Outside In

Another inevitability, I suppose.  I wore the inside-out Coco dress a couple of times, but the fleecy texture was wearing badly and just looked odd.  Frankly, I felt really frumpy in the dress, and I was always cold in it.  So I decided to unpick the seams and sew it the right side out and hope for the best.  

I do like it quite a bit more with the right side out, and the color isn't as bad next to my face as I feared. It is also considerably warmer with the fleecy side in (who'd have thunk? Ha).

I love it with this oversize sweater that I thrifted in February.  It maybe isn't the most flattering thing I own, but it is a wool-cotton mix, and so warm without being stuffy.  I feel great in it.  It goes extremely well with a plaid flannel slip dress I found on a random rack at Target last month.  (Although what fashion genius thought a flannel slip dress was a fantastic sartorial choice, I'll never know.  It is an okay under much heavier layer for spring, but far too thin and short for winter.  But it is teal plaid and doesn't bind my middle, so whatever).

But back to this Coco. The shade of pinky-clay means that the color pairs well with burgundy, something I wasn't expecting. It looks nice with my Boneyard scarf (still going strong!) and my L'Enveloppe (which got a lot of wear this year in particular).

 

Not much to add here, since I made no cutting changes, just re-constructed the thing.  It is still pieced to the hilt, but not bad for a yard and a half.  

There was maybe a 5" square of fabric left at the end.  The sleeves are still slightly too long, so I end up folding the cuff, but that's okay.  The majority of my RTW tops and dresses have sleeves that are too long anyway.  In any case, a better make than the original, and I'm definitely happier with it.

I put more pansies in my garden this week, and am enjoying seeing what volunteers are springing up from last year (looks like I missed a couple of daffodils when I pulled bulbs last summer--oh happy day!)  I put in some bare root dafs, plus tulip bulbs that I'm hoping will grow even though my timing is way off.  As in previous years, I don't really have a plan in mind; I'm just sticking stuff in the ground and seeing what happens.  I think I'll probably do more ornamentals this year, as I think it is just too hot on our back patio for much food to grow, but I'll probably change my mind again in a month or so.

The raspberry cane that hasn't fruited yet is sending out new leaves, and I'm hoping that this will be the year for berries on that one.  (Some raspberries will only fruit on second year canes...I cut this one off at the soil level the first year, not realizing that.)  

Unfortunately, I think the little raspberry plant I got from a friend last summer that did fruit may not this year. I probably should have cut that one off sooner, as it isn't doing anything, so I cut it off now. It might yet come back. 

The cabbage and brussels sprouts that didn't bother to mature last fall are now looking quite healthy, so perhaps I'll still get a small harvest out of it.

The Sweater That Did Not Want to Be Made

Once upon a time, there were four balls of yarn, a lovely deep teal blue, a creamy off-white, a perky red, and a leafy green.  The four friends went along together one day until they came upon a meadow of blue and red flowers with green stems.  

The creamy white said to the others, "This looks like a good pattern for us, what do you say we yoke it?" The others agreed, and they arranged themselves on long sticks, ready to be yoked into the pretty flower meadow. The strands flew in and out and looped over quickly, forming the lovely pattern.

But it turned out that the shape of the meadow was wrong, so the yarns unwound themselves and prepared to be yoked again. In and out the strands flew, looping round and round until the meadow emerged again, but this time, there was a large lake below the meadow, and the lake's shores pushed up too far into the meadow.

There was also now a pond on the other side of the meadow with a strange shape to it.  So the yarns unwound themselves a third time and tried again, starting to feel tired as the meadow once again emerged.  This time, the lake's shores were far enough away, but the pond's shape was still wrong.  

The creamy off-white looked at the lake and thought perhaps it wasn't the best place for it to dwell.  The creamy yarn asked the others and the red and green agreed, and so off they went, leaving the teal blue yarn behind.  

The teal yarn sat by itself next to the lake and pondered its predicament.  It noticed a sky-blue ball of yarn lurking in the shadows. 

"Come frolic with me, and light the sky and the water!" said he. 

 

The sky-blue yarn ventured out of the darkness and into the light, where it proved to be a wonderful contrast to the teal blue of the lake.  

"Shall we weave together to make a pattern of the sky?" asked the sky-blue ball shyly.  "I believe it will be just as pleasing as the meadow was, perhaps more so."

"Yes, let's!  Those other yarns can find some other pattern to weave themselves into.  We can be sky and sea together," said the teal yarn with enthusiasm.

So they sat by the side of the lake and wove themselves together into a pattern of flowers and leaves, of sky and seas, ending with a small pond in the middle.  And the teal yarn said to the sky blue, "This is what we were meant to be."  The sky blue agreed and nestled happily into the floating strands.  

Unhappily, the teal yarn found that there were two tunnels next to the new pattern of sky and sea, and these tunnels were extremely narrow and long.  Too narrow to be going through with any comfort.  It vowed to make them larger, and so unwound itself from around the tunnels and looped round and round to create a larger space through which to move.  At the same time, the pond was enlarged and the edges narrowed so as to make an easy plunge into its shallow depths.  

Finally, the teal yarn was satisfied and nestled into the loops under the sea.  The sky-blue yarn mumbled a sleepy goodnight, and the teal yarn yawned wondered what fields his creamy off-white, red, and green yarny friends might weave next.   

"Goodnight, sweet sky."  

The End

***

Seriously, I knit this sweater three times over, easily.  (My ravelry notes are pretty extensive for it).  I started out to make a pullover version of Kate Davies' Bláithín, using the Stripes! sweater pattern for the body and sleeves, as the stitch counts/gauge were a close match, but it just didn't want to come together, either aesthetically or fit-wise.  

I ended up with something closer to the Lilias Day pullover, which I do like a great deal, and I know I'll get good wear out of it next winter.  I'm only slightly unhappy with the yoke fit--it wants to ride up and make a fold over my bust and I don't know why--but otherwise I like the look of it, and am happy to be able to wear it at least once this season.  

Basically a sweatshirt...but call it fashun

It seems like every spring I make a number of sewing mistakes, or have a string of outright fails.  Happily, today's makes are not fails, but they both emerged from mistakes.  (Incidentally, this outfit came together exactly how I saw it in my head, so I'm pretty pleased with that).

I found some beautiful sage-green cotton terry from Birch Organics and thought to make another Toaster, since my chili one is a nice spring piece, and we're having quite a few days lately where a wool sweater is not the thing. When the fabric arrived and I realized it was 70" wide (70! inches! wide!), I knew I could make a Toaster dress if I wanted to. I used the Coco dress as a guide for the bottom piece and blended the top and bottom together. I figured if it looked terrible, I could always cut it off at the waist and add the bottom band back in for my original plan.

After wearing the chili Toaster a handful of times, I thought it felt a bit too roomy--I think the Tencel content gives it more stretch than the wool-cotton blend on my first one, and I wanted to experiment with a slightly smaller fit without printing a new pattern size.  I sewed the seam allowances on the top portion at 1/2" (the pattern calls for 3/8") and graded out to 3/8" below the waist, then to 1/4" on the skirt portion.  

Well friends, the Toaster dress looked terrible. I don't know if it was the fabric, or the color, or the fit or what, but it was not happiness. The fit on the top was fine--just the right amount of ease and fit, but the skirt part looked off. So I didn't even hem the thing and just measured and cut to length, and then cut the bottom band out of the top of the skirt portion. For visual interest, I used the wrong side of the fabric on the collar, cuffs, and bottom band, which I like very much.

And the skirt.  My original plan was to make a black version of my quilted sage knit skirt, but the company sent the wrong fabric--a heavy black cotton sweater knit.  After I contacted them about the mix up, the owner offered me several options to fix it, and I decided to keep the sweater knit at a discount and see how it worked instead--variety is the spice of life and all that.  

I thought it would work well with the Elemental Skirt, and so set to it.  I shortened it to the length I was using in the summer, and also straightened some of the pegging near the knees to give myself a bigger walking stride.  It's still pegged, but not as severely.  I added 3/4" to the front and back of the skirt (essentially grading it up a size and a half instead of my usual 1/2" grade) because my Elemental skirts from last spring are slightly snug right now and I thought this fabric would be unforgiving.  I used a 27" Ban-Rol elastic, which is perfect right now.

My only complaint is that the fabric sheds a TON because of the machine knitting.  I finished the edges more than I usually do on a knit for that reason.  The waistband was also slightly tricky as a result.  But the result is comfortable, smooth, and seems to have good recovery for an all-cotton knit.   In any case, I'm totally happy with this fun spring addition.  

Inside Out

 This make was an exercise in piecing.  I'm not sure it is an entirely successful make (not because of the piecing), but I mostly like wearing it, so I guess it is okay?  

I found some heavy cotton sweatshirt type material in what I thought was going to be a dusty pink color but turned out to be sort of a clayish pink. The reverse side, however, was a nice saturated sienna, so I decided to go with it, as the saturated side looked much better next to my face.

My original intention was a Toaster, but I changed plans after receiving the fabric and decided to try for a Coco instead, since husband really likes my blue wool Coco dress and I thought it would be nice to have another in a brighter color.  

That meant I was a bit short on the yardage, but I figured if I'd made it with the same short yardage in the wool version, I could do it with this.

I'm not really sure why it was harder to make the pieces fit on the yardage, but I had to piece the sleeves to even get to 3/4 length, and at that point, I figured I might as well piece all the way to long sleeved cuffs.  I ended up taking off the last piece to turn inside out for a contrast cuff, which I like better than my original iteration.  

I also pieced a reverse border to get the extra length I lacked.  I thought about turning the neckline to the outside for the same contrast there, but decided against it since that clay color really isn't great next to my face.  

I do kind of like the texture of the fleecy outside and smooth knit inside (which admittedly is less warm than I anticipated, but will make for a decent shoulder season piece). 

Given the hot flash issues, it was probably the right call.  I recently thrifted an oversize sweater that I think will look good with it and warm it up more.  

Legacy Stash

My husband's seamstress aunt died a few years ago, leaving behind a fair stash of fabric and notions.  (Funny story: the first time she met me, my husband and I had been dating only a few months and she immediately proclaimed that she would make my wedding dress.  It was one of those classic My Big Fat Greek Wedding moments.  In the end, however, my mother made my dress).

Anyway, when we visited one of the cousins last summer, she asked me to look through the stash and take what I wanted. A lot of it was fibers or colors that I knew I'd never use, but there was a generous yard of wool Glen plaid that I took, along with some black velvet that had been sewn into the beginnings of a teeny tiny pencil skirt. 

I'm not sure what I'll use the velvet for, but I decided to make up the Glen plaid into a simple skirt (simple being my one-trick pony).  Given that the limited yardage+plaid, it seemed best to limit seam lines for optimum pattern matching.

I used my trusty Anne Adams 9481 and left off all the waist darts and band, as well as adding back in the center back seam allowance that I had taken out the last time I graded it down.  The pockets are done in a two-part construction that I thought would look bulky in this fabric, so I took a page from the Free Range slacks and used just the back piece and stitched it to the skirt.  I hand stitched some linen bias on the pocket edge to finish it.  In retrospect, I should have extended the top edge of the pocket at least as deep as the facing, but live and learn.  

There was a bit of bemberg left from my wool skirt so I lined this one.  I faced the waistband with bemberg using the Free Range Slacks facing pattern piece.  

The elastic waistband construction uses that of the Elemental skirt.  

It looked weird to top stitch the facing, so I hand stitched it as well as the hem.  I need to steam the front again a few more times, as the fold lines have proved tricky to get out, but hopefully I'll get there in the end.

The top is another 1 yard Coco top with extended cuffs in Marsala cotton jersey knit.  I added an inch of length to the body, just to see if I'd like that better, and I'm not sure--Goldilocks again. 

It feels like it might be on the edge of hitting in an unflattering spot and perhaps my original length would have been better.  Maybe I should split the difference?  I dunno.  I realized that I need to be making a forward shoulder adjustment on tops and dresses, so will try that on future makes for a better fit.

And in the land of Penelope, I finished this sweater after knitting the yoke three times (I know, I know...) but...the sleeves fit like sausage casings and came out much too long.  I knew it was a mistake not to go up a needle size, so I'm reknitting both sleeves.  The neckline is also a bit higher and tighter than I prefer, so I'm also going to tink that back and decrease fewer stitches.  I've pretty much given up hopes of wearing it this season.  Oh well. 

This Present Moment

It's hard to know what to write these days.  I'm deeply grieved by the war (for many different reasons) and find I cannot write about it now, if ever.  The situation is highly complex and I dislike the way that the Narrative About What Is Happening is being twisted to suit simple explanations.  I feel my general lack of agency keenly.

It does feel frivolous to share my sewing and knitting in the present moment, but I like to have a record of it here to refer back to later.  (Sometimes I wonder why I do, since it really serves no one but myself, and I weary of adding my poor voice to the chattering classes, but I find I do not want to quit this space just yet).

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to make another Toaster sweater out of some cotton-tencel French terry from Telio. The price per yard was more than I usually spend, but the Kaufman French terry line has a fair amount of spandex in it, and I didn't think I'd like it in a Toaster sweater.  

I made the same size 10 as before, but shortened the body so I could put the bottom band on it.  The arm-to-hem length is about 11", which I think is a good length.  I'm starting to feel like Goldilocks with my sweater lengths, as I can't quite figure out what I like best.  10.5" is right at my waist, but can pull up the back, and 12" is bordering on frump-town, so 11" feels like a happy medium.  

And on that note, I recently reknit the bottom of my Cypress sweater to add some short rows to the back hem and slightly lengthen the body as well as make it long-sleeved.  Now I'm all: Add All The Short Rows! to my previous knits.

But I digress.  This Toaster is a nice weight, and more sweatshirt-like than my first one, but I've worn it several times since I made it.  It feels like a good transition piece on its own and a decently warm piece with a long-sleeve layer underneath.  

The color is more complex than it photographed--it has an undertone of berry in it that gives the rust a great rich color in person.  Imagine dipping rust in red wine and that will get you close.  I really like it. 

 

The silhouette is perhaps a bit more casual than my usual semi-fitted, but my clothes are all over the place right now with my body shape in flux.  

Talking Tuesday: Theotokos Covers the World

I don't have anything profound to say today, but I do want to share an icon by Ivanka Demchuk.  She is an Eastern Rite Catholic artist in Ukraine, and her work is startlingly beautiful and profound.  Her etsy shop has many different and wonderful prints of her work, and while the post office in her part of the country is closed, she has said she will ship out as soon as possible.

I find her iconography incredibly moving.  I can't stop thinking about the image above in particular, as it seems to me that the Theotokos is absorbing all the chaos of the world below.  In traditional iconography, the first layer of the icon is done in what is called "roskrysh" or chaos.  The egg tempera pigment is left deliberately rustic and mottled, so that when it is applied, there is a grainy character to it, similar to the pigmentation in the circle around the Theotokos.  As the various layers of light are applied on top of that, the roskrysh is absorbed into the higher lights, but still shows through a bit, symbolizing the chaos that underlies all creation.  

Ms. Demchuk's Transfiguration and Appearance of Christ are similarly profound.