A (Not Very) Humble Brag

I'm just going to start this post with a warning.  I'm feeling very proud of myself and although I will, as society dictates, try to appear humble, I'm pretty sure that what follows will still be pretty self congratulatory.  So be it.  Sometimes we just have to celebrate our own little victories and to hell with it.

If you've been reading this blog at all, you will know that I have recently been having a lot of fun designing my own knitting patterns and selling them through Ravelry.com  As much as I enjoy it when a pattern catches on (and better still sells), I really enjoy the creative process so it doesn't bother me too much when a pattern doesn't get a lot of attention.

I like to learn new things and I like to share my knowledge so if I manage to do either of these things, I feel pretty awesome.  With this in mind, I try to do both when I design a new pattern. My favourite techniques combine simplicity with dramatic results.  Although it's nice to occasionally knit a project because it challenges us, I feel like most knitters have limited time and resources.  I think a lot of techniques seem intimidating especially to beginners.  So I really love it when I can make a fantastic result accessible to all knitters.

So I was pretty excited when I learned about mosaic knitting, I knew it was something I wanted to master and share.  You know those Icelandic sweaters we talked about with the intricate, multi-coloured patterns in the yoke?

This is an example of fair isle knitting

That's not mosaic knitting.  That is called fair isle knitting and it requires the knitter to change colours often within a single row of knitting.  It requires complex charts of stitches and the ability to read them.  It requires time, patience, and manual dexterity.  In short, it looks fantastic but it's a bitch to knit.

Mosaic knitting, on the other hand, can be used to achieve similar fantastic results without ever changing colours in a row.  It is done by strategically slipping stitches on row, then knitting them in the next row when you have changed colours simply, as God intended, at the beginning of a row.  Magic!

These are examples of mosaic knitting

This seemed like a perfect technique for an idea that had been milling around in my head for a while.  I envisioned a pure cream background and stripes of a fair isle style pattern done in red, grey, yellow and green.  In my head, it seemed reminiscent of a German fairy tale.  Hansel and Gretyl maybe.  I wanted simple single colour stripes in the top section of the shawl.  I wanted a couple of really bold patterned stripes using all the colours at the bottom.  And I wanted some kind of border that echoed the colours throughout.

The simple stripes were, well, pretty simple to figure out.  I was sooooo proud of myself when I experimented and managed to produce a pretty good looking stripe.  Then I was looking on Ravelry and saw someone else's design that seemed to incorporate the exact same pattern that I had laboriously come up with on my own.  Apparently, it's a thing.  I probably could have found it somewhere online and saved myself a lot of effort.  Oh well.

The intricate multi-coloured stripes were from a stitch dictionary I found on YouTube which I modified with a cool spiky eyelet border.  It looked suitably Grimm.  (Get it)?  However, this was the first time I was attempting to fit a fixed pattern stitch into a shape that was increasing every row.  It seemed simple enough.  I made a spreadsheet.  I calculated stitch counts by row.  I did a  little math.  Remember this picture?

And after all that, it still didn't work.  A knitting friend suggested that I chart out the pattern first to make it easier.  That confused me even more.  Remember, math and spatial logic are not my friends.  I really struggled with it.  Every time I tried to figure it out, things weren't working.  I got a lot of suggestions from well meaning people about how to learn what I needed to know.  And although, I appreciated their suggestions, I didn't take any of them.  I can't help it.  It was something that I needed to take apart and build from the ground up for myself.  I needed to get inside it and understand how it worked.  I needed the struggle.

So I persevered.  And I got it wrong some more.  And then, finally, I saw where I was going wrong.  I adjusted some more and it was like the clouds parted and the angels sang and.....well, anyway, it worked.  Seriously though, there is no better feeling than the moment you figure out something that has been kicking your ass for days.

Was it smooth sailing from there? I wish I could say yes, but....No.  It still took a few more days of knitting, adjusting, and calculating to get it just right.  To make it look like I wanted it to.  To make it super clear and easy to follow for the people who, hopefully, invest their money and faith in my pattern.  Because the whole point is to do the hard part so that other people can follow my instructions and have simple, instantaneous success.  But I had learned something from the first mistake.  And the second.  And so on.  But the solutions were coming faster with each problem I solved and it was getting easier to spot the errors and correct them.

http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/trail-of-crumbs

Until it was done,  The sample is knit.  The photos are taken. It had a name:  Trail of Crumbs.  And the whole thing is available online for your knitting pleasure.  And whether it is popular or not, I take a lot of satisfaction from the fact that I forced myself to step out of my comfort zone and attempt a more challenging design.  That I stuck with it when it got hard.   And that I got through to the other side with considerably more knowledge than when I went in.  After all, there's more than one way to define success.

http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/trail-of-crumbs

Sometimes It Just Works

Designing knitwear is a funny business.  I got started because of a Facebook Design Challenge and I enjoyed it so much that I just wanted to create more.

When I started Francoise Danoy's challenge, I had an image in my head of what I wanted to knit.  But as I worked through the steps of her process, it changed completely.  My results were a little mixed.  I liked what I had designed and thoroughly loved the process.  But I didn't LOVE the finished result.  Her process began with finding a source of inspiration and creating a mood board.  Next step, selecting stitch patterns that came from that inspiration.  It was interesting and surprising.

http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/silver-birch-summer-wrap

For my next project, I approached things a little differently.  I found inspiration from the stitch patterns themselves and worked to create harmonious combinations in colours that I liked.  I decided that I liked working this way better and I liked my finished project more.

Now I had two finished patterns and I was itching to put them out in the World.  (Remember, I need a lot of approval and the dog couldn't be less interested in my knitting).  But I had read a lot of good advice from people in the design challenge who suggested that it was best to have a few patterns to offer before  opening a store.  So I decided I needed one more before I launched.

I didn't really have a firm idea for my next pattern so I looked at my yarn stash.  As I sorted through my yarn, I came across two skeins of yarn that I had bought in a bit of a frenzy at a knitting party at Northbound Knitting, a fantastic local indie dyer that I love.  I had purchased three skeins of a colourway that combined rich indigo with sunny yellow and cream.  Yum.  But when I got home, I realized that one of the skeins was a heavier weight than the other two and so wouldn't work for my original plans for it.  In that same frenzy, I bought another skein in the heavier weight (also by mistake) that was a subtle blend of pale yellow and light gray. Because I tend to use fingering weight most of the time, I decided that I needed to find a way to make these two oddballs play together.

I knew that I wanted to offer this next pattern for free because I hoped that it would help to generate some attention.  So I wanted to keep it really simple.  I cast on for an asymetrical triangle shawl.  An easy and popular shape that I happen to really like.  I knit six rows in garter stitch with the yellow.  Pretty.  But the blue combo was a much more dramatic, variegated yarn.  I really liked the way the drop stitch pattern on my first shawl showed off the variegated yarn and I think most knitters will agree that they are tricky to work with.  They look beautiful on the skein, but don't always knit up in the most attractive way.  So I did a simple drop stitch section with the blue.  Gorgeous!  I knit another yellow stripe.  Then another blue.  I was liking it, but I wondered if it was too simple?

But then I remembered that it was going to be free, so I just kept alternating the stripes until I ran out of yarn and then I cast off and wrote it up. It reminded me of Van Gogh's painting, "Starry Night."  So I called it the Van Gogh Shawl.

http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/the-van-gogh-shawl

Want to guess which pattern went crazy?  Yup.  The Van Gogh Shawl.  It was the pattern that wrote itself.  I loved every stage of this process.  It grew from materials that I loved.  From this experience, I gleaned three more "Purls of Wisdom."

• Use the good yarn
• Choose stitches that highlight the good yarn
•  Keep it simple

And that's the process I follow now.  It led to The Monet Boomerang, which is enjoying some modest success. 

http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/the-monet-boomerang

And, as promised, here is a sneak peek at my newest design, The Degas Ballet Shawl.

It's still on the needles, but I am loving the way it is coming together and I'm looking forward to sharing the finished product with you soon!