Or: Paperhouse goes to see the tiniest lift in London. I think it was a converted dumb waiter or something.
Pattern: Urchin by Ysolda (on Ravelry).
Yarn: Rowan, Rowanspun Chunky.
Needles: Pony straights, 7.5mm.
Sarah Ditum
Freelance writer and journalist
Posted in October 2008 …
Darned
With Leigh’s encouragement (“it’s a kind of weaving with the sock as the frame”) and inspiration from Felix’s account of Celia Pym’s mending project (plus a little e-tutoring), I managed to turn a tight-foot that was more hole than heel:
into something that is more blue than brown, but definitely worthy of putting in a shoe again:
My first darn is inside out – my previous lumpy mends pursuaded me to do my sewing from the inside, which is completely the wrong approach here because it puts the raw edges of the stocking-foot in contact with the insole of my shoe which wore them away originally. But I really like the irregular shapes of the holes with the bright teal gleaming through, and maybe Leigh’s jumper idea is headed for my sketchbook…
Paperhouse Style: On Orwell
Unspeak, which is one of my favourite blogs, posted not-very-approvingly about one of my favourite essays and reminded me that I’d been meaning to re-read “Politics And The English Language”. Orwell’s essay serves as a brusque shorthand among some of my friends for literary quality: if you want to point out that something is badly written, the most economical way about it is to mutter “Orwell” and roll your eyes. So it was pretty disappointing to find on further encounter with the essay that Steven Poole’s assessment is a lot more astute that my undergraduate reading.
It’s A Carnival
A meat-free one with some very beautiful costumes. And Paperhouse is in it too. Mosy over to Crafting A Greener World and check it out – they’ve picked up some great posts on this round.
Pennywise, Pound Foolish, Sewing Incompetent
About two years ago, life in the Paperhouse was changed forever by the discovery of a couple of pairs of Falke Soft Merino tights on the hosiery shelf during a rummaging session in TK Maxx. I know that sounds like hyperbole, but I really am pretty shallow. Suddenly, winter dressing was transformed from a misery of static-y, snaggley, chilly legs to a cocoon of cosy chic. I went back and bought every pair of the tights in my size – even some in a shade which I like to think of as “camel” but is really an unwearable sort of unfleshly tone. I liked them so much I bought a couple of pairs at full, eye-watering price, thinking that even though £40 was a lot to blow on tights, at least they’d last a long time and I could definitely darn them.
But even tights with a serious Germanic name will wear out eventually and when mine ripped along the gusset, it turned out that my mending skills were a little reluctant. First of all, I put them in the mending pile. Then they ended up in the laundry. Then I tried to wear them anyway, and that was a thigh-chafing little adventure. However, I wasn’t going to buy replacements, and I refused to go back to nylons, so something would have to be done.
I don’t know how to darn. I remember my mum’s darning mushroom, and even recall seeing the occasional sock on it, but I wasn’t interested in acquiring any textiles skills. Darn number one was a rough stab with grey cotton which – and I really do see how this could have been foreseen – ripped through the surrounding wool on first wear. So I tried again:
Whipstitching with black sock yarn made a seam with the unrefined look of something out of a Cronenberg movie but also one which is stretchy enough to hold up. So I’ve got my tights back, although the world hasn’t really gained in darning expertise. Any tips on a good source for learning to do this properly would be welcome in the comments…
Finished: Challenger Hat
Knitting makes good busywork. When you feel that you should be doing something but don’t have anything in particular to do, knitting fills the hole. And so I have made the Challenger Hat.
Pattern: improvised
Size: to fit 24″ head/ man’s large
Yarn: Cascade 220 Tweed (100% wool), shade 7627, about half a ball
Needles: Addi Turbo 5mm, 40cm; 5mm dpns or long-cable circular to work crown decreases.
Tension: 18st to 4″ in k2, p2 rib (stretched)
Inventing a hat is easy. I don’t why I’ve never done it before. This is what I did:
I get stuff
Not that I am milking my long-ago birthday for blog matter, oh no. But my dear little Ratchet made me this dear little cake (see how here), and seeing it on my mantelpiece every day makes me feel like every day is, in fact, my birthday. Which means that this six-weeks-after-the-fact post is practically timely.
In other stuff-I-have-gotten news, this yarn arrived from New York today. It’s Alchemy Silken Straw, it’s catastrophically expensive, and it’s the most curious and beautiful yarn I’ve handled in all my knitting days. As a knitter whose taste in yarn takes in the whole panoply of options from “DK-weight superwash merino” to “DK-weight superwash cotton-merino mixes”, this is a big leap into the unknown. In the skein, Silken Straw is glorious: crisp, faceted, richly coloured. But winding it (and lord knows I am glad to work in an office with a swift), you get to really understand its strange loveliness, well-evoked by its Rapunzel-ish name. Though it rustles like paper, it’s remarkably strong and promises to become a very special garment – something celebratory, I think.
