Are the Myrtles blooming in New York yet?

I'm on the road this week--off to NYC for a symposium--and no trip would be complete without a little bit of knitting-related shopping. I'm hoping to hit at least one of the following favorite spots while I'm in town...

School Products Co. ("The Oldest Yarn Store in Manhattan"--I'm going to try to resist buying an entire pound of their laceweight silk.)
Tender Buttons (Mind-blowing--and budget-busting--selection of vintage, imported, and otherwise incredibly special buttons...I dropped a bundle last time I was there, so will enter with care!)
The Habu showroom (I took a class on reading Japanese patterns with one of the Habu reps while I was in St. Louis last fall, and also saw their trunk show. Amazing stuff, and always inspiring...)
Purl Soho might get a look-in, too, if I'm in the neighborhood...they're tiny, but SUCH a cute shop. I know I'll get some great ideas about color and styling while I'm there.

No matter where I go, I'm going to be keeping an eye out in the hopes that I get to see one of my designs "in the wild"--whether it's Myrtle, Decimal, Agatha, or something else. It hasn't yet happened that I've caught a glimpse of someone actually wearing a sweater they've made from one of my patterns, but I secretly (OK, not so secretly now, since I'm blogging about it on the freaking Interwebs) keep hoping for that moment. It's going to be so great when that happens. If you live in New York, have made one of my sweaters, and DON'T want some crazy chick running up to you and insisting on taking your picture, you may want to avoid wearing the thing for the next few days. Or at least try to avoid the above-listed "danger zones," which I've provided as a courtesy to those who want to maintain a low profile. You never know where I might be, though--and I won't hesitate to stalk you like a cheetah on a sick gazelle if I see so much as a flicker of dayflower lace! You have been warned...

Being fruitful

Folks around me sure do seem to be fertile these days--there have been half a dozen single births or pregnancies announced among my circle of friends in as many months, plus one set of twins that's still on the way. Whew. It's made for quite a lot of baby knitting, as you can imagine.

For the last couple years, my go-to baby gift has been the Otto bear by Ysolda Teague--it's super-cute, safe for infants, and a fun knit. (For slightly older kids, I've created a sweater for Otto that they can use to practice buttoning and unbuttoning as a step toward learning to dress themselves; click here to download the PDF for free from Ravelry.)

A slightly younger friend from my knitting circle went through the Year of Friends' Weddings in 2009, so HER friend's recent pregnancy announcement is probably the start of a Year of Friends' Babies for her, too. She said if I wanted to come up with a baby blanket pattern for her, she wouldn't mind test-knitting it. At the time, I was finalizing the pattern for the Beverly cardigan, so my first reaction was "Nah, thanks all the same"...but inspiration struck, I swatched, and less than twenty-four hours later I emailed her a draft of the pattern for a leaf-lace baby blanket that echoes, with some improvements, the one I made for my nephew S.T.B. several years ago. Whaddaya know--designers can be fruitful, too! I prototyped this one in two machine-washable sport weight cotton yarns (Simply Cotton and Shine, both from Knit Picks) and the final version of the pattern is being tech-edited as I write this.

The Larkin Blanket (Ravelry details here) is named for the poet and librarian Philip Larkin, whose short poem "This Be The Verse" is, in my own personal opinion, pretty right-on about the unintended consequences of parenting. Its first line alone might be off-putting to many--as might the last line. (And depending on your job, that link might be considered NSFW, too.) Nevertheless, its overall tone of genuinely mixed anger, resignation, compassion, and reconciliation will also remind some people, as it does me, of how they (sometimes) feel about their own parents, and the daunting idea of becoming a parent in your turn.

I think most of my friends would get where I'm coming on this, and not think it's weird to name a baby blanket for the guy who admonishes us "Don't have any kids yourself." It's a cold, hard world out there, one where comfort is going to be hard to come by. For my friends who have decided against following Larkin's advice, and for their new babies, the Larkin blanket represents my hope of making the world just a little warmer, and a little less inhumane.

As for me, I'm switching to bottled water until this all baby-having business blows over.

Chiana: The Sweater

Chiana lace jacket - neckline
Originally uploaded by snowdenbecker

Last September, I had the great pleasure of seeing two friends (who are also cherished colleagues of mine from the film archive world) get married at a beautiful site in the Adirondacks. The bride was rowed by her brother across a lake to the ceremony, and the entire wedding party met their canoe at the boathouse and downed a shot of craft bourbon before proceeding up a winding path to the altar. After Chad and Diana (collectively, Chiana) exchanged vows, we milled around in the tree-ringed clearing, drank champagne while the sun set, and got a closer look at Diana's beautiful dress--a vintage Mexican lace find from eBay that fit her perfectly right out of the mailbox.

The marriage of two archivists, let alone two film archivists, is a rare thing, and one that's well worth commemorating. My envy over the dress was also something that needed to be channeled in a more productive way. I can't spend every day trolling eBay for vintage wedding dresses for myself, after all, and even if I found one, what would I do with it? I didn't wear a wedding dress to my OWN wedding, and wearing a wedding dress at any other time is just too too Havisham-y, don't you think?

Hence, the Chiana sweater: Antique-cream cotton yarn in two different lace stitches, with flared hem and sleeves and a deep Edwardian v-neckline with a wide ribbed collar and placket. I'm still looking for just the right tiny little buttons to finish this prototype off, but when it's done I'm hoping it fits the bride as well as her dress did. And when the Chiana pattern's eventually released, a portion of the proceeds will be donated to support film preservation projects, which Chiana will definitely approve of!

What I've been up to...

Vintage buttons 1/17/10

Lately I've been trying to figure out a difficult design problem for a new pattern. It's not going that well, and it's frustrating. However, it makes me glad on a daily basis that my 8th grade algebra teacher, Mrs. Rita Gary, took such pains to make sure that I succeeded in her class. Turns out knitting is one of those things that you use algebra for ALL THE TIME. Thank you, Mrs. Gary, wherever you are!

To get my mind off my troubles, there's nothing like a little bit of antique-mall button-box prowling to cheer a girl up. Here's my latest crop of finds, hiding all my aimless pattern-brainstorming scrawls...

Resistance is futile

Wow, so, Myrtle's really taken off! It seems that lots of folks are casting on for Ravelympics and various KALs, and the projects gallery is absolutely blooming with works in progress. It's really gratifying, and quite tantalizing, to see each new picture posted. First of all, the colors just knock me out--despite the fact that my favorite color is gray, I really do love seeing the all luscious greens and oranges and blues that are being used. I can't wait for the first poppy red or marigold yellow to appear.

In case you had an inclination to be that first poppy red, or marigold yellow, or amethyst or peach or periwinkle or chocolate or whatever, you should know that Stacy over at Tempted Yarns has made a special offer--25% off custom dye orders of her Good Grrl fingering weight superwash merino for those who are making a Myrtle. 4 skeins for the price of 3 means you can make a Myrtle in any size, in any color you care to dream up with her, and maybe even have enough left over for a pair of matching socks! Those are some of her colorways above, but check out the Tempted Yarns site for lots more. She's obviously got a great eye for the hues. Me, I'm already eyeing that Blue Steele colorway and I should really stop looking at it NOW because I feel a new project coming on...uh oh. Might be too late.

Testing, 1, 2...

Ever wonder what I sound like? You can have a listen over at the Knit Picks podcast! Kelley from Knit Picks and I chatted a few weeks ago about their new Independent Designers Program, which officially launches today and is, I think, a very good thing for all parties. I'm chuffed as anything to note that among the other featured designers they invited to get the program off the ground is SweaterBabe, who is, like, totally famous and stuff. Squee!

One of the things Kelley and I (OK, mostly me--I'm like one of those Chatty Cathy dolls, just pull the string and I'll keep going until you smash crucial parts with a rock) talked about was the generational difference between knitters who started long ago, and those who are just picking it up now, when there's an Interwebs and Ravelry and whatnot. Kelley and I actually started knitting at the same time--literally decades ago!--but I think that generational difference has less to do with how long you've known how to knit, and more to do with how you knit now.

First of all, how mind-blowing is it that there are people out there who have never experienced knitting without Ravelry? There's a generational difference for you, and a profound one. I remember when I first heard about it from Splityarn, who was still knitting with our gang here in Austin then. Every week after that, the first topic of discussion around the knitting circle was "Where are you on the waitlist?" We didn't even really know what Ravelry was, but we wanted in on it!

Second, how many of you consider yourself well-acquainted with a knitter you may never have even met--someone you've friended on Ravelry, or whose blog you follow, or whose pattern you made after it appeared in Knitty? Lots of hands are going up out there, I can tell...

As I see it, the knitting community has gotten both way bigger AND way closer in the past few years. It seems like there are more people knitting together, in knitting circles and local groups, but also in virtual ways like knitalongs and NaKniSweMo and KIP Days. It also seems like we identify more strongly as people with a common interest--as knitters--now that we have more means of communicating and community-building around that shared interest. By that token, I'm definitely a new-generation knitter: I've known the mechanics for a long time, but now I think of myself as someone who DOES knit, not just someone who CAN knit.

Kelley and I talked about how I'm also a new-generation designer--someone who's benefiting from the fact that you can self-publish online, a pattern here and a pattern there, and thereby connect directly with the Great Knitting Public. It's so much easier for us this way--no long submission processes, no endless publication lead times! We also get instant feedback, most of it positive, which is so profoundly inspiring.

In fact, I say this a lot, but it bears repeating: I wouldn't be putting out patterns at all if it weren't for the knitters in my group, who I see every week, and for every single person who actually takes time out of their day to write a comment or fave a project. That's to say nothing of the people who actually MAKE something from one of my patterns--either just as written, or with their own modifications. It's a genuine treat for me to see how something looks in a different color, or with different choices for fibers and shaping and closures; it's like I get to experience the fun part of designing, the play and the possibility, all over again!

For example, just check out the WIP pics of the first two Myrtles being made by Ravelry users: reanbean and Northknitter are working on their projects in Massachusetts and Sweden, using colors that are totally different from one another and from my own prototypes of this design, but they could not be more delicious to look at. This may be a designer's proprietary pride, but viewed all together, I think they look even more beautiful than any of the individual projects. Thanks, Internet; thanks, Ravelry; thanks, Knitty; and thanks, knitters everywhere.

Everything old is New Year's

Happy 2010, everyone! I rang in the new year with an old friend, who was in town for a gig with his band (well, way OUT of town, as it happens, but here in Texas we just call any destination less than 300 miles away "yonder" and drive to it--carbon footprint, carbon schmootprint!). The resultant hangover notwithstanding, I put the finishing touches on the latest iteration of the Myrtle cardigan, got some pics of it at knitting on Saturday (including this absolutely gorgeous one taken by its recipient, above), and posted the pattern on Ravelry. It's been doing really well and I'm incredibly gratified by all the super-nice comments people have made--it's gotten my year off to a great start!

The funny thing is, although it seems to have struck some sort of sympathetic note with all those Ravelers, there's very little that's actually new about Myrtle. It rather slavishly follows my usual design formula:

1. Discover some yarn you love unreasoningly and realize that you HAVE to make something with it right NOW.

In Myrtle's case, this was a skein of Nantucket Red sock yarn from Cherry Tree Hill that I picked up at our group's swap. I don't even wear this color, normally, but for some reason I grabbed a bunch of coral-y reds that night. Go figure!

2. Ditto for a stitch pattern, usually from a Barbara Walker or Nicky Epstein book.

For Myrtle, this was Dayflower Lace, a really classic motif that's fun to work and easy to memorize. I came across it in a pocket stitch dictionary one of my professors had right around the same time I got the yarn.

3. Combine with a certain amount of alcohol and think of a librarian-y name for it.

A friend's beloved cat, which was named Myrtle, died around the time I was working on this and it just felt right.

4. Pour into a cardigan with 3/4 length sleeves.

Someone remarked to me recently, "You seem to make a lot of cardigans." This is true. I also wear a lot of cardigans. They're simply the best kind of sweater. And 3/4 length sleeves are the best kind of sleeve, because long sleeves are too long and you have to keep pushing them up if you're cooking, or if it's too hot in your office (or in Texas in general, which it almost always is).

4.1. Realize you don't have enough yarn and scramble around until you find more.

I only did this for the very first Myrtle, though. For the next two, I had enough left over to make a pair of matching socks if I wanted to. The green stuff you see above was originally an, um, intense yellow that my good friend Stephanie over at Spinning Colors overdyed for me, and it is even more delicious in person.

5. Attach vintage buttons.

These are some of the ones I picked up in St. Louis in November. Another eye-candy shot here from its new owner shows them off nicely!


6. Write up, release, repeat!

For Myrtle, this turned out to be a particular challenge, because of the lace motif, and because there were a bunch of little things in the prototype I realized I could/should have done differently, but I eventually pulled it off--the different-sized one I worked up purely from my calculations turned out perfectly. I hope to add a few more sizes at the top of the range to this pattern at some point in the future, since I kind of pooped out at 2X/48" bust for this one. Stay tuned, curvy ladies!

I even noticed that I'd made this sweater, like my previous design Decimal, in an orange version and a green version. Spooky, huh? Resolution for 2010: Try something a little different! But still the same, since this seems to be working for me...

(The Myrtle pattern is $5; includes charted and written instructions for lace.)