Knit.1 magazine commissi0ned me to write a profile of textile artist Freddie Robins – the blackly witty creator of impossible jumpers, absurdist knitted sculpture, and the magnificent series Knitted Homes Of Crime, which reproduces in cuddly yarn the homes of notorious female killers. But as well as being astonishingly talented, it turns out that Robins is a thoughtful and generous interview, making time to chat with me even though she was in the middle of moving studios.
The finished feature is in the issue that goes on sale 5 May – and if I wasn’t pleased enough with the piece itself, the layout is smashing, and it’s keeping company with some really lovely patterns (I’m especially taken with the lace top they’re highlighting on the magazine homepage).
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.
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.
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:
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.
I remember hearing a radio interview with Vivienne Westwood (Desert Island Discs, probably) when I was in my early teens, in which she told the story of how she used to wear a pencil-skirt and high-heeled shoes to school. And this struck me as a wonderful thing. If you’d asked me at the time to explain why this was so impressive, I would have been lost – I don’t think the idea that I would want other people to find me attractive or sexy had really formed in my mind yet, although it certainly had its unacknowledged part in my psyche. Something about the soft-spoken intent to provoke and the unselfconscious love of dressing up won me to Westwood forever.
And then there were the clothes. Mini-crinis, bustles, corsets, tottering wedges, tweeds and tartans. I watched their passage through the fashion pages with breathless lust: strange and gorgeous costumes for a world of untouchable theatre and glamour. I wanted – still want – to live in that world. And for a giddy hour in the Sheffield Millenium Gallery, I got to do so.
[Apology for not blogging here.] [Heartfelt resolution to blog more in future here.] [Explanation for lack of blog activity here.]
Actually, the explanation for lack of blog activity is here and here. It’s my first time making real magazines and – thanks to our dedicated commissioning eds, stunning contributors, fabulously talented art guy, and heroic publisher – the results are pretty impressive. Hitting the newstands mid-October.
So, Webster Jr (the sewing side of our sisterly craft nexus) has not only made me a ribbon for my Matilda Jane cardigan (which I will, I will, I will show you) but is also one zip-placing session away from making me a skirt. And I have done nothing – nothing at all – about making her something to wear in her classroom. Until Thursday, when I cast on for the Lamour slipover from Rowan 44.