Journeys
Yesterday my colleague and good friend LH took me to the wonderful The Royal Edinburgh Repository and Self Aid Society on Castle Street. Kate Davies has written a whole post on it (and weaves in a bit of Jane Austen too), but nothing prepared me for the actual shop.
It reminded me of those summers when I would pretend to be Anglican for one day. I helped out in the home produce stall at the annual summer feté at the Anglican Church in Copenhagen - mostly as a favour to friends, but also because I could grab some really tasty homemade jam and sneak off with awesome homemade cakes (and cheap books). The shop was filled with all sorts of homemade goodies: jams, cakes, fudge .. oh, and knitting.
Oh, but the knitting. I had several moments of weak knees and uncontrollable knitterly glee. Plenty of pretty baby garments, practical gloves and neat scarves .. and then you would uncover one Shetland shawl after another. One-ply Shetland shawls - yes, cobweb Shetland shawls. The most beautiful, astounding things you could ever want to see in your entire life.
LH is holding one in the photo. I think at this point the two shop assistants had decided that we were bonkers, but harmless.
They pulled out more things for us to marvel at: fair-isle gloves and delicate lace scarves. I looked at prices and my heart nearly broke: for a full-size cobweb Shetland shawl (similar to the bottom shawl) the shop asked £75 (a quick price comparison). It is heart-breaking to see people of exquisite skill selling their handiwork at such a price - it is devaluating their work, their skill and their time - and I wonder why a centrally-placed Edinburgh shop is selling the shawls at such a low price? Does this reflect the market for such shawls or does it reflect that they are unsure about how to price the items?
LH said something profound about knitting journeys yesterday and I have been thinking about her words. Whilst I was physically taking my knitting on a journey yesterday, I began thinking about how knitting is also taking me for a journey.I am somewhere very different to where I am just a few years ago when I got back into knitting and that journey has only just begun.
In my head I'm playing around with a complex set of 'identity markers' and I am trying to work them out through knitting. I am getting increasingly interested in my knitting heritage (primary Danish and Faroese, of course, but with several detours because I am essentially a flâneur) as well as British textile history. I like to think of knitting as something intensely personal - the yarn runs through our hands and we touch every millimetre of the material we are creating - and I want my knitting to reflect me whoever I am becoming.
And to keep me warm and cosy so I will not die during the forthcoming Scottish winter. My cardigan's coming on nicely, non?
DK: Knit
DK: Knit is an exhibition of contemporary knitwear design by graduates from the Kolding School of Design currently on display at the Danish Cultural Institute in Edinburgh. Being both of the knitterly and the Danish persuasion, I thought I might as well check it out.
Unsurprisingly, most of the pieces are machine-knitted and at a fairly fine gauge. Some pieces explore garment construction (like the piece shown left), other pieces explore the idea of "fabric". One particular piece resembles a big pink bath sponge plunged on the floor - I can admire the skill in its construction whilst at the same time reject its aesthetic, can't I? - whilst another piece looks like an upmarket version of IKEA curtains (and uses the same stitch pattern as the Summit Shawl).
My favourite pieces are the ones which add twists to so-called classic knitting: items that acknowledge their debt to generations past whilst still trying to pave the way forward.
Hans-Christian Madsen has two pieces included in the DK: Knit exhibition and I really liked both. My favourite was the pullover shown right: a traditional Icelandic yoked sweater in subtle colours - but when you get closer, you can see that the colourwork yoke incorporates unusual materials.The surface is broken up - but by texture rather than colour.
Katarina i Geil also draws upon knitting traditions - most obviously from her native Faroe Islands - but uses cables in a really organic, free-flowing way. I am also impressed by her use of embellishment and contrasting texture. One piece is handknitted(?) in rustic wool with clever crochet ornaments in silk. Sadly my photos has not turned out well nor does she have any web presence, so you will have take me at my word.
For a handknitter, DK:Knit is not the most inspiring exhibition. I can see some possibilities in the play with surface textures, but I think fashion students will find it more worthwhile. I did enjoy my chat with the friendly staff and I was alerted to a new Danish bakery in Edinburgh. Mmm, tebirkes!
The knitterly content continues tomorrow..
Yes, there is more. Oh yes, there is more.
Sunday Sunday
Sunday, Sunday here again a walk in the park..
The day started with me drinking my morning tea whilst listening to BBC Radio 4's Women's Hour where I was informed that knitting was a "post-modern, ultra-chic habit adopted by the very, very cool." So now we know.
Then I began preparing for the Barcelona skirt sewing demonstration I'm doing Wednesday. I cut out the pattern pieces, read the instructions, and then laughed with relief. The skirt is very easy - just three pieces plus zipper and lining - and although I've not done much dress-making in the last fifteen years, I am confident I am not going to mess this up. Famous last words, of course.
The afternoon was spent in the communal garden. We live in a Victorian tenement flat and we share our garden with four other blocks. The plan is to make our communal garden sustainable and organic - today we attended a workshop on turning a tenement garden into a place to grow food (alongside all the other needs it has to fulfil: drying space, bicycle sheds, bin sheds, recreational space etc). A lot of the residents realised that edible plants were already growing in the garden - some planned (like potatoes, various herbs and strawberries) and some rather unplanned (St. John's Wort, barley and gentian). We discussed getting some fruit trees whilst having herbal tea and cake under the existing Cypress trees.
At this point I felt very middle-class.
Then D & I meant to go blackberry picking. Well, bramble picking since they call blackberries brambles here in Scotland. As you can see, though, the berries are not quite ripe yet (neither are the elderberries). So I went for a little walk through our neighbourhood instead.
The North Kelvin Meadow is just around the corner from our flat. There is a short video posted on its site which lets you see the beautiful space for itself - it is basically a waste ground between tenements which has been "adopted" by local people. There are tiny allotments on the site now but mostly it functions as breathing space for local wildlife and as a "wild" natural habitat in the middle of a busy city. I like looking at the ex-whiskey barrels that have become micro-allotments. Actually, I like spending time there, full stop. The Meadow is very peaceful.
(As you can imagine, though, developers are quite keen on getting their hands on the Meadow (it is right in Glasgow's prime property area), so there is an ongoing campaign to let the Meadow remain a meadow.)
On a personal note, I went for a walk (and a good cry) because I had some very sad news from Denmark. Sometimes I feel very far away from family & friends, and I am unable to travel back right now (for various reasons). It makes me feel powerless and downright awful. I love Glasgow - it feels more like home than anywhere else I have ever lived - but sometimes I do wish I still lived in Denmark. It would make moments like this one a bit easier to handle.
Something for the Weekend
My new autumnal knitting project. I started working on it last night whilst watching Digging for Britain, a programme about British archaeology. When I was a teen I wanted to be an archaeologist specialising in Neolithic sites (you get a lot of those where I grew up). Then I went out on work placement and realised that the majority of the job consisted in mapping the landscape and measuring soil depths. Clearly not my thing, but I still love learning about middens, neolithic settlements, and migration patterns. As you can imagine, I've always been a riot at parties.
Anyway. Knitting.
I am completely smitten with the new Kim Hargreaves collection, Touching Elegance. It ticks a lot of my boxes: sumptuous colours, defined silhouettes, 1920s/1930s styling and copious amounts of warm fibres. I was torn between Eleanor, Ella, Nancy, Mae, Nellie, Isadora, Patsy and Delores - I told you I was smitten - and have sort of hedged my bets a bit (more on that later when I figure out if I'm right in doing what I'm doing). The collection feels a lot more grown up than my usual thing, but I think the colour palette has a lot to do with that. As you can tell from the photo, I have chosen a less than sombre colour - Rowan Baby Alpaca in Cherry Red, kittens.
Also in the photo: fabric. It's a long story but I have been roped into doing a public sewing demo next week. Don't ask. I'll be making an Amy Butler Barcelona skirt complete with lining and a hidden zipper. I'm petrified as I have not done any sewing for about two decades and all my sewing terminology is in Danish. Sewers everywhere, weep for your art and craft. On the plus side, I got to choose the fabric myself and I cunningly chose a design which matches my autumn knitting project. It'll be fine but I will be poring over sewing instructions and blogs the next few days.
Also on the agenda the next few days: a Joseph Beuys exhibition (I'm not huge fan of Fluxus, but I also have to step outside of my comfort zone now and then) and DK:KNIT, an exhibition on experimental knitting design hosted by the Danish Cultural Institute in Edinburgh (this means I'll be in Edinburgh on Monday, by the way. Give me a shout if you want to meet up for coffee).
Assorted linkage: Other Half loves this poster but I just cannot get beyond how Freudian it is. Or is it just me? Save the Words! is a beautiful application although most of the words are surely inkhorn terms. And this Icelandic jumper spotted at the Reykjavik Pride Parade is just about the best thing ever.
Thank Yous Are Long Overdue
I'm having a pretty awesome week for various reasons and as a result I have not had much time to 'grap a cuppa' (as they say here in Blighty), sit down and think about what's going on. I am not complaining about awesome things happening, but I do appreciate having time to breathe and having time to reflect.
First, though, a big thank-you to some very generous people.
Roobeedoo and I had a quick conversation whilst at Knit Camp and it went pretty much like this:
Me: You look like you!
R: You look like you too!
Me: I have some vintage sewing patterns. You rock vintage sewing patterns. You want them?
R: OK!
Me: Cool!
R: I'll take a photo of you first before I go look at Knit Camp vendors!
Me: Ughdfsagr..
And so vintage patterns were sent north-wise and in return I received a very chic 1960s sewing pattern. Oh, and some yarn which was totally not part of the deal but who am I to complain when it's two balls of Drops Alpaca in a very fetching coral-pink-red shade. Funnily enough I have some grey Drops Alpaca in my stash and I'm sensing stripes + wristwarmers + hat ..
Earlier this year my friend Paula ran The Race For Life and I had chipped in as part of her sponsor deal. As a thank-you, Paula made me a personalised scissor fob in my favourite colours and I received my gift this week. I'm using the fob as my keyring (alongside a felted sheep - don't ask) because that way I'll get to see my gift every single day. I'm a huge fan of handmade presents.
And finally Ms Old Maiden Aunt handed me a Knit Nation goodie bag, a Sanquhar gloves kit (because I'm a big sucker for local history & knitting traditions) and her Tangled Yoke Cardigan. When I protested about the amount of gifts, she told me that she was bribing me into knitting her a Laminaria shawl. Hmm.. cunning plan, Lilith!
Now, I'm off to sit down with my new autumnal knitting project and hopefully having time to ponder various going-ons. It's been a mad week so far and it's not over yet.
Pattern: The Vicar’s Fields Mitts
As promised, here is the pattern for The Vicar's Fields Mitts. They're a small colourwork project - just perfect if you want to try out stranded knitting before starting a Fair-Isle cardigan or pullover. You can also use this project to tweak your techniques - two-handed stranded knitting, anyone? - or if you feel like experimenting with colour. Best of all, these mitts will keep your hands toasty.
Please note that this pattern is not a pattern with seven colourful illustrations, a list of abbreviations and row-by-row instructions. This pattern assumes that you are an intermediate knitter. It will not take you by the hand (no pun intended!). I have proof-read the pattern carefully but if you do find any errors, please let me know.
Pattern for The Vicar's Fields
Yarn: I used two different 4-ply Shetland yarns equivalent to J&S 2ply Jumper weight or JC Rennie 4ply. For a less rustic look, you can use fingering-weight sock yarn.
Yardage: 2 50g balls (one in each colour). Approximately 150-180 yrds per ball.
Needles: I used 2.25mm circs for my tiny size. You might want to up that to either 2.5mm (small) or 2.75mm (large). Upsizing is at your discretion. You can use either circs (magic loop) or double-pointed needles.
Gauge: 32st over 4"/10cm
A pair is made of two identical, reversible mitts.
---
CO 60 stitches in colour A.
Row 1: knit
Row 2: Purl
Row 3: *K1, slip 1* Continue until end.
Row 4: Join colour B. Knit 1 in colour B, purl in colour A. This creates your corrugated ribbing. Do this for ten rows in total. Take care that you don't pull the floats too tightly as you'd want the ribbing to stay slightly elastic. Break off colour B at the end of row 14.
Row 15: Knit using colour A, slipping purled stitches.
Row 16: Purl, increasing evenly to 70 stitches
Row 17: Knit.
Row 18: Join colour B. Follow chart (and repeat it 5 times per rows).
Repeat entire chart four times. Try on the mitt and see if the ribbing falls comfortably on your wrist and if you can just pinch together fabric round the base of your thumb. If you can't, repeat chart one more time.
Then slip the first 16 stitches onto a stitch holder or spare length of yarn, turn, CO 2 stitches in colour B, turn, knit remaining 54 stitches in pattern.
Resume knitting from chart (you should now be repeating it four times per row). I repeated the entire chart twice, but please adjust according to the length of your own hand.
Break off colour B. Knit one row in colour A.
Next row (row "1"): purl
Row "2": *K1, slip 1* Continue until end.
Row "3": Join colour B. Knit 1 in colour B, purl in colour A. This starts your corrugated ribbing for the top section of your hand. Do this for five rows in total.
Row "8": Knit using colour A, slipping purled stitches.
Row "9": Cast off in purl.
Thumb:
Slip the 16 stitches from the stitch holder on to either DPNs or a circular needle (I prefer DPNs at this stage, personally). Pick up four stitches (the two you CO'd plus two from either side of the slipped stitches). 20 stitches now on needles.
Row 1: Using colour A, knit.
Row 2: Purl
Row 3: *K1, slip 1* Continue until end.
Row 4: Join colour B. Knit 1 in colour B, purl in colour A. This starts your corrugated ribbing for the thumb. Do this for five rows in total.
Row 9: Knit using colour A, slipping purled stitches.
Row 10: Cast off in purl.
Weave in ends, and block to smooth out stitches.
Linkage & More
My commuting project is zipping along nicely.
I'm currently knitting the Larisa scarf for myself in Kidsilk Haze, shade 582 (Trance). The beads are teardrop-shaped beads from The Bead Company. Recently Rhiannon finished knitting Larisa and seeing somebody else's version of your own design is the coolest thing imaginable (it felt even better than when I got published some years back and that felt pretty good). I have no deadline for this scarf - it is just a portable project and if I can sneak in one or two repeats of the lace pattern on the bus, I'm happy.
I'm currently waiting for the new Kim Hargreaves book, Touching Elegance. Clever people have tracked down some blurry photos from eBay and I've been trying to guess which yarns were used for the various designs. Straight off the bat, I'd say that Patsy is my favourite. Not that long to wait, though, as the book should be arriving in stores next week (should being the operative word). I was wearing my Icelandic jumper earlier today in anticipation of proper autumn knitting (the weather is still a bit too warm, though) and I cannot wait to get started on some lovely woollen cardigans.
Mmmm. Wool.
Some linkage:
- Frank Kermode has passed away at age 90. Absolutely devastating. In the words of one of the Guardian's commentators: "On behalf of English Literature graduates the world over, thank you Frank. R.I.P."
- Morrissey's 13 Favourite Albums are exactly as you'd imagine: glam rock, Iggy Pop/New York Dolls, Jeff Buckley and people who sound like Morrissey.
- Delivering Gatsby - "How effective is it to use literature to seduce men?" (Thank you, Emme).
- Sympathy for the Devil - Looking at the Facebook fan groups for British killer Raoul Moat, this article is as far removed from tabloid sensationalism as you can get whilst still not budging an inch. Highly recommended read.
- Bree Sharp: 'David Duchovny' (youtube). I showed this to D last night as a response to a certain pop song about Ray Bradbury (no link: very NSFW, very crass, very funny - go seek it out). I could not believe D had not heard of Bree Sharp's 'the man, the myth, the monotone' song. It was huge in my student hall circa 1999.
Green
Aberdeen is known as "the Flower of Scotland", I'm told. I know it better as "Granite City" because such a huge part of Aberdeen is built from granite. Whilst Aberdeen's Duthie Park is understandably a turist attraction, most visitors will just know the grey granite city centre with its very few pockets of greenery/fresh air. You walk and walk and suddenly all you know of the world is grey granite. And then you make it to the Union Terrace Gardens and you sigh a very big sigh of relief.
Except The Aberdeen City Council has decided the Union Terrace Gardens need to be developed (or should that be re-developed).
You see, planning permission was already in place for a new visual arts centre - an expansion of Peacock Visual Arts which would have provided North East Scotland with a proper arts centre next to its Art Gallery and the library - as was funding, but these £13.5m plans have now been scraped in favour of a £140m plan suggested by local oil tycoon, Ian Wood. Wood's plan involves raising the Gardens to street level (using a concrete base), a car park and new shopping facilities.
Cue massive public outcry, a public consultation which found overwhelmingly against Ian Wood's plan, and a City Council which decided to side with the money man.
As you can tell, I'm on the side that think a concreted Union Terrace Garden will just make Aberdeen look even more grey. It is a shame.
On an entirely different note, if you read nothing else today, do go read Bells' blog entry about reading her grandmother's letters. It tugged damn hard at my expat heartstrings and it also made me miss my grandmother even more. I'm a professional cynic, but, really, my heart's not in it (especially after reading Bells' words).
Søpapegøjer!
We saw puffins in Aberdeenshire. We were out cliff-walking just south of Aberdeen when D. took out his binoculars. He spent almost twenty years living in a small fishing village off the North Sea coast, but this was only the second time he had ever spotted puffins. They were out to sea, but they were unmistakably puffins. Søpapegøjer!
I also saw a couple of yarn shops. Wool For Ewe came recommended to me, but I came away feeling slightly underwhelmed despite pleasant staff and a nice selection. I ended up buying enough Jamiesons Ultra to make a lace shawl (shh!). I also bought one ball of JC Rennie 4ply in a green-blue colour which brought home just how much I'm itching to do a proper fair-isle project. I have a good selection of colours in various Shetland 4-ply yarns stashed aside and these days most of my pattern purchases seem to be colourwork-orientated. Apart from the new Rowan 48, I have also just bought Sasha Kagan's classic book on fair-isle knitting. Kagan's book is very dated in terms of styling - hello 1980s make-up and hair! - but the patterns are very interesting and inspirational. While the idea of a dachshund-covered waistcoat might not appeal, I can certainly see myself knitting some fingerless gloves with pansies or seagulls.
I'm slowly moving towards autumn-knitting, you see. Scotland is never the warmest place in the world (or even in the UK!), so woolly knits are never far from my thoughts. However, I was browsing through some old blog entries the other day and I noticed how much I emphasised Needing Accessories. My thinking is that I might as well get a few quick-knit accessories under my belt before I start to yearn for big woolly cardigans. Last winter I loved my big snuggly scarf, so I have kept that in mind as I'm trying to narrow down my must-knits. Matters are complicated by the fact that I have been commissioned to design a couple of scarf patterns, that I have a few commissioned knitting projects, that a colleague of mine is expecting (and is going on maternity leave in two weeks, so I better start knitting!), and that my wrists are still not entirely happy about the amount of knitting I do.
Most of all, I wish I could take more time off and spend it up north. I do not why I love Aberdeenshire so much, but I suspect it reminds me of Denmark (albeit with dangerous cliffs, birds of prey, hills, crumbling castles, granite, puffins, and glorious 'high' skies). I always feel at peace whenever I am up north and it takes me a few days to adjust being back in Glasgow. Sigh.
Relics
"Legend has it that you don't fully quality for your West End passport unless at least one item in your house comes from Relics."
I have only lived in Glasgow for four years, but by that standard not only do I carry a West End passport, I'm an ambassador for the West End. I love Relics and visit a least a couple of times a week - which you need to do in order to snap up the really good stuff. Through the years I've picked up vintage buttons, Dave's bought me the best knitting bag, we have found Soviet ceramic tiles, a Muirhead Bone drawing/lithograph from the trenches at Ypres (behind the vase), and dozens of other small pieces.
This week I found this beautiful 1930s vase you see in the photo. It may look a bit naff in the photo, but in real life it has a wonderfully subtle glaze and the flowers have a gentle glow. I fell in love with it the second I saw it, but it was not until I saw a woman pick it up saying "I might get this later.." that I realised that it had to belong to me or it would haunt me as The Vase That Got Away. And so I forked out my £3 and went on my merry way.. It is now sitting in front of the living room fireplace. I absolutely love it.
But sometimes my secondhand purchases get slightly out of hand. Today, in a different secondhand shop, I picked up some 1950s sewing patterns. This is all well and good, except both patterns are for 32" busts and my sewing machine does not work. I am pondering listing them on eBay, so they can go to a good home and I get (some of) my money back. Or I might hang on to them. Because I tend to hang on to things.
A few links to tide things over until I finish some projects/we have enough light for decent photos/anything to happen:
- The Language of Fashion - do crafters/DIYers use a different set of words to professionals?
- Do Typefaces Really Matter? - yes, they really do and I once wrote 106 pages about that. Good times.
- Weaving In Ends as You Knit - blog post in Norwegian but with instructive photos.
- Skirt Week - Inspirational Links to free sewing projects of the skirty kind.
- My Fault, I'm Female - stories of women who've been made to feel it's their fault that they are female at work, at home, or wherever.
- DK: KNIT - the Danish Cultural Institute, Edinburgh, is hosting an exhibition on new knitwear from Kolding Design Academy. I'm going!
- Crowded House makes frontpage on Metafilter. I rejoice despite not liking their new album.
Next up: dinner. Slow roasted pork shoulder in jerk sauce with baby potatoes and a fresh garden salad. Rainy days always make me eager to cook proper food.