Domo on the Runway

In another piece of fashion runway weirdness, we have here a Domo sweater. Domo is the official mascot of Japan's NHK television station.





My favourite thing about Domo is that he got to be world famous via his appearance in this classic internet public service announcement.

I'm sure the Domo sweater is not actually meant to be worn in real life. This model doesn't look too thrilled about wearing it even on the runway, where all the outfits are expected to be at least somewhat fantastical. I see a use for it, however, as one of a great Halloween concept for a couple: one of you goes as Domo in the Domo sweater, while the other goes as the kitten.

Jane Austen Knits, Fall 2012: A Review

Today I offer a review of yet another of Interweave's publications, the latest of the Jane Austen Knits magazines, which to date has had three issues. Can I just say here that I've never quite gotten the Jane Austen cult? I mean, I own a Jane Austen omnibus containing all seven of her novels, and I've read it straight through and enjoyed it, but why such a level of interest in her that P.D. James is writing fan fiction about Pemberley and there's an entire knitting periodical devoted to Jane Austen-inspired designs? I love Edith Wharton and consider her a better and more interesting writer than Austen and you don't see anyone designing a Madame Olenska tiny green monkey muff or Lily Bart suicide negligee. Do I have a point here or am I just disgruntled that no Regency style spencer or empire-waisted anything will ever be other than horribly unflattering on me?

However, now that I've gotten that out of my system, let's have a look at the Jane Austen Knits, Fall 2012 issue.





This is called a Sensible Shawl pattern. It's sensible all right. This is the Plain Jane of knitted shawls. However, it's not ungracefully shaped, it will stay in place and keep you warm, it will knit up quickly and easily, and you can probably find a way to make it work over some of your 2013 outfits. Not every pattern needs to be, or should be, a marvel of design.





The lacings on these Longbourn mitts are going to catch on everything. However, if you're wearing them in the manner in which you probably will (i.e., paired with a warm coat as outdoor wear for making your way from place to place), that probably won't be too much of a problem.





This Delaford wrap is very pretty, although so is every other lace shawl pattern.





This is the Walking to Meryton Bonnet. It's a bit of a stretch to call this a bonnet. I'd call it a tuque, and it's attractive enough for a tuque, if not quite what I might wear if I were hoping to entice some dashing military officer.





This Maiden Fair Blouse, while it has a certain conceptual appeal, is not exactly flattering. It's made this professional model look dumpy. If you want to make this, you'll need to play with the proportions and details. Make the lace section shorter and the stockinette stitch section longer — the empire waist on empire styles should always fall below a woman's bustline. Make the entire top a little longer. Figure out a way to eliminate the hip-widening ruffle on the bottom. Or just find another empire-waisted pattern for a top that already is flattering, and make it instead.





I don't see the connection between these Mistress of Donwell Abbey Socks and anything Jane Austen ever wrote. However, they are very well-designed socks. Love the gusset-like detail on the side and the interesting cables on the ankles.





Either these Prettyish Wilderness Socks look a little more Regency costume with their ladylike ruffles and toe details, or the whole tenuous literary reference thing is getting to me. Anyway, they are cute socks.





This little drawstring Sweetheart Bag is actually very pleasing. I'm thinking it could be made into an evening bag if it were done in some evening appropriate yarn and colours, such as a metallic.





I'm not generally a fan of the single button vest or cardigan, but I must admit this Emma's Overdress pattern is well-shaped in front and consequently quite flattering and wearable. I can see it working over a dress or over a t-shirt and jeans.





This Kellylynch Tunic is pretty and distinctive, though not every woman could wear it. The empire-waisted style is not for well-endowed women as it makes them look frumpy and dumpy.





The bolero/spencer jacket usually doesn't work on grown women, but it almost always looks adorable on little girls. This little Regency Bolero would be a nice finishing touch and add a little warmth to a simple child's dress.





Bonnet and Wristlets for Baby Emma. Bonnets look very quaint these days, but in a way that still works. And they're practical, as they stay in place and shield little heads with only the peach fuzz beginnings of hair from the hot sun or the cold. But the wristlets seem totally pointless to me.





Lydia's Tunic is a simple little girl's dress with some smart touches, such as the front pleat and bottom stripe. I don't see that it's at all Regency style, but never mind. The photo was unfortunately staged as, with this background, that taupe-coloured band around the skirt makes the skirt look like it has one long rip in it.





I do quite like this Henry Tilney's Vest and can easily imagine how sharp this waistcoat might look under the right suit, but can't imagine getting any of the men I would conceivably knit it for to wear it. If you want to knit this for a man of your acquaintance, get his okay before you invest in the yarn and do all that work.





Love these Tilney Socks. There's nothing like good design. It always amazes me that something so simple as, in this case, a ribbed pair of socks, can look so very sharp.





Mr. Knightley's Tea Cozy doesn't have a Regency air. It has a grandmotherly air. And that hideous "fecal matter and urine" colourway isn't helping matters.





I must admit this Hussars Spencer is something smart and different. I don't know why the stylist put it over a pink dress, though. It'll work over a turtleneck or t-shirt and jeans, or a plain shift dress. Make sure you get the sleeves the right length, and I'd make the front pieces big enough that they meet across the chest.





Erm. So here we have... a bucket-shaped Kentish Toque with random, shapeless embellishments and senseless colour scheme. I don't even know what to say about this hat. It's just sort of sitting there in front of me, existing, despite all the reasons it shouldn't be.





Love these Betwixt and Between Gloves. You can see they've been designed with great care and attention to detail. They even have buttons. And fingers.





When I looked casually at the picture of this Biedermier Stole in thumbnail size, I thought it was prettily embellished with embroidery and that I was going to like it. But now that I've looked at it more closely, I can't say I care all that much for it. The knitted-in variegated yarns just look cheesy and afghan-like. I think it's that yellow green yarn in particular that isn't working with the ashes-of-roses main colour. If you want to make this item, I'd replace the yellow-green yarn with a burgundy, or even just omit it all together and use some of the rose colour instead.






Strikingly detailed and pretty embellished Soutache Spencer, though again I would do a little tweaking. I'd make the sweater a standard length instead of cropped, and play with the colourway, making the main colour a paler green or rose colour or at least a crisp ivory or white instead of that rather drab wheat-like colour.





I like several things about Elinor's Day Coat: the colourway, the collar and cuffs, the texture, but I hate the way the front gapes open from that single button fastening. It just looks both unfinished and too small. Perhaps Elinor simply got too caught up in Marianne's drama to notice that her coat wasn't all it should be.





A pair of very simple, sensible Northanger Abbey Mittens. Long wrists like that are such a good idea when one wants to be warm because they ensure there is no bare wrist between mitten and coat cuff. Also, when one is prying into a cupboard that isn't one's own, one won't leave fingerprints.





This Fanny's Chemisette really isn't going to look attractive or flattering on anyone. It's cropped, it gapes in front, and it just looks bulky and awkward. I was going to try to suggest some tweaks as I usually do, but I soon realized that by the time this thing is redesigned to fix its flaws, it'll be a completely different design.





This Misses Bertram Wrap isn't a bad little shoulder shawl. It will stay in place, and it could actually be useful when you just want a pretty little something to throw over a summer dress on a cool evening.





The Misses Price Wrap won't work on every figure, but it will look pretty on women who have the build for it and the right pieces to go under it. I'd suggest a simple summer dress.





This pattern is called the Austensible Capelet. I'd have called it the Actual Bedskirt. Unless you really are the type of person who can throw any bizarre outfit on and make it work, I'd pass on this one.






Very attractive little Netherfield Evening Bag. It could work for day or evening depending on the materials used.





When I glanced at the thumbnail photo of this Pleated Neck Scarf, it looked for all the world like the model had a knitted fish skeleton wrapped around her neck. Looked at more carefully at a higher resolution, it's an interestingly and attractively textured scarf. I'd make it longer and skip the crocheted flower detail though, as it just looks a little awkward at this length.





Beautiful ruffled lace Lady Russell Shawl.





This Filet Camisette is filet crochet rather than knitted, but this chemise is lovely and of all these patterns will probably make you feel the most like an erudite Jane Austen heroine who is more than capable of attracting the much sought-after neighbourhood bachelor with her beauty and elegance of mind.

Tonight You Can Nailbind Like It's Still 399

Can you guess how old these socks are? I'm sure you'd estimate them to be at least a few hundred years old. Would you believe they are over 1600 years old? These socks are Egyptian and date from between A.D. 250 and A.D. 420. That is one colour-fast red dye. The split-toe style would have been created to allow for the wearing of sandals over the socks. I can't imagine that putting sandals over these socks would have looked or felt anything but awkward. Our no-socks-with-sandals prejudice was cemented early and with good reason.

However, though these socks might look knitted, they are in fact not knitting samples but examples of nålebinding, or in English "nailbinding" or "single needle knitting". The single needle used for this technique was crafted from wood or bone that was “flat, blunt and between 6-10 cm long, relatively large-eyed at one end or the eye is near the middle.” Some of what were long thought to be the oldest surviving pieces of knitting have since been determined to be nailbinded — the techniques do produce such similar pieces of work that it can be difficult to distinguish one from the other. Nailbinding, however, is the much older craft. It dates from prehistoric times while the oldest-known examples of knitting date from about 1000 A.D. and knitting is believed to have originated circa 800 A.D..

Nailbinding is slower and more labour-intensive than knitting, but easier on the back, shoulders and hands, and turns out a fabric that is, if less stretchy, more dense and durable. It is still practiced in Peru by the women of the Nanti tribe, an indigenous people of the Camisea region of Peru, who use the technique to make bracelets. Nailbinding is also used in Iran to make socks, and in parts of Scandinavia to make very warm hats, gloves, and other items.

If you'd like to give nailbinding a try yourself, there's a illustrated tutorial here, an instructional video here and samples of nailbinding and other resources at Dilettante.

Spotlight On... Designer Lucy Neatby

For some time now, I've been meaning to start to write the occasional post featuring some of the individual designers I come across whose work makes me sit up and take notice. My first such post (i.e., this one) features Nova Scotian Lucy Neatby, a pink- and purple-haired hand-knitting designer and teacher and former Merchant Navy Officer, and highlights a few of her designs that caught my eye. Neatby writes of herself that she's a very technically oriented designer. It's clear from her work that this is true, but she also obviously has such an exuberant love of colour and playfully creative side that her work is not only technically masterful but visually out of the ordinary. Judging from Neatby's Ravelry patterns, she generally sticks to smaller items: hats, mittens, scarves, socks, etc.

The design above, the Emperor's New Scarf, is probably my favourite of her designs. I see a metric tonne of scarves in my research for this blog, and most are pretty but forgettable. This one isn't forgettable. It looks like some sort of sea creature and yet... it's actually still something one could wear and not feel silly in. I'm always noting in my pattern reviews how items with holes will catch on everything. Well, this one would catch on things, but I like it so much I wouldn't care.





This is the Moonstone scarf design. It wouldn't catch on anything, and it's striking and pretty.





This is the Bubbles Scarf design. It employs a theme one would usually only use for children's apparel in such a sophisticated and technically accomplished way that it's something an adult could happily wear.





I would totally not make, let alone carry, this Udderly Divine Bag design, but the sight of it makes me giggle uncontrollably. Perhaps because it makes me think of a (former) sister-in-law's cow-themed kitchen, in which absolutely everything from the wallpaper, curtains and border to the placemats and seat cushions to the canisters to the mugs and plates to the fridge magnets to the plastic bag dispenser had four legs, horns and black spots. It was almost surreal, as though you were trapped inside one of those puzzle pictures and had to find 378 cows before you were allowed to leave. My brother had to make a deal with his wife that she could have all the cows she wanted in the kitchen but they were not to go straying out to pasture in the rest of the house, on pain of him getting the big screen TV he wanted. Anyway, I'm a little cow-stuff traumatized, but I have to acknowledge that this is a fun and cleverly executed design, and I love the picture, in which the cow is all, "Those tits are SO fake."





If you're the sort of person who just can't get enough bling on your person, these Godiva socks might be for you. I'm actually not pro-bling and tend to not like anything but quite basic, utilitarian socks (I live in my eight pairs of red-striped gray wool work socks in the winter), but these are subtle and pretty enough that I like them and would actually consider making and wearing them.

If you'd like to see more of Lucy Neatby's work, you can visit her website and check out her blog.

Where the Knitted Things Are

Artist Reina Mia Brill likes to create bizarre but cute creatures (such as those above, in a piece entitled, "If You Keep Making Faces") through a several step process that combines clay sculpting, painted, and knitted wire mesh made on antique knitting machines. As Brill states on her website,

I make creature sculptures that live in a children’s world. Part animal and part human, their lives are filled with mischief, insecurity, fears, and curiosity. Their story begins as a lump of clay which is slowly formed through my fingertips. After being bisque fired, colorful underglazes are painted on the surface. Once all the firing is finished, I pause, change pace and step back in time. Sitting down with my 1920’s and 1960’s knitting machines I decide how to transform the glazed surface with an unexpected texture, knitted wire. Colorful wire mesh is stretched and sewn over the hard clay surface for the actual skins and garments for the creatures. These old mechanical machines are truly precious. I love using them for a renewed purpose, which adds to the story and fabled world where my creatures reside.

You can visit Brill's website to learn more about her and her work and especially to see more of her fantastical knitted mesh creatures. Which I so want to see starring in an animated movie.

The Silence of the Sheep

I can't find anything on who made this chair (let me know if you can) but doesn't it look like the ultimate knitting chair? The sheep heads will be the perfect aid in winding hanks or in blocking hats. Your small children and/or pets won't bother you while you're knitting because they'll have run screaming from whatever room the chair was placed in the day it came into the house. If you're a spinner, you'll probably have to hold yourself back from stripping the wool off the chair when you're running short on roving, and some night down the road you'll probably wake up in the wee small hours to find these sheep are standing over you armed with shearing knives and muttering something about Buffalo Bill's "woman suit", but oh well. It's not every day one has a knitting chair that looks both cushy and like the evil entity in a Stephen King novel.

I May Not Hear Wedding Bells, But I Think I See One

I've been seeing this... creation.... in my random image Googles search results for awhile now. I thought it was one of those runway creations that are purely for spectacle. Turns out this a knitted wedding dress from Yves Saint Laurent's Fall/Winter 1965 collection.





I have no idea if anyone actually bought into this idea and wore this in her wedding. It looks like a wedding dress version of the burqa, one that daringly shows the face as a tantalizing preview of the wedding night. I suppose the one good thing about this design is that the bride will not only feel any need to diet for her wedding day, but that she'll feel it's a sign that she can eat all the creamsicles she wants.

But this is one of those designs that make me feel designers really are actually fucking with us and trying to find out just how much we'll pay them to make us look like idiots. I mean... this is more than a little phallic, isn't it? Mightn't that be a subtle clue of some sort?