot about them.
In a new year, this will not do.
So unlike that woodchuck and its melons, I have spent two weeks going back into project bags and finishing socks. I even made a little chart in a notebook where I can mark off my milestones as I finish knitting 16 socks.
(Pro tip: Divide big projects into smaller chunks. Crossing off a little step gives your brain a little feel-good kick and keeps you motivated. Works for stuff that isn’t knitting, too.)
I’m down to eight socks. Wish me luck.
]]>Last week, I went into the city to call a contra dance.
There were a handful of enthusiasts who have been dancing for a long time and like to come out every time there’s a dance on. There were a lot of folks who have been dancing for a little while – this series has lots of young people who like to come – and there were a lot of people who had never done this before.
AKA, the bravest people in the room.
I was thinking about what to tell these folks during the introductory lesson I teach, and it always comes down to some variation on this message: Thank you for being brave enough to be bad at something new.
(I admit, I got that off an inspirational poster I saw on Instagram.)
It’s hard to find a way to tell someone that I don’t expect them to be any good at what I’m teaching them to do because nobody is any good when they try something for the first time. It’s one of those truths that sounds like an insult.
It’s especially hard to tell adults this, because we all have an idea for the kinds of activities we’re going to be successful at and it’s hard to get people to do something they think they're going to be bad at for a long time. I feel certain I could learn to weave on a loom; I am confident I would be no good in an adult basketball league.
(Interesting aside: I rarely have to say something like this to kids. They are better than adults at trying something new with no attachment to the outcome.)
But imagine the freedom if you know nobody in the room expects you to be good at this thing you're trying. Nobody's going to judge you for the questions you ask, or how fast you learn as long as you're trying.
And once you get that down?
What if you had the same expectations for yourself? What would you try if you weren't afraid of failing?
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by Meg Dedolph
Knitting is relaxing, except when it isn't, and that's good too.
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Turns out there are some non-fiber-crafting domestic partners out there who see their beloved knitter or crocheter, hunched over on the sofa, muttering to themselves and flipping back and forth between pattern pages and YouTube videos and ask – often with terrible timing – isn’t this hobby supposed to be relaxing?
This is where I remind everyone - because I like to watch British murder mysteries while I knit - it is not relaxing to dispose of a body.
Sometimes knitting is relaxing, usually in comparison to what was happening just beforehand. Driving in Chicago traffic for an hour? Yes, a few rounds of a sock takes the edge off. A busy day at work? Absolutely, I would like to drink a cup of tea and knit for a little while. Am I a talking hedgehog who lives in a mushroom-shaped cottage? I guess so, with all the tea and sock-knitting going on.
But what you do in your spare time doesn’t always have to be so simple you can zone out while you do it. Sometimes, the point of doing something for fun is to learn something new, or try something you’ve never done before. Crocheting and knitting is good for that - there’s always a new technique you can master, or a new challenging project to try out.
Some leisure activities are passive and don’t take much brain energy, said the talking hedgehog who just rewatched “Bridgerton.” And some leisure activities demand a little more attention. Sometimes it’s the same activity, just practiced differently.
So don’t fret if you find your project is temporarily causing you more stress than it relieves. Think of it as a good brain stretch.
And I hope some of you will join me this summer while I hang out at the local golf course and ask all the unhappy golfers, “I thought golf was just a reason to get out in the sunshine? Isn’t it supposed to be relaxing?”
Bring your knitting; we’ll have a great time.
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Do you have teacher gifts looming on your personal holiday horizon? We have answers for you, no matter what you decide to give.
Plan ahead, make the kids help, and you’ll be winter-break ready in no time with our five ideas.
1. Let’s start with the easy one. Outsource the labor to the kids with a potholder loom. Add a bag of baked goodies and a wooden spoon, or a box of your favorite quick bread or muffin mix.
2. Thinking relaxation? How about a Spa cloth/ washcloth and some organic soap.
3. How about a hot beverage? Pick out a ball of Re-Jeans, a reclaimed cotton yarn and crochet a coaster or two, or knit some in linen stitch. Add a fun mug - ceramic or insulated - and a few packets of hot cocoa, some teabags or a gift card to a coffee shop. (Speaking of linen stitch, working it over 15 stitches in leftover fingering weight yarn makes nice bookmarks.)
4. How about the classic gift card? Dress it up in a cabled cardigan or a crocheted snowman.
5. Finally, is your favorite teacher knitworthy?
Check out our Done by December patterns for some quick knits. If your school assigns staff to help direct traffic outside, The World’s Simplest Mittens, by Tin Can Knits come with directions for different weights of yarn from lots-of-time-DK to panicking-now-chunky.
Maize is another great pattern that can be made as fingerless mitts or mittens, because no matter what the holidays look like for you and your family -- we all know winter is coming.
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Friends, it’s the home stretch. No sooner are we going to finish loading the dishwasher on Thanksgiving night than the final Gift Making Sprint begins. We're not lining up for bargain TVs on Black Friday; we're casting on.
It’s the 500-yard dash (sometimes literally) of knitting and crocheting, as we all do our best to finish - or start - a little something for someone who’s proven themselves worthy of a handmade item in the last year.
I am a human being who makes things, so I too am in this crowded boat. Here’s some tips.
1. Malabrigo Rasta. Ikigai Chibi Paki. Or any of its other bulky/ chunky neighbors.
Big yarn = faster knits. It doesn’t hurt that it comes in beautiful colors and is so soft you’ll want to use it to blot your tears as you try to make a pair of fingerless gloves in 20 minutes.
Here’s some fast patterns we love:
For someone’s head: https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/perky-little-hat
For someone’s hands: https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/quick-bulky-mitten
For someone’s neck: https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/sidewinder-cowl-2
Put on a holiday movie, cast on and you’ll be done by the time the Type-A big city lawyer marries the handsome maple syrup farmer in her small Vermont hometown that she hasn’t visited since she left the day after high school graduation.
2. "Handmade" means that somebody's hands made it. They don't have to be your hands. Check out our Scarf Market, which continues through December 24, for a beautiful selection of handmade scarves, cowls and shawls. Our customers made and donated these pieces, and this year, we are selling them in support of Broadway Youth Center, which helps LGBTQ+ youth.
3. Good intentions. Look, sometimes it just doesn’t work out. We can show you easy patterns and big yarn, but we still haven’t figured out how to wind up three extra days or make a mini-skein out of five hours.
If you love someone enough to make them something in December, you’re going to love them enough to do it in January when all this busy-ness has calmed down and you’re not running around like your hair is on fire.
Wrap up the yarn, add a photo of the finished object or a copy of the pattern, and as soon as they open it, exclaim over the beautiful color and the softness of the yarn - take it back and explain that they’ll get it by the end of January.
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The planters in front of 477 and 473 aren't just beautiful- they're functional!
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The planters in front of 477 and 473 aren't just beautiful- they're functional!
Emily chose the plants and flowers because they can all be used as natural dyes. Here are just a few of the beautiful plants we have on display, with descriptions from the amazing book "The Modern Natural Dyer" by Kristine Vejar. Her book is the perfect resource for anyone who wants to try natural dying. She includes detailed information as well as projects for all levels of expertise, as well as knitting and sewing patterns that are paired with dying instructions and suggestions.
Coreopsis: Golden yellow or rust color
Marigold: Yellow, gold, and chartreuse
Japanese Indigo: Turquoise, light blue, green
Yarrow: Warm ivory or buttery yellow
Rhubarb Root: A range of colors from saffron yellow to sherbet orange
Interested in learning more? Check out Emily's video, where she talks about the plants and dying process, and of course, come see our garden in person!
]]>Socks are my traveling friends. Need something to do during a boring meeting? I knit a sock. Car trip? I knit a sock. Hanging out with friends? I knit a sock.
Therefore, it is no exaggeration to say that if there is a way to knit a sock, I’ve probably tried it. Or I’m going to.
My favorite method is top down, two 16-inch circulars.
However, I learned to knit socks on DPNs and sometimes use Magic Loop for sweater sleeves, mittens and hats, because we contain multitudes and it’s helpful to know a couple ways to knit a thing.
If you feel like trying something new, here’s a roundup of some of the most common ways to knit socks and other tubes, collected from an informal survey of STYC employees.
DPNs: The old-school go-to for knitting-in-the-round, double-pointed-needles are easy to find, inexpensive and adaptable for whatever size tube you might want to knit. I like them for making I-cord. Beth loves the rhythm of working with DPNs and the speed of not having to manipulate circular needle cables. Stranded colorwork is easy – just flatten your needles to avoid stretching floats.
Her rule of thumb is simple: If the tube is less than 16 inches in diameter, she puts it on DPNs. If it’s more than 16 inches, she puts it on a circular needle.
Although Beth says she has only ever lost one DPN, I … have lost more than that, usually under car and airplane seats. I also tend to drop more stitches off the ends of DPNs, but I never use a DPN keeper, so perhaps there’s a connection.
Magic Loop: One long circular needle knits all sizes of tubes. Just get one with a lot of room on the cable, because you’ll need it. The simplicity can’t be beat. Emily is a huge fan - she uses it for everything - because you need fewer needles, you don’t drop stitches and you don’t need as many stitch markers.
On the other hand, she says sometimes colorwork floats are awkward when they line up with the “loop” of Magic Loop, and sock heels sometimes need more consideration because very few patterns give Magic Loop directions.
Some of us are Magic-Loop-sometimes. Liz uses it for sweater sleeves and tried it on a hat once. But regardless of how often you use it, get needles with the most flexible cables you can - that makes your Magic Looping painless and fun.
Two circulars: This is my favorite way to knit socks. It’s easy to keep my instep and heel stitches straight, and I like being able to knit half the stitches before switching to the other needle. I don’t lose them under car seats and I have never gotten confused and pulled a needle out, leaving my live stitches hanging. (Looking at you, DPNs.) I find the first half-inch of a sock easiest to make using this method.
On the other hand, you need two needles of the same length and size, and Magic Loop proponents often say, well, why not just use one needle?
FlexiFlips: Izzy loves FlexiFlips for sock-knitting. They’re flexible, like circular needles, but short, like DPNs. You only need a set of three to knit in the round, compared to four or five DPNs.
The unexpected bonus?
“If you hypothetically lost one of your FlexiFlips, you can buy another set and knit two socks at once and use the third needle for both of them,” Izzy said. “Not like that happened to me or anything.”
For those of us who aren’t FlexiFlip converts, it’s mostly because the needle shafts are short and don’t feel comfortable in our hands.
Where do you fall? Team DPN? Magic-Loop-Forever? Somewhere in the middle? Let us know in the comments!
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