The Metaphor Scarf and Other Projects

So, I started knitting this shortly after baby was born. I saw this pattern on the Purl Bee and thought it looked pretty achievable. A really nice effect with minimum thought or effort.

I didn't bother buying the recommended yarn - I had a ball left over from something else that I thought would work, so I just got stuck in. And in between changing nappies and waking up all night and rocking a screaming baby and feeling sore, I knitted a row here and a row there.

And as I did so, I thought to myself how nice it was to do something that I could see growing and that would be finished, in the midst of this new crazy hamster wheel of a parenting life.

It will be a lovely metaphor I thought, a physical enactment of the effort I have been putting in every minute every day with this new life. Something I can hold and use, that shows how all those little stitches make something big and whole.

Hmmm. So I came to the end of the ball of yarn, and realised there was no more, and realised it was really rather short (as in you couldn't wrap it round your neck in any way which would stay on), and also rather stiff and scratchy due to using the wrong yarn!

I stitched the ends up to make a loop - the only way to make it wearable, albeit slightly peculiar. And now, instead of making me think of the hard slog of those early days and how I worked so hard and am achieving things however much it sometimes doesn't feel like it, it just makes me think of how doing knitting projects with (not enough of) the wrong yarn, the wrong needles and no preparation results in something a bit disappointing. Not such a lovely metaphor!

Having said all that, it obviously didn't teach me its lesson as I am currently embarked on another project with the wrong needles and the wrong yarn. When you have leftover stuff to use up and you want to start something NOW its just too tempting. I'm hoping I can estimate/bodge the adjustments I need to make to make it the right size. We'll see...

The other thing about that scarf though was that I decided I had to finish that before moving onto any other project. I have a list of projects I want to do - things like clearing out my wardrobe and putting photos in albums as well as things I'd like to make. This approach has been very succesful so far. I'm an excellent planner, a relatively good starter and a terrible finisher of things. Making myself do one thing at a time has been a very good discipline for me. After the scarf I got stuck into filing of important documents and papers, and have just finished that. Finished something! The feeling is quite unusual. (Whether this kind of efficiency continues is another matter... )

Tiny shoes for tiny feet

Finishing the mittens kickstarted me into a little knitting surge over the last weekend. I finished these two pairs in about four days I think. Hooray for small things! They're both from Blankets, Bears and Bootees by Debbie Bliss .

These are my favourites. I had a bit of an issue with the pattern and had to change it a bit as I just couldn't work out how it worked as it was written, but happy with the end product. They remind me of mini ugg boots (in my household, having an Australian mum, uggs are not fashion statements but just the most practical and comfy slipper/houseshoe. We used to be terribly embarrassed when Mum wore hers outside and thought it hilarious when they suddenly got all trendy and our Mum had led Kate Moss et al by years!!!)

They're done in a merino-cashmere-acrylic mix, which is lovely and soft, and more importantly, machine-washable. Part of a stash I've been trying to use up for ages, so good to have little projects to just use the odd half ball.

These are cute too, and slightly easier, although they seem to be designed for very fat feet! I had a problem with this pattern too - there was an obvious mistake in the number of stitches at one point. Knitted in some Jaeger cashmerino I had left over from a sale purchase I meant to use for something ages ago and never did, so again good to use some of that up.

So, I'm sure there are a whole host of practical things I've forgotten to get in for when baby decides to make an appearance, but at least it'll have stylishly warm little feet!

I finished the mittens!

I finally finished something I started knitting! (see this post for the whole sorry story...)

On the plus side, they look like mittens, and they fit. However, I'm a bit disappointed with my douple pointed needle skills. On the first one, I was knitting into the back of the stitch on the corners, as I'd read that made for a tighter join. But you can see on this photo that it gives a bit of a weird wiggly line where I've done that.

So, on the second I just knit it all normally, but the join on this one is a big line of loose stitches like train tracks. Possibly this is because I did them in bamboo, which stretches out a bit more on my hand than the last pair I knitted, I think in a cashmerino yarn.

Any knitters out there have any tips?!?!

So, not sure they're present-worthy, but they will at least come in handy come winter. I wore the last pair I knitted all last winter, but they were done in a yucky mint colour, just as a prototype and then got hidden in a cupboard somewhere and emerged a little bit moth-eaten, so they have holes. Nevertheless, they were so cosy and cocoon-like for my fingers; much more satisfying than the cheapo gloves I have.

The world's slowest knitter

That would be me.

I love poring over knitting books and making elaborate plans for what I will knit in which colours. But then it comes down to the actual accummulating of stitches on needles, and things never quite run like I plan.

Right now I'm completely stuck with two sorry projects...

Exhibit 1. The bamboo mitten

Back in January, I thought to myself that I wouldn't be unrealistic and plan to make birthday presents throughout the year, but instead I'd get a headstart on Christmas. If I 'whipped up' a few pairs of mittens and a couple of scarves, I thought, I'll have them tucked away in a cupboard by summer and be feeling very smug with a homemade present stash come December...

Ah, some things we never learn. Like how very uncommitted to projects I can be. I've had this mitten on the needles for goodness knows how long. I LOVE the bamboo yarn - it's silky and soft and a fabulous colour. But give it just a little room and it'll tangle itself up into an ungodly mess. And now I'm stuck with the world's biggest knot, and only a few rows to go... Untangling can be somewhat relaxing, but it's a slow process. At this rate, some lucky person will be bemusedly receiving one lonely thumbless mitten on Christmas day!

And on to

Exhibit 2. The lacy sock-yarn cardigan

Now I can't even remember when I started this. I have a blurry memory of doing the edging on the eurotunnel train and I last went over to France that way years ago. decades. centuries.

This yarn is quite possibly jinxed. I knitted it into a vest first of all, but found out on sewing up that the armholes were too small for anyone who ate or was older than 5. So I frogged it all and decided to put it to use in a lacy cardigan pattern from Kim Hargreaves' Breeze book.

The lacework border took FOREVER, so once I was through with that, however ambivalent I was feeling about the design, I had to go on and see it through because there was no way I wasn't putting the endless border to use.

So, I did the back - ever so slowly - then I gathered pace and finished the left front in a week or two.

I tacked it together and at this stage disaster struck. I hadn't measured properly. It was made for a midget. Armhole problems again, and I'm not sure I know anyone who'd willingly sport a cropped-to-the-navel lacy cardigan...

So, now I just look at it and sigh. What do I do? Finish it and find a small child to bequeath it to? Finish it and stretch it defiantly on, just for the sake of it. Unknit?!?!? Try and improvise some kind of shoulder extension (I'm pretty sure I'm not technically up to this option)...

I don't know. Maybe it's time to go back to chunky scarves...

More elementary sewing

I'm really not a very good sewer. (Is that a word? As in one who sews, not the thing that transports sewage...) I get impatient with all the measuring and pressing, which really seems to be the most important part, and then I get on the machine, and it feels a little like trying to control a wayward puppy - everything just bouncing along towards the end helter skelter. My lines are rarely straight.

There's a little part of me that thinks I ought to just quietly lay the sewing ideas aside and concentrate on getting better at the things I can do. But then I really really yearn to be not just a competent sewer, but a good one, one who can make myself dresses just how I want them and create clothes that will fit and last (in my dreams, I can whip up beauties such as this from the very desirable Sarah Seven shop on Etsy...). Absurdly unrealistic as that may be, I find myself slowly persevering at my most basic skills, hoping somehow some super sewing skills will unexpectedly blossom.

So, I got down to cushion covers the other weekend. I'd found some lovely patterned linen from the Cloth House (thanks for the tip on that to London Zest) and I had a book from the library. It instructed me to cut two pieces of cloth - one a square with sides equal to my cushion plus 3 cm, and one the same but with an extra 15 cm on the width. The larger was cut in half and the two halves got one hem each. These then get put overlapping, right sides together on the square, and the lot is sewn together. As Alexander the Meerkat would say, seemples.

Except for when you get a bit lackadaisical with the cutting out and end up with not quite a square... I learned my lesson and recut.

And finally... corners snipped, cover turned inside out, hems pressed and cushion inserted, it actually looked pretty decent and I felt quite proud to have made something I can actually use. Not quite a master seamstress but not bad for now.

A treasure trove...

So this imaginary café, I'd like it to be a place you can buy nice bits and bobs, as well as be nourished with yummy wholesome food. There's a lovely little place round the corner from us in Kentish Town, MAP studio and café, which was shut for refurbishment last time I looked sadly, but they sold a whole range of pottery there, which they also served the food and drinks in (see photo, left, from their website). I really liked the look of it and the fact you could read about its maker and browse it there. (I can't remember the name of the collection for the life of me though!)

I also like Frevd in Covent Garden, with its ever changing art displays you can purchase. It makes the place interesting, and I like the idea of being able to take home something you fall in love with whilst eating a toasted sandwich (at which Frevd are rather good; see also their milkshakes and evening cocktails).


So, I envisage my café with art works on the wall, and little displays in nooks and crannies; just a few interesting bits and pieces you can buy. Probably quite present-suitable stuff; pottery, jewellery, accessories, kitchen items, small home furnishing type items. And from local independent creators.

I'm rambling... the point is, that all this musing was inspired by being on Etsy today, browsing through lovely handmade things, looking for things to put in the present cupboard*. So I thought I'd share my favourite picks today - the kinds of things I think would be absolutely super in the imaginary café:


From left to right:

Rosebud necklace by Calexandra, who also has lovely hairclips and brooches
Wool necklaces by Kjoo
Seahorse vase by oneblackbird

I always find Etsy incredibly difficult to browse, tending instead to come across good finds through blogs; if you've found anything lovely recently I'd love to know; please do tell!...

* my attempt to mitigate my terrible habit of never getting people birthday presents on time because I can't find the 'perfect' thing; I snap up lovely things as soon as I see them, then see if there's anything in there that's suitable when it comes to birthdays. It's a new initiative so yet to see if it really works...

Woo! I made something I can wear.

So, the weekend just gone, I finally got round to hemming the A-line skirt I made in the Make Lounge workshop I posted about a little while ago. Miraculously it fits snugly around emerging bump and managed to withstand a day at work. 100% cotton fabric is very creasable though and could do with a lining. Still, feel quite impressed that I finally managed to sew something passable. Now, I need to maintain my budding sewing skills and find a new project to start on...

The Make Lounge

So, yesterday evening I spent three hours tussling with zipper foots, interfacing, unruly zigzag stitching and a whole host of other sewing vocabulary that previously read like a foreign language to me.

I was, with 9 other women, attending the second part of an A-line skirt workshop at the Make Lounge in Islington. The concept is social, short workshops on all things crafty in a friendly and stylish atmosphere.

I bought a second-hand sewing machine last year, and leapt into trying to sew without any real idea of what I was doing. Unsurprisingly my attempts were a little disappointing, to say the least. The Make Lounge appealed because it only required a one or two week commitment rather than the longer courses that I'd found at local colleges or sewing shops. The idea of nibbling and drinking while you learnt also appealed to me, so I signed up first for a cushion cover workshop.

That was pretty good. It turned out that the proffered snacks only extended to tea, warm Pinot Grigio and those little packets of biscuits you get in hotels, but we learned a lot, and I loved being able to take home something complete (and quite cute, if I say so myself) at the end of it.

This time - the A line skirt workshop - the sewing stepped up a notch, and I found a little streak of sewing rage emerging (not surprising given the tube rage, road rage, not-winning-at-board-games rage, people-who-don't-say-thankyou-when-you-hold-the-door-open rage, and various other afflictions I suffer). First of all my fabric was too light, and the zigzags wouldn't work. Then I found I hadn't got the right type of zip and I had to rip it all out and re-sew.

I started to feel a little bit like I was back in Mrs White's textiles class, circa 1995. Albeit, a textiles class with Lily Allen on the ipod, the aforementioned white wine, and a much lovelier teacher than Mrs White ever was. (Do they still do 'Textiles' at school btw? Ridiculous name really - I didn't learn anything about textiles, just how to do some dodgy batik and tie die).

However, when I finally got to take home an (almost!) finished skirt I did start to feel a small sense of accomplishment. My aim in taking the course was to equip myself to be able to read a simple pattern and to sew - properly - by myself. I think now I should be able to make something very simple to a decent standard.

So, rubbish snacks, nice environment (though pretty cramped!), nice teacher, ok teaching, pretty expensive, all-in-all though a worthwhile use of three hours and a good concept.

They've recently also expanded the little shop that fronts the workshop space, which is full of terribly trendy embroidery patterns and sewing books. They could do with adding a nice little café; somewhere people could stop by in the day and grab a juice and a flapjack after they've browsed books or patterns, or where they could get hot drinks and snacks from during or before doing a workshop. It would be full of people stitching, knitting, planning, discussing craft projects. Could be pretty nice.

I would love to have some kind of workshop space attached to the imaginary café. Or just to use the space after hours for classes, courses, clubs. Sewing requires a huge amount of equipment and materials, but there would be other easier things peripatetic teachers could use the place for. It would be nice.

See more Make Lounge workshops here: http://www.themakelounge.com/workshops

Picture from Make Lounge website, as above