Knitty First Fall 2013, Issue 13: A Review

Knitty has released their First Fall 2013, Issue 13. Let's have a look at it, shall we?

This is the Sinnesfrid Vest, and it's a good, wearable, useful piece that can be worn on its own or over a number of pieces in the average woman's wardrobe, although it's not showing to advantage here. It is perhaps a half-size too small for this model (who is also the designer), and I can't say I think those buttons are doing it any favours.

The Arguyle gansey pullover is a classic men's sweater with a bit of a twist in that the designer has incoporated an argyle pattern in it. I like it — way to marry two knitting traditions from neighbouring geographic regions.

The Vertical Ridge vest design grew out of the designer's frustration with the inevitable horizontal lines in hand-dyed yarns. I like the concept very much, and the yarn is beautiful, the texture interesting, and the piece carefully shaped, but it does seem to need a little something, such as front fastenings, to give it a little more style.

I love the Lewis pullover. It's simple yet has great detail, it should be comfortable and flattering for most women, and a woman can wear it with jeans and a t-shirt or over a camisole and trousers to the office.

The Jackaroo cardigan is a nice little piece. The designer intended that it should be the perfect fall cardigan that to just slip on over everything, and it is indeed that kind of jacket. The cropped sleeve length won't suit every woman as well as it does the designer, but they're easily lengthened.

This is the Canoe pullover. It's not bad, but it's just so bland and basic, and it does have that just-above-the-elbow sleeve length that doesn't flatter anyone. There's just nothing at all that's distinctive about this pattern except the yarn that was used, and a beautiful yarn like this deserves a better setting.

The Squirrels hat is really cute and well-rendered. It made me laugh that there are also acorns on the adult version.

The Rabbitty pattern is really cute and they're intended as a "stash-busting" project, so they'll be an inexpensive toy to whip up for baby showers. I find the bulging eyes a little disturbing, but one could easily make them smaller or just embroider the eyes instead.

I quite like the Sugar Stick cowl pattern. The twisty bands colour motifs lend themselves well to an item that's meant to be worn twisted.

The QRkey scarf is a good-looking item, with a geeky payoff: those codes on either side can be scanned to read "My Scarf" and "Love Mom", and there are instructions included in the pattern for creating your own code if neither of those appeal to you. I'm so impressed by this innovation that even if there were anything else to criticize in this pattern (there isn't), I don't think I could.

The Glitz at the Ritz shawl is nice enough. I like the beads. Don't take my lack of enthusiasm to mean that there's anything wrong with this pattern, because there isn't. I've just seen so many shawl patterns that I'm hard to impress.

The Peri's Paradox shawl is very nice. The basketweave stitch would be a challenging one for a delicate shawl, because it's not an elegant texture, but this designer seems to have done very well with it. I like the teardrop shapes at the border.

The Solidago socks are cute, although if I were making them I wouldn't include both the coloured heel and toe with the fair isle ankle pattern, as I don't think they quite work together.

Very much like the Matsudana socks. I especially like that the lace pattern at the ankle doesn't continue over the foot, because I find lace patterned socks can get a little chafe-y on the feet.

The Flying Geese socks are based on a traditional quilt pattern of the same name, but the first thing I thought when I saw them was that they resembled a pair in a very old sock pattern book I have that has a set of smaller triangles on the ankle. Everything old can be made new again.

Legwarmers are baaaaaack. Or so I'm told, and the Nozky legwarmers are at least one piece of evidence that they are. I actually don't mind this pattern. I appreciate that they're so well crafted and not baggy, and they're very well styled in these photos. But I tend to follow that "if you were old enough to wear a trend the last time it was in, don't wear it this time" rule, and while I think legwarmers can be quite fetching on little girls, teenagers and very young women, at my age I'll be giving this reborn fad a pass, and sticking to the kind of legwarmers that are always in style; they're called pants.

Franklin Habit's Moufles Marque d'amour (or "Love Token Mittens") design is based an old design from Sajou, a nineteenth-century French needlework company. The mittens are pretty and the accompanying article is as funny and worthwhile a read as Franklin Habit's articles always are.

The Vino fingerless mitts are a nice design. You won't get the uncomfortable gap between coat sleeve and mitten in these, though you might get cold fingers. Sorry, I can never resist snarking on fingerless mittens, though I know they have their uses.

The Ginger + Wasabi pattern is a very basic glove pattern knitted up in two colours (yes, only two). If you don't care for this particular colour pairing you can easily come up with your own.

I very much like the Adventure Rucksack, and as someone whose current backpack is on its last legs, got all excited about possibly making myself one until I remembered why my backpack is disintegrating: because I stuff groceries and knitting and books and my laptop and all kinds of other stuff into it (oh and at 14, it's nearly as old as the teenaged designer of these rucksacks). Knitted backpacks won't stand up to that kind of abuse, but for more casual purposes such as holding the kind of things that ordinarily go into a shoulder bag (i.e., a wallet, lunch, a notebook or novel), these would be fine, and they look really good.

Hitting the Beach With and In Your Knitting

Almost a month ago, I traumatized followers of the Facebook page for this blog by sharing this 1922 photo of a dripping wet Winston Churchill in a knitted bathing suit. I'm including it in this post to make sure all my readers see it, because that's the kind of blogger I am. Now that you've seen it (and can't unsee it), you know how it was that Churchill could vow so stirringly and memorably to "fight them on the beaches". The man knew whereof he spoke.

Slightly more seriously, the sight of this picture got me interested in knitted bathing suits, and after a little research to decide to do a post on knitted swimwear, which of course had to lead with that picture of Churchill. In this post I'm going to stick to the knitted bathing suits of the 1900-1960 period rather than include the more contemporary ones. Although there are plenty of knitted and crocheted bathing suit and bikini and monokini (don't ask) patterns available, believe it or not I found the Google results for "knitted swimsuits" more scarring than the sight of our Winston fighting them on the beaches. Too many of them look like they should be accompanied by a coordinating pattern for a stripper pole cosy, is what I'm saying. Although admittedly there are some really cute ones out there. I might do a post on contemporary knitted swimwear at some later date. But for now, let's delve into the evolution of knitted swimwear during the first half of the twentieth century.

Swimsuits were generally made from wool until the mid-1930s, because wool will keep a swimmer warm even when wet. When swimwear companies began manufacturing some suits out of the then newly invented elastic materials that were the predecessors of lycra and spandex in the thirties, swimwear manufacturers continued to incorporate some form of elastic into wool bathing suits, but the use of wool in commercially made swimwear steadily declined to nearly nil over the next two decades. The Vintage Fashion Guild has a pretty good, brief run down of the history of swimwear if you're interested in the topic.

Let's look at the typical swimwear by decade.





These are typical swimsuits from 1900, or as they would have been called, "bathing costumes". Neither are hand-knitted but both are wool. At the turn of the 20th century, women swam in not only dresses and bloomers but in wool stockings and canvas-soled shoes and also some kind of head covering: a scarf, a mobcap, or a hat. Though today we'd never dream of trying to swim in all that clothing, much less in shoes, these costumes probably seemed freeing and even daring to people used to wearing much more fabric in their daily costumes. At least until they were soaking wet.





A man and two young girls in their swimsuits in 1915. As you can see, bathing costumes haven't changed a lot in 15 years, though the man's pant legs are now past his knees, and for the women, sleeves may be shorter and the skirt is now optional. The black stockings are still required for women.





In 1910 a company named the Portland Knitting Company began producing knitted swimwear on sweater cuff machines and daringly offering them in their catalogues. In 1918 the Portland Knitting Company became the Jantzen Knitting Mills. These Jantzen swimsuits, which likely date from about 1920, look much more practical than any of their predecessors, though even so they could weigh as much as nine pounds when wet. Men's and women's bathing suits looked very similar all through the twenties, with the exception that women were still wearing stockings with their bathing suits well into the twenties, though they were no longer full length but could show the knee. The police patrolled the beaches and measured women's suits to be sure they weren't more than nine inches above the kneecap. Even men could be charged with public obscenity for baring their chests.





Three women's bathing suits from the early 1920s. The swimsuits of the twenties weren't all in black by any means. How cute is that navy and yellow number? I'd wear that now in a slightly longer version, as a dress. All three of these designs could easily be worn today over a swimsuit, as beach cover-ups.

As the twenties wore on, the top of the bathing suit became skimpier and more fitted overall, with lower necklines and thinner straps. The upper part of the suit became cut-away or racer back for the men, and manufacturers began to attach the trunk to the top part of women's suits.

This picture is of Marlene Dietrich and her daughter Maria Reiner on the beach in 1928, with Dietrich sporting the typical 1920s bathing suit. She's carrying it off much better than Winston Churchill, but then she's accessorized her look like the consummate performing artist she was, she isn't soaking wet, and oh yeah, she's Marlene fucking Dietrich.





This is a knitted swimsuit pattern from the 1930s. The skirt has become a "modesty panel" over the legs, and the stockings are finally gone. This pattern is available for free on Ravelry.





During the 1930s, it very gradually became acceptable for men to go bare-chested on beaches. This is a swimsuit from this transitional phase, made with a "topper" that was fastened to the trunks with a zipper, giving the wearer the option of taking it off.





These three patterns are for authentic thirties-era women's bathing suits, republished in A Stitch in Time: v. 1: Vintage Knitting & Crochet Patterns 1920-1949, by Jane Waller and Susan Crawford. You can get a better look at and more details about these patterns on their respective pattern pages on Ravelry.





In the 1940s, men's swim trunks became standard. In women's swimwear, the modesty panel was removed from their suits (though of course it's still possible to buy a panelled or skirted bathing suit even today), and the two-piece bathing suit was introduced. The pattern for the blue and white striped one-piece is available for free on Ravelry. The man's swimming trunk pattern can be bought here in the event that you really want it, but I trust that you don't want it. Knitted swimwear for men just isn't a good idea. I can't be thankful enough that at least that pattern is belted and would have stayed up when wet.





Swimwear in the 1950s didn't look all that different from that of the 1940s, as the one-piece suit had more or less reached the form it still has today. The two-piece suit did gain some ground and become a little smaller, though it wouldn't become the bikini until the sixties. These swimsuits are from the June 1957 issue of Everywoman's magazine which offered the patterns in its pages, and I would totally wear them if I could be sure they wouldn't sag to my knees once they got wet.

If you'd like to try creating your own vintage swimwear, you might like to check out The Retro Knitting Company or Vintage Visage for patterns. There also do seem to be a number of vintage bathing suits, such as those made by Jantzen, on eBay.

I don't believe I'll be knitting anything for the beach but a cover-up or beach dress myself. There's a reason why swimsuits aren't made with wool any more, and as much as I love vintage styles, I expect my vintage-style creations to have the comfort, practicality, and convenience of contemporary clothing design. If you decide to try knitting your own swimwear, please feel free to tell us about us in the comments, though I must ask you to please use some discretion when it comes to linking to pictures of you modelling your creations, fabulous as I am sure you look in them.

Petite Purls, Issue 15: A Review

Petite Purls has released its fifteenth issue. Get ready for some cuteness!

The Baddies pattern is for monster and robot crocheted beanie dolls. Which are weighted so that they'll pop right back up when punched. These look perfect for the kind of small child who needs safe channels for his or her aggression. I totally would have made one or both of these for my nephew when he was little if I'd had the pattern. His preferred method of greeting me from the time he could walk until he was about five was to run towards me giggling happily when he saw me, just like his sisters did... but instead of holding his arms up to be picked up and hugged as they would, he'd wrap one arm around my legs and pound joyously on my kneecaps with his other fist.

Knit Kid and Purl Girl are only 1.5 inches tall, so make sure you have the patience to work on that scale. Then again even if it turns out you don't have the patience, at that size you may finish before you know it. I wouldn't be too inclined to make these as designed. They're really for knitters, not children, and many adults don't care for stuffed toys. If I knew a child who loved tiny toys, I'd consider making them as generic superheroes. I do like that they're of both genders.

The Halftone Hat was inspired by city skylines illustrations in comic books. This is a hat you make specifically for a child who loves superhero comic books.

The esoteric comic book appeal of some of these designs has been a little lost on me so far, but even I get the appeal of the Onomatopoeia sweater. It's funny and cute on its own merits, and reminds me of the screen captions that used to point up the fight scenes in the sixties Batman TV show, in which the arch criminal's henchmen used to just stand helplessly about, waiting to be punched or have their heads knocked comically together.

Super Suzy is totally cute, and I'd rather make an empowering friend like her than yet another princess or fairy doll.

The Wristbands of Fury would probably be great for a child who loves Wonder Woman and needs to deflect imaginary bullets, and who could use a pair of fingerless gloves.

The Wonder-ific set is really more of a toy than wearable, but wouldn't take long to make compared to the hours of fun a child who liked them would have in them. And of course they must be worn with a cape at all times.

Like the Halftone Hat above, the Bricklayer Hoodie is based on comic book illustrations, this time of buildings in comic books. And it's a cute design, but I would rejig the pattern to make the placket lie closed in front, and possibly add buttons, a zipper or a leather lacing. Even superheroes shouldn't expose their chests in chilly weather.

The Super Stealth Gloves make me smile. Some of these designs feel too meta, as though they are more the kind of thing that adults think children will enjoy than something a kid will really relate to, but I can easily imagine a child having a lot of fun with these. Don't be surprised if your child spends the entirety of say, your next trip to the grocery store reporting back to the Hall of Justice.

I'm not sure I really get the appeal of the Superpants design. At sizes running from newborn to two years, they're for children too small to understand the concept of superheroics, and they're not really all that appealing to adults. To me the orange shorts look like diaper pants worn over pants, and the green legs as though they're supposed to be skin rather than tights, which are both unsettling thoughts in their ways. I think I might like it better done in another colour and worn with a matching sweater that would complete the look. The pants on their own look a little random and unfinished.

One Small, Knitted Step in the Right Direction

When Raquell Guimaraes, a Brazilian fashion designer, needed to boost production for her clothing line and couldn't find the skilled workers she needed, she turned to prison inmates at the Ariosvaldo Campos Pires. The prisoners were taught to knit and crochet and made Guimaraes's designs for export abroad. In return they received 75% of the minimum wage in Brazil and one day off their prison sentence for every three days they spent knitting. Twenty-five percent of the money the prisoners earn is set aside for them to have the day they are freed from prison. The program has been in existence since 2009, employs about 20 prisoners, and seems to have been a success.

I've written about knitting in prison before, when I posted about knitting classes in a Maryland prison back in December 2012. Since then I've learned a little more about vocational and educational programs in prison, and penal system budget allocation. I do think knitting programs such as the Maryland prison knitting class and the Ariosvaldo Campos Pires knitting shop are successes, but rather than advocate specifically for more knitting programs in prison, I would like to see more educational and vocational programs in prisons in general, and to see them tailored to suit current workforce requirements. Knitting is a wonderful hobby but, realistically, it won't lead to livelihoods for very many prisoners. It won't pay a living wage and no one's hands will stand up to the stresses of knitting 40 hours a week for very long. It can certainly be one of the skills taught in prison, but shouldn't be the only one or the most emphasized.

Many prison inmates lack any real education or job skills. My research tells me that something in the neighbourhood of 60-70% of prison inmates in Canada, U.S., and the U.K. are functionally illiterate, and that educational and vocational programs are the best tools we have for ensuring that prisoners will lead a productive and lawful life once they finish their sentences. Prisoners are often avid to learn new skills, because they're so bored and miserable that even things they would normally never have considered, such as training seeing eye dogs or translating books into Braille, sound like an attractive option, and then once they know how to do something useful that they enjoy doing, they want to keep doing it. And yet, at least in the U.S., only something like 5% of prison budgets is spent on such programs, and they are the first things to go during budget cuts. This NPR article on California's Folsom Prison is interesting if you'd like to learn more about this matter.

According to this New Yorker article, there there are now more people under “correctional supervision” in the U.S. (more than six million) than were in the Gulag Archipelago under Stalin at its height. Canada has only about 38,000 people in custody, but our penal system is only an improvement on that of the U.S. in terms of scale, not in nature — our recidivism rates seem to be just as high, and Canadian prisons have a worse record than that of the U.S. in certain other issues. Over 90% of North American prisoners will go back to prison once released unless they are taught the job and life skills and given the mental health and substance abuse treatments they need to be useful, self-supporting members of society. Helping prisoners to lead better lives would not only be the humane thing to do and make our society safer, but would also save us an astounding amount of tax dollars... and yet it isn't happening.

No one listens to prisoners or ex-prisoners, and the prison service industry has a vested interest in maintaining the status quo. It's up to the general population of a society to work towards and insist upon a penal system reform. Knitting classes or workshops involving 20 men each are wonderful and heart-warming to read about, but they are only a tiny step in the right direction.

Coming up: Look for the Petite Purls Issue 15 review tomorrow.

One-Man Game Changers and Other Knitting Fables

Ridge desperately hoped that if he could look all manly and brooding and show off his chiselled profile even in acrylic orange and blue sweaters, he had a good shot at breaking into the Marlboro Man job. Or at least for getting modelling jobs that would allow him to wear his belt in the belt loops of his trousers. At this point he wasn't all that picky.





Garrett tried to make his fixed grimace look as much like a pleasant smile as possible, and to distract himself from how hot and itchy his crocheted caftan was making him, he wondered what the hell Ridge the belted sweater model ever thought he had to bitch about.





Melissa was proud of the dress and sweater she'd made for herself and her boyfriend Larry (which made them match not only each other but their refrigerator), but didn't quite know how to tell Larry that when the Nair commercials challenged viewers to dare wear short shorts, they weren't talking to him. And also that she didn't want him wearing that stupid hat.





Sometimes the guys from the curling club liked to dress up in their matching variegated yarn sweaters, get together for some brewskis, and secretly wonder why they had no luck with chicks.





Troy knew Ashley was trying to send him some message by making him this sweater and playing "You Don't Bring Me Flowers" at top volume and on repeat, but he couldn't figure out what it was exactly, and he wished she'd just come out with it.





Kevin had always hated that menswear basically only came in a few subdued colours and had set out to be a one-man game changer. His friends told him, dude, he could do whatever he wanted, but his game was going to remain one-man.





"Hi Grandma. Yes, I borrowed your lucky sweater when I left this morning. Yeah, I know I should have told you when you've got that podiatrist appointment today, but I had a big important meeting coming up and needed the extra insurance. Look, if you'd get your varicose veins treated you wouldn't need to coordinate your wardrobe to them. No, they don't think this sweater is "too feminine" at the office. Are you saying I'm too feminine? That's not very good for my self-esteem. That's better. Yes, I do have great hair. I'll be home at six as usual, Grandma. Yes, I'll stop and pick up some of that special dog food Baby Girl likes. Fifteen minutes after six then. Love you bunches too!"





Even the deer made fun of Chet when he went out hunting in the "New Wave Camouflage Jacket" that he'd designed, but he figured that was the price one paid for being cutting edge and secure as a rock in his masculinity.





Willie was sure that the matching Golliwog sweaters were the perfect look for him and his family to wear to his local KKK chapter's family picnic the next weekend: fun, light-hearted, matching. He wanted his family to set a new tone for the chapter, to help them all move past the burning crosses and lynchings, and to demonstrate that one could be a kinder, gentler, yet still equally offensive kind of racist.





Jude's mother had offered to teach him to knit many times, but he scorned such petty bourgeois pastimes and instead wore a pile of yarn when attending political demonstrations in chilly weather.

The Weather Outside is Never as Frightful as This

This pattern is the "Fur Trimmed Helmet and Mittens", and appeared in the Good Housekeeping Needlecraft, Fall-Winter 1973-74 issue. For those women who have decided that an unholy marriage of a fright wig and an argyle vest is a fetching winter look. Or who just want some random hunter to put them out of their misery by mistaking them for an elk.

Is it just me or were the craft ideas in the housekeeping-type magazines from the fifties through the seventies routinely horrible? It makes me wonder if maybe it wasn't some sort of stealth campaign on the part of Betty Friedan and her ilk to make frustrated housewives to look up from their magazines, pause in the middle of reaching for their next gin and tonic and Quaalude and say to themselves, "Screw this! If I can't find anything better to do than make ugly useless crap, I'm going to get a job/go to grad school/volunteer for a worthwhile cause/leave my husband for the pool boy." Because it seems to me that the sight of patterns like this, in a context that implied that they were actually a good and desirable use of my time, would propel me into a epiphany more searing and profound than any number of back-to-back readings of The Feminine Mystique.