The Mount Everest of Knitting Patterns

A friend of mine recently flipped me a link to a book called Sweater Quest: My Year of Knitting Dangerously, by Adrienne Martini, the story of Martini's year-long effort to knit the Mary Tudor design from Alice Starmore's Tudor Roses, a book of fair isle patterns published in 1998. (ETA: Tudor Roses was out of print at the time of this post but has since been updated and re-released.) Martini calls the Mary Tudor pattern, pictured above on the front cover of Tudor Roses, a "knitter’s Mount Everest, our curse, and our compulsion". It's true that for Martini, this sweater was a personal Mount Everest because it was the most complex and largest-scale project she'd ever undertaken, but I wouldn't describe this pattern as the everyknitter's Mount Everest.

For one thing, the Mount Everest metaphor is more nuanced than Martini may realize. Let's remember that climbing Mount Everest is not considered the pinnacle of human achievement it once was. These days, with the technological advances in climbing gear, it's quite possible for any able-bodied, hardy, and reasonably fit person who has the time and the money to climb it. Mount Everest has been successfully climbed over 5000 times since Sir Edmund Hillary was the first to climb it in 1953, including climbs by one 13-year-old, one 76-year-old, and one blind climber. One person has climbed it 20 times and one couple got married on the summit. One of Sir Edmund Hillary's grandsons climbed it and called his grandfather from the top with his cell phone. Sir Hillary himself never considered climbing Mount Everest to be the most important or worthwhile thing he did in his life, and was appalled by what he saw as contemporary climbers' prioritization of reaching the top over the welfare of other climbers in distress.

When I look at the Mary Tudor design, I don't see a pattern requiring the greatest possible level of knitting skill, or the ultimate achievement in design, or a pattern that must be knitted because it exists, as a "Mount Everest of knitting patterns" designation would seem to imply. What I see is a beautiful and richly patterned design that represents a major time investment, and that I would reshape completely in order to make flattering. Oversized, shapeless sweaters have gone out of style since the nineties, and for excellent reason.

Learning about Martini's book led me to wonder if there was a world's most difficult knitting pattern, and to do a little internet research on the matter. I found discussion questions on Ravelry and some other knitting sites that asked, "What, in your opinion, is the most difficult knitting pattern?", with resulting threads full of links to patterns that were undeniably going to be time consuming, but that otherwise didn't look all that difficult or challenging to me. When I googled the phrases "most difficult knitting pattern" and "hardest knitting pattern", wherever the phrase occurred on the net it was usually followed by another phrase along the lines of "that I have ever attempted" or "that I have tackled so far". And that's very telling.

The truth is that once a knitter gets to a certain level of experience and skill, no pattern looks all that difficult, and knitting patterns simply vary widely in terms of time investment required. Once you've done more advanced knitting techniques such as stranded knitting, cables, fair isle, steeking, entrelac, double knitting, intarsia, lace work, knitting in the round, Swiss darning, knitting smocking, thrumming, etc., the prospect of doing them doesn't faze you any more. And even if you haven't tried all of those techniques (I have not), once you've successfully mastered a significant selection of them, you know you can always learn the others. Just as strangers are friends (or spouses, or employers, or hot pig sex partners, or neighbours, or tax auditors) whom you haven't yet met, knitting patterns simply represent potential uses of your time and possible future possessions/gifts. Once you lose the beginner's fear of the untried and you have enough experience to know what you're committing to, you'll wind up doing a cost and time benefit analysis and conclude, "Ugly, no way!" or "Nice, but not for or on me," or "Nice, and won't take long," or "Beautiful, and will take a lot of time but it'll be worth it," or "Fabulous but too time-intensive; maybe some day...", or "GORGEOUS AND A HUGE TIME SUCK BUT I MUST DO IT ERE I PERISH." There's no Mount Everest of knitting patterns. There are, rather, marathon knitting projects, and it's a marathon you can do at your own pace because no one's clocking you.

I hope that "difficult" knitting patterns ceased, or will cease, to intimidate you fairly early in your knitting experience, and also that you will regard knitting patterns as your servant and not your master. If you've read any of the knitting pattern reviews posts on this blog, you'll know that I suggest tweaks to almost every pattern. I hardly ever knit any pattern exactly as written. There is that rare case when I come across a pattern I consider perfect — perfect in this context meaning "perfect for me/the wearer". If a pattern you love on paper isn't going to work for your figure, colouring, personal aesthetic preferences, lifestyle, climate, or fashion era once knitted, then for heaven's sake change it. Alter it for fit, change the neckline or the silhouette, use three colours instead of twenty or twenty instead of three, substitute cotton for wool or scarlet for gray, or borrow different features of several different patterns to get the look you want.

Designers aren't gods whose every direction must be reverenced and followed to the letter. They make mistakes, there can be a lot of room for improvement in their results, their work can become dated, and in any case they weren't designing especially for you. Unless you are a textile artist making a piece of installation art, you want a finished garment you can wear the hell out of, not something that will sit uselessly in a drawer after you've invested your valuable time and money in it. You can be your own designer, and if you don't feel your skill level is equal to the task of rewriting a pattern to be what you want it to be, ask more experienced knitters for advice, or shelve the project until you're ready to bring it on.

And take a lesson from Adrienne Martini's experience. She spent an entire year of her life making her Mary Tudor sweater in slavish adherence to Starmore's directions, even to the point of resorting to buying the specific yarn required for it on the "black yarn market" because it wasn't being produced any more. With the result that (as I gather from the Amazon reader reviews), she had finished the sweater only to discover the sleeves were too short and that she would never wear it because she didn't like the way she looked in it. Don't let your compulsion to make a project and to reach the summit of completion blind you to more important considerations, such as whether the item you're making will be of any use once you've finished it. In short, have a martini; don't be one.

Knit Simple Spring 2013: A Review

Knit Simple has published their Spring 2013 issue. Let's have a look at the 30 patterns in it.




We begin well! I like this lacy cardigan. It's classic and simple yet distinctive and will flatter most women.






I'll review these together since the same comment applies to both: these are nice but generic lace shawls. You could find something much more striking and interesting if you cared to look further for a pattern, or you could make these and just have a simple little shawl that will serve you well enough.




This is quite an interesting and effective lace scarf.




Another really generic item. I don't think I'd recommend this one. It's so basic as to not even look quite finished.




I don't know why anyone would wear fingerless gloves in spring time. Perhaps the designer of this pair din't know either, and consequently designed them to cover as little of the hands as possible — notice how short they are at the wrists and how they cover just the base of the fingers. These are "barely there" fingerless gloves. And they're fine for what they are, I suppose, but I'd recommend "not there at all" fingerless gloves for spring.




This "textured tank" isn't bad. It's got some visual interest and is a standard-fitting, reasonably flattering item. You'll probably have to wear something underneath though.




Here we have... a tunic-length tank or camisole that you wear over a complete outfit. I'd be inclined to raise the neckline and lengthen the skirt so it could be called a dress. It would look pretty and serve a purpose as a dress. As a tunic camisole it just looks like something made by the model's mother and that the model dutifully worked into a cobbled-together outfit for her Mother's Day appearance at her mother's home. She bought some flowers for her too.




Flattering, serviceable and even rather interesting top. I find the sleeve length a little awkward, but it'll be easy to just make them whatever length you want.




Knit Simple, a scarf stitched together does not a vest make. Not that this is terrible. It's actually fairly wearable, a cute item that could be popped over a little summer dress, but the bottom looks rough and unfinished and needed some finishing detail in order to make this design a success.




Not a bad little lace top.




I keep looking at all that extra width around the body and the wrist and wondering why on earth the designer thought it necessary to put it in. It's going to add to the midsection of anyone who wears it, and "will add to your midsection" is not exactly a selling point for a sweater. Notice how the model is standing, with her legs wide apart, in an effort to balance out the proportions of the sweater. Given that women pretty much never stand that way and you are probably not interested in beginning to do so, I'd recommend changing the lines of this sweater to a standard fit. The lacy detail at the wrist and the ballet neckline will make this sweater look interesting and graceful all on their own.




This isn't bad. Again that's a lot of fullness through the hips, but at least the top is more fitted and the fullness is lower on the body, which makes it skirt-like rather than maternity top-like, and gives it a better silhouette over all. As always... stay away from the empire cut if you're well-endowed.




I'm not crazy about this one but it's not bad either. I like the effect of the ribbed yoke and the garter stitch stripes. I'd fix the dropped shoulders and neaten up the fit somewhat.




I initially thought this mesh top might be crocheted, but it isn't. I'm not a fan of mesh, which always requires layers. And you can get sunburnt right through it. Also this isn't a very flattering shape.




I quite like this tote, with its simple yet eye-catching design. It looks well-constructed and has a good shape. These colours don't work that well together, but you can choose whatever colours you like.




I'm not crazy about this crocheted bag, with its weirdly placed straps and dumpy bucket shape. The old term "sad sack" comes to mind.




I don't like this bag either, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a Canadian who wouldn't be interested in making an American flag anything. It isn't a good shape. It would be awkward to carry this, and you can see the straps are pulling the top out of shape even in this picture.




A cellphone case. It's not bad. The yarn choice isn't great — the crudity of the colour is making the pattern look less polished than it actually is.





This isn't a bad little duffel bag. It looks like the perfect bag for the beach, though I have my doubts as to how it would stand up to anything heavier than a swimsuit, towel, sunscreen, and a trashy novel.




Do you really want to go to all the effort of making this pattern, only to look like you've rolled your yoga mat up in a piece of your grandmother's afghan?



Cute little vest! It's so simple a not-very-experienced knitter could make it for a second or third project, and yet it looks polished.




There are cuter, better-designed bunny hats than this one. Remember: this child model is being paid to look like she likes this.




There are also much better-designed girl's tops. I tend to cringe a little when I see kids in homemade items that are poorly made or poorly designed. It's one thing if you want to go out in the world in your beginner project that you're so proud of, but sending your child off to school in one is a different matter. You don't have that Lord of the Flies-inspired social experiment called recess to worry about. Try to be objective.




Are legwarmers really back for girls? And if they are, shouldn't they actually match something else the girl is wearing?




This is called the "Chanel-Inspired Cardi". I'm pretty sure that if Coco Chanel were to look at this, she'd take one look, let loose with a vehement, Mon Dieu, c'est quoi ça?!?!, and then fire someone. A knitted Chanel-style cardigan isn't a bad concept, but this one with its novelty yarn trim, retina-burning lilac shade and beginner project use of the garter stitch line just looks tacky. I'd like to see a Chanelesque cardigan done in more finished, sophisticated way.




This top is another bad use of novelty yarn. Which, as I keep saying in these reviews, is difficult to employ in design without it degrading the whole piece. The ruffled yarn on the sleeves are just too prominent and visually add to the width of the model's body. It isn't a flattering look at all. It doesn't help that the rest of the top is so squarish.




Another effort to use ruffled yarn, and another bad result. This looks like a piece of trimming ripped off a Rose Bowl parade float. I notice the stylist didn't even try to come up with an outfit that went with it.




Hoo boy. Usually if there's any use to which one can put a novelty yarn and have it work, it's a skinny scarf. But here we have a skinny scarf knitted in Filatura di Crosa's Ibiza, and again it looks like something ripped off a Rose Bowl parade float. Except this time half the trimming stayed attached to the float.




Not crazy about this shrug. Knitwear designs are just not supposed to look like converted afghans. No knitting project should look like an afghan but an afghan.

This Yarn Bomber's Knitting Needles Have a Political Point

This protestor, photographed outside the White House on March 11, hand-knitted a pie chart representing the allocation of the U.S. budget. It pains me to have to say this, but the pie chart's proportions aren't accurate: the U.S. spends about 20% of its total yearly budget on defense (plus another 3.5% on benefits to veterans), not more than half, as this chart indicates. And aesthetically, the execution of this project could have been better. But as a concept, this yarn bombing idea is kick ass, and this knitter made it happen and displayed it in front of the White House, instead of say, typing uselessly about it on some knitting blog.





But wait! There's more! This knitter also made herself an "Occupy Grandparents" afghan and a "Stop XL" hat that is likely a statement of opposition to the Keystone XL pipeline.

I'm almost afraid to ask what she'd do with a cowl and fingerless glove design.

Photos via Jennifer Bendery.


Coming up: Look for the Knit Simple Spring 2013 review tomorrow morning!

The Last Knit

This is Kutoja: The Last Knit, an animated short about the perils of knitting obsession, as written, directed and animated by Laura Neuvonen. Please put down your knitting long enough to enjoy this video so you don't miss any of it.

Oh never mind, who am I kidding....

Knitty Spring/Summer 2013: A Review

Let's have a look at Knitty's Spring/Summer 2013 issue.




Pretty if generic Foliolum lace scarf.





The Nori is another lace scarf, but this time with a more distinctive texture. The designer compares it to algae. I can see it.





Another scarf, this time with a quite original construction. It's called the Steps Shawl, but it reminds me of piano keys. It doesn't really do it for me, but it's not unattractive either, and it does draw the eye.





The Lunatic Fringe Shawl. The blurb for this pattern calls it "eccentric and non-conforming", but it looks pretty run-of-the-mill to me.





The Aven Shawl. I must admit this shawl is eyecatching. Partly because of the gorgeous colours of the yarn, but the ruffled texture is beautiful too. But we are going to see something other than an array of shawls and scarves in this issue, right Knitty? I don't think I can review eighteen scarves without getting a little slaphappy.





Here we have Grey Gardens, which is... an entrelac turban. I'm sorry, but this just looks too hippy dippy for me. Wear this and you've taken the first slide down a slippery slope that will lead to you becoming someone's weird aunt whose idea of the perfect wedding gift for her niece and nephew-in-law is a earthworm farm starter kit and a copy of The Comprehensive Guide to Tantric Sex.





The Easy as Pie Blanket. Oh, I love this pattern. As a matter of fact, I had already shared it on The Knitting Needle and the Damage Done's Facebook page. It's strikingly original in concept and beautifully executed. It isn't easy to make an all-garter stitch project look like anything other than a beginner project, but occasionally a really talented designer takes up the gauntlet (or the lace-patterned fingerless glove, as it were) and does it. I also like to see that this designer has designed a baby blanket in the bright colours that babies like and that are the best for helping to develop their tiny brains, instead of the usual pastels. Babies don't even like yellow.





I am not sure about the Daphne tank. It's high-impact, of course, but maybe not all that flattering — it looks to me like it's making the model's upper body look chopped up and stocky. The colour combination isn't really helping. Contrasting shades of the same colour never look all that attractive together — they fight each other like rival siblings.





The Buttonbox pattern is really good. It's a classic, and yet you feel you haven't seen the exact same pattern a thousand times before because it has an interesting texture and a collar that sits just a little bit differently than any other shawl collar.





The Etherial tank looks to have accomplished what the Daphne tank set out to do without trying half so hard. It's fitted and shows some skin in an elegant, and restrained fashion, rather than in a "everything's in the window, COME LOOK" kind of way. You will probably want to wear something under it, which I find a bit problematic in summer wear when even one layer often feels like too much, but at least it looks good layered over a simple cami tank.





The Gardenias pullover looks like what happened when the designer needed a way to use up the I-cord and a knitted flower she had sitting around and decided she'd add them to the top she'd just made that needed something. And this top did indeed need something, but not I-cord and a knitted flower.





The Shore thing tank is a competent design. It's pretty and fits well and is flattering. Of course, again, who really wants to wear a second layer in summer? It looks okay over the tank shown here, but not so much over the long-sleeved t-shirt in the other pictures on the linked pattern page.





The Dressy sock is quite a pleasing lacy sock pattern, but please do me a favour and don't wear them as they're styled here. Socks simply do not belong with floral dresses and t-strap shoes, regardless of how Knitty names the pattern or styles the picture. The kind of person who will wear this look will also wear entrelac turbans, and I've told you where that will take you.





Love the Slipstream sock pattern — the designer made an intricate pattern look organic — and am relieved to see they're being worn just as one would wear such socks, with jeans.





Not crazy about these Sunberry socklets. I suspect the design is fine, but I am being put off the colours which work but which I don't happen to care for personally, and by the length of the sock. I find bobby-length socks tend to lead to some shoe vs. heel friction issues by the end of the day. Ow.





This Child's Sock is Franklin Habit's re-creation of a pattern from Beeton's Book of Needlework, published in 1870. This is a pattern to look at more as an artefact of knitting history than to actually make. Even Habit admits it wasn't really worth the effort it took to rewrite the pattern, the original being so badly written that, as he puts it,

As you reach the bitter end, you can almost hear the anonymous designer thinking, "Screw it. My corset is killing me, the gin is calling, and it's time to go home." Her instructions give the impression of having been written in haste, without a second thought, maybe after she'd removed the corset and emptied the gin bottle.

Then to the materials list, he adds this note,

You can theoretically get three pairs of these out of one pair of skeins, if you have a lot of little children you hate.

Sometimes I think Franklin Habit owns the whole "funny knitting writing" niche and the rest of us who are trying to do anything along the same lines might as well close up our laptops and get a real job.