New Old Knitting

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I was absolutely convinced I’d blogged about this last summer, but apparently not! Anyway, way back in July or August, my friend Chris sent me a parcel full of knitting patterns. Some I kept, some I passed on to my Mum, but the one that really stood out to me was this one. A probably-1960s raglan cardigan, with a smart cable detail, that should fit over the top of the 1950s dresses I’d been making at the time. One of the problems with new knitting patterns, even vintage-style ones, is that they tend to be very fitted. When you’ve got a dress or a blouse with quite wide sleeves, you need a roomier cardigan to go over the top!

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Image © Victoria & Albert Museum

The pattern calls for 18 ounces of double knitting yarn, in my size. That translates to roughly 525 grams, which seemed a little on the light side. I wanted to check on the yardage in those 18 ounces, as it varies from yarn to yarn, and I wanted to make sure I’d have enough. The yardage wasn’t stated in the pattern, so I went online to have a look. I didn’t find much in the way of helpful information, as it turned out – although the V&A do have this lovely shade chart. Remember those? I used to love choosing wool with my Mum, from the little tufty shade charts that she used to keep in the sideboard. Wouldn’t it be nice to have those again now, so that we could see what we were getting before we ordered online?

Anyway, I digress.

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What I did find, eventually, was this. The exact wool called for in the pattern, a grand total of 18 ounces, all in the same dye lot, and in absolutely perfect condition! And to top it off, a rummage in the button stash turned up the perfect set. I still can’t believe the serendipity of it!

The thing I still don’t know, sadly, is the yardage of each of those tiny one ounce balls of wool. It’s not stated on the label, so the only thing I can do now is unravel one, and measure it. I might also, for the first time in my knitting life, actually make a gauge swatch and measure that too. Given that I have precisely the amount of yarn called for, I can’t even entertain the possibility of running out. After all, it’s not as though I can pop down to the shops and buy some more!

To shop, or not to shop


Image © Zara

Yesterday I went shopping, and did not buy this silk blouse with hot air balloons and air ships all over it from Zara. I also did not buy two tops with skulls on them from H&M, and a pair of Thundercats Converse from Schuh.

I did buy four pairs of stripy over-the-knee socks, and a bright yellow skirt.

Yellow wool skirt

It’s calf length, 75% wool 25% nylon, fully lined, with pockets in the side seams. Smells a little bit of mothballs now I’ve ironed it (yes, believe it or not I did iron it before I took this picture – clearly not hard enough!), but that’s nothing that a little wash won’t fix. And it shows that somebody’s bothered to look after it. The label says “Yessica” which, if memory serves, is 1980s C&A. It cost a grand total of £6, from the Sue Ryder shop.

I have a sneaky suspicion that this skirt will sit in my wardrobe (along with the tweedy one I bought in May) and be relegated to “vaguely Steampunk dressing-up”. Which would be sad, as it’s a really lovely skirt, great quality, and with details that I really like.

So, why buy the skirt that won’t get worn, and not the blouse that will?

I’ve been trying very hard not to buy mass-produced things from chain stores this year. The biggest exception has been my ever-increasing collection of TM Lewin shirts, but I think I’ve got enough now to last me a good few years. (She says, having just looked at the website and seen a purple flowery one, and a blue one with birds… both reduced from £85 to £20… argh!)

So whilst the hot air balloon blouse is lovely, and silk, and would in fact look great with this yellow skirt… and the skull tops from H&M were just generally awesome (I’m still a sucker for anything with skulls on it)… and the Thundercats Converse were hilarious… they’re all mass-produced, fast fashion, and designed to be disposable. And I don’t want that from my clothes any more.

I’d always thought I wasn’t one to worry about what other people thought of my clothes (see: yellow coat, silly prints, bow ties, gold boots, pink hair, Being A Goth), but I think part of my reluctance to wear skirts like this and my tweedy one is the fear that people might look at me funny. I had a teacher at middle school (anyone remember Mrs Trubshaw?) who was widely ridiculed for wearing unusual clothes, including an a-line skirt with a forest design appliqued round the hem, which a) I would now kill for, and b) was probably actually quite fashionable in the mid 1980s. As kids, we were absolutely horrible to her, and I’m basically afraid of being treated the same way. Which is silly really, because if I coped with people shouting at me in the street when my hair was pink, I’m sure I can deal with a few sideways glances at a yellow skirt.

Perhaps one of my resolutions for 2013 should be to stop falling back into the comfortable trap of jeans and t-shirts, and start putting more effort into wearing the clothes that I really love.