journal

Toys for knitting geeks (now with edits!)

… of the widget variety. Yeah, I’m no graphic designer, and good heavens, I was surprised to see that I could zip a file with no effort (um, did every version of OS X have that built in? because I wasn’t paying attention).

Anyway. If you slogged through my most recent Knitty article, you might have run out of energy and therefore need assistance with even the most trivial of tasks. So here’s little tool to help you with your number-crunching.

If you have a Mac and you’re running OS X Tiger, you can download the same calculator tool in widget form (scroll down to the bottom of the page). If you install it and think that the format is grotesquely huge (it’s 514 pixels wide), let me know so I can reduce the size for future widgets (oh, there are so many I want to write! such fun! they’ll be listed here, in the stitch & bitch section). I’m running at 1680 x 1050 so most widget fonts look too small for me.

[Note: um. The person whom I currently consider the lowest common denominator of computer users (can you feel the love?) claims that it’s confusing that one sets the side to be calculated to zero. This person wants three checkboxes or radio buttons that say “calculate this side” or something like that. If you’ve got a viewpoint and you can actually knit, I’d like to hear it.]

Pondering sleeves reminded me of this Fassett gem from Rowan 38:

Do you know what’s wrong with this picture? (Other than the fact that it’s a stranded colourwork sweater made from DK-weight yarn — gorgeous, but not for wearing indoors.)

What kind of sleeves does it have?

They’re not raglan, although the colourwork suggests that style line.

They’re not set-in, although the sweater seems to be a close fit on the model.

As with most Kaffe Fassett designs, which are great on artistic composition but not so great on fitting, they’re drop shoulders (or modified drop, can’t recall). If you’ve got the magazine, you can see the seamlines crossing the model’s upper arms. The sweater was clearly pinned to give it a tighter fit. And the model’s odd pose suggests that there’s something odd about the fit — while the body is close-fitting, the sleeves are clearly baggy. Bah. It would be gorgeous, and wearable, too, if it had been knit to fit at a finer gauge.

Edit: Along the same lines, take a look at the Monday offering at YKW. Note the apparently semi-fitted body, with baggy drop-shoulder sleeves. I’d venture a guess that this was pinned at the back as well, although I’ve never seen the schematic for this pattern. (If it turned out to be a set-in sleeve, well, that’s just wrong because nobody’s shoulders are that wide. And if they were, they couldn’t fit into that sweater body.)

Useful knitting articles

Update to the list of articles written for Knitty:

• Ravellings on the knitted sleeve - Part III (because I really want to hurt you all, yes, it’s a worked example of how to calculate set-in sleeve shaping by hand) plus, if you really can’t bear hypotenuses, there’s even a hypotenuse calculator for you
• An exposition on everybody’s favorite dirty word (an article about gauge — no, not a harangue about why you should knit a gauge swatch, but rather what you need to understand about gauge, and how to work with it rather than against it, like dealing with a row gauge that’s off)
• …but will it fit? (choosing the right starting size in a knitting pattern, and a discourse on ease) plus a follow-up article on this site about wearing ease
• Ravellings on the knitted sleeve - Part II (the whys and wherefores of set-in sleeve shaping, and a guide to the most popular methods of computing its shape–however, I didn’t add in specific examples, because you know the old adage about putting off half of your remaining audience with each equation introduced…)
• Ravellings on the knitted sleeve - Part I (a taxonomy of sleeve styles, and how to draft drop shoulder and modified drop shoulder knitting patterns)
• Knit smarter, not faster (an introduction to most of the articles that follow, and some optional prep work for each knitting pattern you follow–don’t think I won’t be obliquely referring to that stuff in later articles)
• A field guide to yarn substitutions (what to think about when swapping one yarn out for another)
• Copyright (a primer for knitters)

The stuff that’s planned for future issues of Knitty, order of publication not guaranteed:

• altering patterns #1: length (I can make anything sound more difficult than it really is: there’s also dealing with cable or colourwork repeats, and working short rows into colour and texture work)
• planning without a pattern (things to think about when making a stash enhancement acquisition for an as-yet-undetermined future project; or, how to minimize the likelihood of pulling the yarn out three years later and asking yourself what you were thinking)
• altering patterns #2: width
• altering patterns #3: womanizing (making a box-shaped sweater a little more va-va-voom)

Other likely topics: substituting cables, knitting for pregos.

You say combination, I say combined

The leading/trailing edge thing on this page has been corrected.

I blame the same thing as before. Bah.

Great idiosyncrasies of knitting

[click]

In response to a question…

“Rowing out” is a term used to describe the uneven appearance of adjacent rows of knitting. It’s most obvious in stockinette or reverse stockinette, since there aren’t any textural features in the knitting to hide this kind of flaw. (This assumes that the uneven appearance wasn’t intentional — sometimes it is a design feature.) In the picture at left (click to enlarge), you can see that some stitches seem to be more prominent than others; in this particularly egregious example, it looks like the fabric hasn’t even been blocked. In fact, it had been washed and blocked and steam-ironed.

Rowing out occurs when you exert a different amount of tension on the yarn while knitting a stitch than while purling a stitch. You could also say that it’s because the length of yarn required to form a knit stitch is different from the length of yarn required to form a purl stitch — same thing, because the more tension you exert on the yarn, the tighter your stitch will be, and the less yarn consumed to form a stitch. In stockinette, this differential becomes obvious because a row of knit stitches is adjacent to rows of purl stitches (when knit back-and-forth, not in the round). It’s less obvious or non-existent when knits and purls are mixed together within a single row, and especially when neighbouring stitches in adjacent rows alternate between knit and purl stitches (when viewed from the right side): think of garter stitch, or seed or moss stitch. Rowing out theoretically shouldn’t happen at all when you are working stockinette or reverse stockinette in the round, assuming that on every round you insert the working needle and wrap the yarn the same way.

The difference in tension or length could be caused by an instinctive preference for working knits over purls, or by the way you wrap your yarn around the needle to create a knit or purl stitch. This means that rowing out can be corrected by either making a conscious effort to alter your tension while knitting — as Claudia noted in the comments of the last post, you can use different size needles for the knit rows and the purl rows. (Say, Denises would be handy for that). You could also try changing the way you work your knit stitches (or purl stitches), but not changing your technique for the purl stitches (or knit stitches). The next time I knit stockinette in something aran weight (which is where I experience the most rowing out), I’m going to try one or both of these solutions (the first one assumes that the needle sizes I need are in the Denise range — otherwise, I won’t because all my needles are circular and I can’t bear having loose circular needle ends flopping about). Right now, I’m swatching a sport weight cotton ribbon yarn using my usual combined knitting technique, and there isn’t any rowing out that I can see yet.

And the subject of the photo in this post? Fortunately, when you’re photographing the whole garment, the rowing out is harder to see. I’m hoping that some more laundering sessions (soaking and swishing with Eucalan) will help equalize the tension in the stitches, but it will be a while before I find out if this will be successful, because I’m not going out of my way to wash wool sweaters that don’t otherwise need washing. I think in this case, it will take quite a few more washes to coax the stitches into a more uniform appearance, because this yarn was knit to a tighter gauge than what was normally recommended (5 stitches rather than 4.5 stitches to 1 inch).

Grafting? What grafting?

Considering that I’ve subjected everybody else to the delight of grafting a row of both knit and purl stitches together, you might be deluded into thinking that I’m an expert at it myself. I most definitely am not. From what I recall, both Steph’s graft of the Rogue hood (which I’ve seen live) and Claudia’s (which I’ve virtually seen) were better than mine.

So, the next time I found myself wanting to have two pieces of knitting move symmetrically in opposite directions around a neckline and merge at the center back, I decided to make life easier on myself by starting at the center back and working towards the front. First the right side is worked, then the left is picked up from the first row of knitting and worked towards the front as well. The sides are joined (in the case of a pullover) at the center front by working across all stitches; in the case of a cardigan, they’re tapered towards the front band. The body stitches are picked up from the outside of the collar, then worked down, first with a series of short rows, then eventually full rows, just like any other top-down raglan.

This all works very well, until you start multisizing your collars and forget which size your sample/prototype garment is supposed to be.
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Homespun conclusion, and the space in between

Based on the comments, I think that it’s the negative synergy theory that wins out. The plastic feel is probably amplified by the yarn structure. All round, a winner, until you discover what real fibers feel like.

There’s a new chart on the site: the luckenbooth medallion, which I used for what I think is the first afghan square I have ever knit. That was last month. That’s in keeping of my record of not having made a scarf until I had been knitting for about eight years.

The method of charting I used for it is the same as I used for Rogue. (But with better-looking symbols–Rogue used the same graphic symbol set as the older charts on this site, and since then I’ve recreated them in Illustrator so they look smoother. I used this new symbol set for the Shedir cap as well.) By “method”, I mean choosing not to insert blank squares as placeholders to compensate for the varying stitch counts from row to row, which are very common in closed-loop cable charts.

With the older charts, like the simple celtic or Durrow, there’s a certain (very low) frequency of inquiries that flow in about the black squares that were used as placeholders. The legend for those charts reads “no stitch–if you are knitting in this row, this stitch does not physically exist” yet there would still be a number of “what do I do with these stitches?” questions. When I eliminated the placeholder squares in Rogue, the number of questions I received about row mismatches was far lower than the number of placeholder questions. I don’t think that can be attributed solely to the fact that there were knit-alongs with knitters other than me answering those questions, so I figure I’m going to stick with the varying stitch count method of charting.

Compare these charts, for example…
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Mea culpa, I think, but it’s late and perhaps I’m confused

I am guilty of making crass assumptions about that class of knitters that probably constitutes the majority of my readership. You see, I’m not like you, and not being you, I don’t understand you, and not understanding you, I make sweeping generalizations that turn out not to be true.

So I suppose I owe you western knitters an apology for any confusion I inadvertently caused while engaging in my aristocratic combined knitting speculations about you.

It’s the double increase that’s used to begin closed-loop cables in Rogue, you see. I thought my description of that technique in the instructions (knit into the front then the back of the next stitch, then pick up the vertical strand yada yada) was suitable for you.

And I continued to think that until Kim recently pointed out, quite beautifully with photographs, how one actually works the double increase, western style.

You see, I knit using the combined method, so my knit stitches are mounted differently than stitches formed using the western method. This means that for years, before I secured a copy of Mary Thomas’s Knitting Book (this was the publication that finally clued me in), k2tog and ssk as illustrated in common reference books simply didn’t make sense, and I just worked the paired decreases that I understood gave me the right effect.

This also means that when I first wrote the instructions for beginning closed-loop cables in 2001 or so, I assumed that western knitters, for whom knitting instructions were typically written, just did the opposite of what I did: they knit into the bit of the stitch that lay in front of the needle in order to produce an untwisted knit stitch, while I knit into the part of the stitch that lay behind, and mutis mutandis for purl stitches. Thus, for the double increase that’s used to begin the closed-loop cables in Rogue (and many other cables), when I saw that I first knit into the back of the base stitch, then knit into the front, I concluded that western knitters would have to knit into the front of the base stitch, then the back.

Not quite clever enough.

I didn’t realize that the choice of knitting into the back of the stitch versus the front, and vice versa, was dictated by the mount of the base stitch on the needle. The base stitch is a purl stitch; picture it in your mind. If you’re a western knitter, the leading edge of the purl stitch is at the front of the needle, and the trailing edge of the stitch is at the back of the needle. If you’re a combined knitter, the purl stitch is mounted the same way.

Now, I began my double increase by knitting into the back of my base purl stitch. I glibly assumed that this meant westerners would knit into the front of their purl stitches. But the western purl was mounted the same way as mine — meaning that western knitters should likewise knit into the back, not the front.

A better way to explain it is in terms of the knit stitch that would be created by this step. I, combined knitter, would knit into the back (trailing edge) of a purl stitch, creating a twisted stitch. But I told western knitters to knit into the front (leading edge) of their purl stitches first, which creates an untwisted stitch. What I should have done is told them to create that twisted stitch too — in other words, knit into the back of the base purl stitch.

In further other words, I had thought that western stitch mounts were the exact opposite of combined stitch mounts, which isn’t correct. Combined knitting is a combination of western and eastern stitch mounts, meaning that at least some of the combined knitting stitch mounts are the same as western stitch mounts. Duh.

Now, I even tried swatching in faked western knitting, to see if knitting into the front before the back worked. And it did, in my swatch, because as it turns out I wasn’t actually knitting western, I was knitting reverse combined, which to my knowledge is a knitting method that doesn’t actually have its own name. (I’m sure that someone out there must knit that way, so maybe the footage I shot of myself working a double increase in reverse combined knitting will be useful someday.) That’s why you’re not getting photos in this post that obviously cries out for them. (Again, if you happen to be a reverse combined knitter, let me know and maybe I’ll post them just for you.)

What’s more, as if this wasn’t enough confusion (and if this were a knitting joke about a speeding motorist and a traffic cop, what follows would be the “no! it’s a scarf!” line), I just tried swatching again in what I think is correct faked western knitting, and the technique still works, even if you knit into the front before knitting into the back of the stitch. I will probably tackle the next western knitter I encounter and force him or her to work this double increase both ways.

Kim, being the lovely and helpful person she is, gave me permission to use her correct western knitting photos. There’s now a page up here with the step-by-step details, so you don’t have to gobble up her bandwidth. I have footage of myself knitting the double increase using the combined method, which I’ll reduce to still shots and put on the same page. I was going to put up video clips, but the bandwidth consumption would be a problem.

(Plug for wiseNeedle: Knitted something lately? Of course you have. Did you use yarn? Highly likely. Form any opinion of the yarn you used? Doubtlessly. So go submit a review so that others can be enriched by your insight. Thinking of knitting something? If you’re reading this, probably. Planning to use yarn? Duh. Looking for other people’s opinions of your intended yarn before you splurge? Try here.)

Substituting yarns for Banff and Big Sack

I’ve been asked quite a few times about suitable yarn substitutions for these two designs (one from Knitty and one from Stitch ‘n Bitch). Both of these sweaters, since they had their genesis in the same design concept, use the same gauge yarn, namely, “chunky” yarn that knits at roughly 14 sts and 20 or 21 rows per four inches (any gauge difference between the patterns is probably a blocking-induced gauge change).

In general, here’s a wonderful (ha ha) article on choosing suitable yarn substitutions.

More specifically, there are a lot of suitable substitution yarns available for these two patterns. Because of their plain, easy-fitting design, and the simplicity of the cable in Big Sack, you can choose soft yarns or harder yarns, smooth textured yarns or fuzzy yarns; it’s really a choice to be dictated by your wallet and your own preferences. Peruse your real or virtual LYS for yarns with the right gauge, and decide what you feel like knitting.

Having said that, here are a few guidelines.

If you’re planning to use an animal fiber:

Think about how you’re planning to wear the sweater. If you mean to wear the sweater as your outer layer defence against the elements, you won’t mind if the yarn is scratchy, which means that the Tahki Soho Bulky and Alafoss/Reynolds Lopi are suitable yarns. Soho, and tweedy yarns like it, lend a rustic look to your sweater. Lopi is usually solid (there are some heathered colours) and result in an outdoorsy-but-not-quite-rustic look. Both of these yarns are twisted singles, and to my touch the Lopi is less comfortable for direct skin contact. Soho isn’t all that soft, but soft enough for me so that I can wear Banff over a t-shirt; I have relatively high “itch” tolerance. I’ve found from knitting both these yarns that despite the fact that it’s a twisted single, the Soho is less energized than than Lopi; my stitches in Soho aren’t as skewed as in Lopi. (Read up on energized singles and spinning if you don’t know what I mean.)

Yarns like these create a beefy, thick fabric. It could potentially be quite a heavy fabric, depending on how dense your knitting actually is. Other yarns that behave in a similar manner include Rowanspun Chunky (the yarn used for Big Sack; I have issues with it, below), Rowan Yorkshire Tweed Chunky (the manufacturer’s suggested gauge is just a guide, remember), Patons Upcountry, and a lot more–too many to think of and list. If you’re looking in your (real, not virtual) LYS for a substitute like this, grab one of these suggested yarns and compare its construction, feel, and thickness with potential substitutes.

A side note: since knitting the Big Sack, I’ve determined I’m not that fond of Rowanspun yarns–I find the “pre-fulled” aspect of the yarn somewhat distracting. If I knit a garment from woolen-spun yarn, I want it to acquire that fulled look after washing, to create a unified fabric. Somehow, the fabric’s not the same when using Rowanspun. I like the Rowan yarns with the more traditional plied construction like Magpie and Chunky Tweed, both discontinued. (Chunky Tweed is another good substitute for these sweaters, if you have it–my understanding is that the mill that produced this yarn closed, so the yarn had to be discontinued.)

If you want the sweater to add a layer of warmth, but plan to layer it under a jacket or shell, you don’t need a knitted fabric that provides windbreaking functionality so much as you want a knitted fabric that traps air. These functions aren’t mutually exclusive, but not all insulating fabrics will stop wind. Certain fibers or yarn types trap more air within the strands and between the stitches, providing you with insulation. (Alpaca is known for this, and it is often recommended that you not knit it tightly; otherwise, it won’t trap air as effectively. I haven’t experimented with this so I can’t verify this wisdom.) Yarn types that may provide this functionality include boucles and similarly slightly fuzzy, textured yarns, yarns with a halo of fiber radiating from the component strands or core, yarns that are not tightly spun or plied, and wool yarns that are woolen-spun rather than worsted-spun, although this depends on how tightly you knit the yarn. I can’t give specific examples of substitutes because I don’t really like many fuzzy or halo yarns.

If you want to be able to wear the sweater inside comfortably, you don’t want to roast and you want to be able to lounge around comfortably; I’d suggest a yarn that knits up to a more flexible fabric, and not a dense (i.e. windbreaking) fabric. You might also consider Araucania Nature Cotton, discussed below.

Also think about how you plan to make the sweater fit. Banff was intended to be very loose and lazy, but on some knitters, it’s not massively oversized. Big Sack was designed to have the same fit as Banff, but this was altered by the pattern editor so now it’s loose-fitting, but not hugely loose-fitting. The closer the fit (say, within 6″ of your actual chest measurement), maybe the less dense the fabric should be. If it’s incredibly loose fitting, then a densely knit fabric is okay. Less dense means more flexibility in the fabric, and more ability to conform to your body shape. Really, everybody looks fat in close-fitting chunky knits. Oh, right, fashion models. Everybody normal looks fat in close-fitting chunky knits.

If you don’t want wool or a wool blend:

As I told people when these patterns were released, cotton yarns that knit to this gauge are often quite heavy, and it won’t be pleasant to wear a big garment knit in most pure cotton yarns that knit to a gauge of 14 sts over 4 inches. There are a number of cotton-acrylic blends on the market that will be more comfortable to carry on your frame than pure cotton. The downside to those blends is that they’re often sold in 50g balls, which works out to about 60 meters. That pretty much doubles the number of ends you’ll have to weave in, compared to wool yarns sold in 100g skeins.

However, since both patterns were published, Araucania Nature Cotton has been introduced. Araucania can knit to the right gauge, although I personally prefer it at 4 sts to the inch (and beware the yardage printed on the label–it’s way off) and is comparatively lightweight and very soft. This means it will be more prone to pilling and wear than other cotton yarns, but otherwise I consider it a great alternative to wool for these designs. I hate knitting with cotton, yet I’ve got some in my stash right now.

Edit: I should add (I knew this, but I forgot)–Araucania (that brand, at least) may not be available or easily obtainable in North America for much longer.