The Year of the Sock Q1

 

Turns out, after all that, I have like nothing to say about these.

Left to right, patterns are Heinz, Fibonacci, none, none none. Yarns are miscellaneous stash, ranging from SWM/Nylon, MCN, Wool/Nylon, Merino/Nylon/Silk, Cotton/Wool/Nylon

4 of these are ostensibly for my feet, and the one enormous pair on the far left is for my partner.

My favorite pair to knit is probably a tie between the middle pair, and the green/black Fibonacci pair. My most worn pair thus far is the Kroy FX pair on the far right. They are the thickest as well, and when I made them I used up all of the yarn. 

In construction terms, 3 of them are top down: Heinz, Fibonacci, and the blue/orange/green striped pair. They use, in order, a heel flap & gusset (x2) and a strong heel.

The remaining pairs are toe up using, in order, a short row heel with gusset, and a heel flap and gusset. I spent some time experimenting with placement of the reinforcing stitch for the pairs on the far right, the three on the left totally lack reinforcing stitch. It's an interesting selection of socks and techniques, but the only thing it can tell me is what I personally prefer.

My toes are not long, so the wedge toes that start/end wider fit me better. I like a star toe with extra gores and that obfuscate the spiraling decreases/increases. And my insteps are high enough to absorb quite a lot of extra gusset fabric before bagging out. I think in the next three months, I'll be continuing to experiment with toes and heels, and gussets. And if my partner is lucky, maybe one in five pairs can continue to be for them.

Oops All Cast-On

 So I really want to pluralize cast-on as cast-ons, but I'm fairly certain it should be casts-on and I don't like that either. Sometimes the frenchified english grammar rules we have really don't sound right.

That's why I'm pretending it's more like moose/moose, one cast-on, multiple projects cast-on, yeah?

Either way, I did indeed finish my Heinz socks and immediately get the Necker pair on the needles. And my rebellion cast on is the Aethercopter by Jocelyn Tunney. It's another handful of balls from my "pending pile" bucket and it has the side benefit of being just a lovely color and perfectly suited for a friend. Tomorrow or Saturday, I'll get a first quarter round-up post written about the whole, Year of the Socks thing, and how many pairs I managed to complete in Jan-March. But for today, I'm weaving in some ends, looking at my WIPs, and planning my focus projects starting in April. 

I've got the second sleeve on my sweater for V, this lovely scarf I just cast on, (of course more socks) and preparing for the Romi Hill MKAL that begins in April. I've got my yarn choices to wind, or maybe supplement, anything is possible. I've also got to get gearing up for my very own pattern release and test knit of a mitten pattern I'm calling Hare Tracks. And a draft of a headband pattern that I have about 5 samples done on.

My first love is knitting other designers' work, and I think writing patterns is a bit like writing everything else. I want to be a good knitter, a good reader, and a good writer. So I find myself putting the less fun parts of designing on the back burner... the writing, the polishing, the publishing, the testing. Anyway, one of my goals for April is to get those two patterns ready to publish.

The Year of the Sock, the Rules

 The end of March is probably the best time to go ahead and explain what I meant when I decided this was the year of the sock.

It's pretty simple, I have an extant copy of Op-Art Socks by Stephanie Van Der Linden, written for generally, the 2 circulars sock knitting method, and I have a lot of self-patterning sock yarn. I also have essentially 2 long circulars for sock knitting. So on one of my long circulars, I've got a magic loop Op-Art sock pattern going, and on the other I've got a vanilla sock going. The circles of socks. It's pretty tidy.

I was using my DPNs for my on-the-go vanilla socks before I realized how stupid that was (missing needles anyone?) and went ahead and used magic loop for those too.

After yesterday's finish, I pulled another ball off The Pile and went with a moccasin toe.

I thought it might be fun to have the stripes be a bit morphed on the toe to look vertical in the center, and resolve into horizontal stripes as the sock grows. Hence the moccasin toe. 

And when I finish Heinz, I'll likewise cast on my next pair from the book immediately. I'm thinking Necker to continue my little sequence through the book. 

So far I'm knitting more vanilla socks than I am of the highly patterned socks by Van der Linden, which I think is only to be expected. But who's crying about it, the more socks, the merrier my sock drawer.

Sisters, not twins

This pair, is not identical. I don't make too much effort to have identical self-striping socks, if I'm being honest, they almost always appear to match to the casual observer. When you take the little tubies and put them on your real, meaty legs, there's shoes and possibly pants involved. Maybe some walking and other activities...people are only really getting glimpses of the socks in question. They have the same colors and apparently the same stripes, nobody's going to question.

But this pair has a little history, so this pair matches even less than normal.

I try to live in the reality where seasons of life come and go and accept it. Might even say radical acceptance of it, if that phrase didn't make me grit my teeth so hard. In the season of life where I originally cast on the first sock of this pair, my family of origin loved me and valued me for myself and my skills. And to that end, when someone lamented the lack of handknit cotton socks, I thought...I could do that.

She wanted me to show her how I made them, and I did, even though I knew she wouldn't remember. She had clear signs of memory loss then, and it's bittersweet how clearly I remember trying desperately to get anyone to listen to me about the changes happening for her. 

But I made that sock and I have carried it with me, made to fit another person's foot. 

In this season of life, I've been rather materially abandoned by my family of origin. There are a lot of reasons, but much of it is wrapped up in inter-generational trauma, that old chestnut. 

I thought about making the second sock exactly the same and mailing it out, without a return address. Maybe that would be a fitting send-off to this small leftover from the tie we shared. But then what, there's no metaphor there that suits me. There's a lot of little bits I carry around from the ties that I thought bound me to people that loved me. Shall I cast them off? 

Anyway, I ripped the sock back to where I started the heel and decided to add a bit more length, and turn the heel again. But it was too short still. So I ripped again, and knit again. And ripped again, and knit again. I think I still made it a little too short for myself, but it fits alright and I'll wear the pair. 

The reason they don't match is that when I made the new version to suit myself, it needed more yarn, so I've got an extra join and a misplaced stripe in one of the socks. It's okay, growth needs a bit of room and a bit of misplaced stuff, right? At the end of the day I'll be visibly a bit worn and mended, but still fitting, still made to be what I need for myself, and for my family by choice. I don't know, perhaps it is a bit forced to find all this symbolized in a pair of silly striped socks, but I felt some of it leave me while I was knitting these. All the mess and rejection knit into the stitches and less tangled into my own brain.

Things Change

 

I never really got "on board" for any mystery knit-along before the past calendar year. There are a few reasons but many of them are about being picky with a result, and a few unfortunate brushes with a lack of tech editing (or missed mistakes in a test knit type of thing). But over the past couple of years, I've really gotten to where I enjoy a good mystery.

One of the reasons is the community. I'm not a particularly great community member, but the last few years have been hell on connection for a lot of us. And even if not specific or directed at me, I get a nice little boost from the parasocial aspects of an MKAL. Like, browsing a hashtag or a forum post reminds me that "here are all these people" and we're all knitting the same stitches. 

Romi is promoting this year's MKAL shawl and I think I probably will jump on board again, and choose one of the above combinations out of my stash. Just a little update x.

But will it fit?

 

Yep! 

It's tough to measure a tiny one, and it's tough to measure someone long distance, or verify that they are measuring themselves correctly. It's tough to talk about ease and fit with people who don't craft. The best thing in the world is to find a top they already like, and measure it flat. Knitting is stretchy, it doesn't have to be exact.

I believe it was Dita Von Teese who said that when she worked at a makeup counter, she would take off a customer's makeup and do it all over again, the exact same way, but with the products she was trying to sell. If giving a gift is an act of love for another person, I think one of the best ways to go about it is to take a little lesson from Dita. Find the thing they already love, and give them your best version of it.

The most critical things to take note of are shoulder width, bust width, torso shape, hem length, and sleeve length. Every person I know will wear something not quite right if it fits exactly how they like. 

Just considering mutiny

 

I identified why my rebellion struck suddenly, with such force. It's the pile. This basket is typically a smaller subset of things and is generally intended to be the things I want to knit next, or the yarn I'm pondering, etc. But what had happened was... I combined it with another identically purposed pile in the name of organization of my crap. And it somehow doubled in size when I did that. There's some WIPs in there, some leftovers, some frogged yarns, some kits, and some "this one next"s. And it's just too damn big.

So my brain that works underneath my other brain decided to cast on this sweater for V as a way to shrink the volume, at least I believe so after some delicate inquiries. Three skeins of bulky weight do take up a bit more room than a single skein of sock yarn, after all.

And as luck would have it, I'm about ready to tackle the sleeves with my last full ball of this yarn. It'll all work out perfectly. Probably.

It's not January

 I didn't start this blog for the New Year or any other specific milestone, I did it because I like to talk to much. The problem is that now there's no context for what I did today, and providing context is extremely boring.

In January I decided that this year I would knit up all of my beautiful self-patterning sock yarn and declared it the year of the sock. In fact, I would keep two pairs of socks going at all times this year, one from my self-patterning stash, and one from the gorgeous Op-Art Socks by Stephanie Van der Linden. In fact, I would knit so many socks that I would fill my sock drawer. In fact, everyone I know would get a pair of socks in their stocking for Christmas in 2023. In fact, I'm fucking delusional.

Anyway, I finally cracked today. After 3.5 pairs of socks, I cast on a sweater that I want to knit right the fuck now. Screw the socks. Eat shit, socks.

Adapting from Heidi Kirrmaier's Simple Summer Tweed Top Down V-Neck:

I measured a shirt that fits my recipient a bit on the larger side and measured the back of the neck opening: 6"

Then I measured across the body width: 12.5"

And length from collar to armpit: 6.5"

Then I dug up my swatch from last Christmas when the bulk of this yarn became a sweater for someone else" 16sts and 23 rows in 4" 

and did a bit of math. 

Everything should work out but I did all the math in my head with a lot of attitude so who knows. I assume, with great hubris, I'll be able to tackle whatever comes up.

Cast on 24 sts, purl the WS dividing sts as foll: 1,2,18,2,1

Work raglan inc every 2nd row beg on first RS row using kfb

Work V-neck inc every 2nd row beg on 3rd row in tot. using RLI and LLI

Using this pattern of increases, everything should wind up with the correct stitch count within 7" of yoke length. And I should be able to join the V-neck at about halfway through, when the front and back stitch counts match with 36 sts.

I like to knit, I like to read, and I don't go outside enough.

 I've been feeling like I'm running out of time lately.

For what, I have yet to discern. 

Anyway, I have a bit too much to say for a normal person to say to their friends all the time. Too much about books, too much about knitting and fiber arts, and too much about little random bits I scrape up out of my brain. 

If you like reading, but thinking while you do it. Knitting, and perfecting a process or shape, healing working models and practicing secure attachment, stick around. I will update inconsistently and with too much nostalgia for the year 2002.

Amanda