Overlocker, schmoverlocker...

I've never been attracted by the idea of an overlocker/serger.

Partly because I've never wanted the clothes I make to look as though I bought them in a shop: I want them to look hand-made. Hopefully, they look beautifully hand-made, but certainly I don't want them to look factory-made.

Partly because I think that the seam finish an overlocker produces isn't attractive. Functional and efficient, yes, but not good-looking in the way a French seam or bound hem is.

Partly because I wriggle uncomfortably at a quick 'n' easy mentality that I have (unfairly, I admit, seeing as how they aren't sentient...) assigned to overlockers: as I've ranted before, what's wrong with making a bit of an effort? And why the hurry? Being a bit slow can be good.

Anyway, after being told by Tilly in no uncertain terms, but with great charm, that overlockers are excellently useful bits of kit, I booked on to a one-day 'how to use an overlocker' course at Morley College. And there I learned what most of you already know: that overlockers are indeed excellently useful bits of kit, and they are not as difficult to thread as I imagined.

Then I went to the Knitting and Stitching Show at Alexandra Palace (as a punter rather than an exhibitor: I'm taking a year off), and Janome had a show offer on overlockers, and so...

...this arrived this morning.

In it was this.

So I am getting my patterns out, reviewing my stash, and this WILL be the winter in which I make more clothes. I'm going to aim for one garment a month. Surely that's possible...

New book sneak peek + giveaway

Contrary to what you might think if you read this blog, I have spent a good deal of this year making things.

So how come I've shown so few photos of 'things'?

Because they have mainly been made for books, and the publishers – not unreasonably – prefer one not to wave the makes about on the web before they've been in the book.

But there comes a time when publication is due and one is off the hook, and that's now for The Knitted Alphabet.

I've done this book with knit guru and generally wonderful woman, Sarah Hazell (who needs to get a move on putting her website together so I can link to it...), and it really does do what it says on the tin: 250ish pages of charted letters and numbers in 26 different styles, plus punctuation and dingbats for emoticons, plus knitted samples, plus projects, plus techniques.

Everything you need to say it with knitting...

Self-striping yarn makes for excellent knitterish spray paint...

We had help knitting the samples (about 300 of them...), and the projects, from some wonderfully talented peeps: thank you Fiona, Jools, Luise, Sophia and Amanda. Without you we would still be knitting now...

Some of the alphabets have uppercase and lowercase letters. These impeccable samples were knitted by the lovely Luise.

There are ten knitted swatches with every alphabet – made using a variety of techniques including beading and embroidery as well as colour knitting – with (hopefully) helpful captions giving you ideas and tips on how you might work the letters for your own projects.
 

Fiona's staggeringly perfect knitting, plus captions telling you how the samples were made.

There's lots of variety of letter styles: retro, classic, modern, quirky, handwritten, typewritten... in different scales and, because Sarah and I are knitters, the charts are done on rectangular knitter's grid – not squares – so you can see what they will really look like when knitted up.

The charts are done on knitter's grid, not unrepresentative square grid...

Samples use different techniques and yarn combinations for lots of knitting choice...

Some of the alphabets have matching numerals...

And there are ten projects, each with notes on how you can adapt them to feature your own letter choices (so you don't have to be called Lucas, Ingrid, Max, Elvis... to knit one of them).

Bribed with Marmite, Vincent agreed to model with this scarf, even if it did have someone else's name on it... And isn't my new bedroom floor lovely?

I know that I would say this, wouldn't I, but I honestly think that The Knitted Alphabet is a really useful knitting resource: you can add a letter, a name, a motto, something obnoxious... to any project with enough stitches in it (the smallest letters are 11 stitches tall, the largest 57 stitches).

However, I have to confess that at the moment the book isn't available in the UK... There's a US edition (published by Barron's) and an Australian edition (published by Sally Milner), so I'm chuffed to have a copy to give away to a UK knitter. Follow me (via the little photos on the right – I like those – or Bloglovin) and leave me a comment on this post, and I'll pick a name out of something hattish and send a book to you on 21 October.

And the winner is...

Slightly belatedly (but picked out of a very lovely hat)...

Toots, send me your address and I'll send you your book. Hope you enjoy it.

Podcast!!! + giveaway!!!

I was deeply flattered when Kelley Petkun of Knit Picks contacted me to say that she was enjoying my book The Knitter's Palette, and would I participate in a podcast with her.

A bit confusingly, in the UK this book is called Knit 400, but the insides are the same, apart from spellings...

 Yes! Of course! Always on for a new thing (well, almost always...).

So a phone time was booked, we chatted at some length, Kelley was lovely, I was excitable...

And now the podcast is up on the Knit Picks website: if you so desire, you can listen to my alarmingly deep, decidedly London accent enthusing about colour and knitting.

Although in speaking to Kelley, I was rather preaching to the converted: this is a lady who takes her knitting with her when going out to dinner, who gets knitting care packages sent to her when she's away, who really LOVES yarn.

It was a real pleasure talking to you, Kelley.

And I have a copy of the book, US or UK edition, to give away. If you'd like it, then follow me and leave me a comment telling me which edition you'd like. I'll pick a name out of something hat-shaped on Friday 13, and post the book anywhere in the world.

Finally...

After this, and this (I didn't have the heart to update the latter; meltdown occurred)...

It's you that's jinxing me...

We got this! Hurrah!

I wasn't watching...
Magical thinking?
Hope so...

The waggiest tail

With a rare – maybe unique – helicopter-style wag action, Darcy was a dead cert for winner of The Waggiest Tail at our local park dog show. Elvis had to be content with a bridesmaid role, again: her lack of success may have had something to do with the fact that she and I are currently sharing the same hairdresser...

Staking a claim...

Just claiming my blog...

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The great catch-up...

As one wanders the blogosphere, one encounters quite a few rather surprised entries that wonder where all the time went...

Well, I was on holiday for three weeks: yes indeedio, three whole weeks. (That was why I had to late-night sew: my summer clothes had mysteriously shrunk while in winter storage...) Himself and I took our 1979 VW camper to Norway and toddled gently around the Western Fjords, an expedition made significantly easier by the power steering fitted just before we left. Camper owners of the world, I thoroughly recommend the Litesteer system, even if you aren't planning on negotiating narrow, twisting roads that sport little in the way of crash barriers and a great deal in the way of vertiginous drops. And while there wasn't much traffic on the roads, a fair percentage of what there was was large and oncoming at surprisingly high speeds in the middle of a single-track road. Himself and I have an arrangement whereby I drive and he cooks, so 2000+ miles of lorry-dodging later, I have nerves of steel.

The fjord scenery is spectacular and the camping sites splendiferous; indeed, several of the shower rooms had underfloor heating, making them more luxurious than our bathroom at home... (Which reminds me of a postcard I once bought in Alabama that defined a US Southerner as someone whose standard of living improved when they went camping: I live in South London...) So, despite the novel experience of becoming overly excited about dual carriageways, and rather more snow than I had anticipated in May, we had an excellent holiday.

Lots of truly magnificent scenery...

Camper motored perfectly throughout...

Himself up to his ears in snow... (and looking rather dishevelled around the midriff, sorry about that...)

An end-of-the-world campsite, just us and a few oddities with the world whizzing by overhead: good showers here...

Uplifting view from the camper at a more isolated campsite...

We rented campsite cabins a couple of times; groovalicious curtains...

Found a yarn shop in Florø in the far west of the fjords...

I missed Elvis, but was mollified by a bulldog show judged by this wonderously bulldoggish English chap...

I took some lace-weight yarn (my fave at the moment), a circular needle and a crochet hook on holiday with the intention of experimenting. Having spent so much time making for books recently, it was very lovely to be doing something with no deadline. It's quite definitely a WIP, and I'm not convinced...

The start of something... not sure what...

But I like the way the knitting and the crochet work together...

And when I got back, Liberty had reordered pincushions, which is very gratifying...

Fab fish courtesy of Sarah, china-hunter extraordinaire...

Very charming clog from the lovely Julie... (I twiddled about in Photoshop trying to get the label to read the right way round, but my left/right idiot-thing defeated me: that affliction is particularly trying when driving a right-hand drive car abroad...)

Where's the kissy princess? How did I end up like this?

I hugely enjoyed doing some sewing for myself and am determined to do more (plus, three weeks of holiday have made A-line pinafores a logistical necessity: I think my behind is attempting world domination all by itself...) and a trip to Fabrics Galore (one of my very favourite shops, and now – so excitingly – with an online store) elicited this...

A pinafore with a plain red bodice and a long skirt made in this? Scarlet, I blame any dipping of my toes into the waters of Goth-dom on you...

And in other news, Lefty is doing well in the US Open.

The lovely Lefty, -3 at the end of day one.

I don't have Sky, so I rely on the Guardian for coverage: I think that even if you HATE golf (and I am led to believe that, astonishingly, some people do...), this is a very amusing column.

I am the midnight sewcalist...

Pinafore number two has been a late-night affair: what is it about staying up too late that makes me think, 'this is the perfect time to start a project'. And then it's 2am and I can't see properly any more...

The fashion fabric is something-mainly-synthetic-with-a-smidgen-of-wool in brown with a fabulous gold thread check pattern: I can never resist a bit of glitter.

The threads making up the checks are metallic gold...

I bought the fabric in Birmingham's Rag Market a year or so ago for some ridiculously small amount of money, and while I love the look of it, it is very thin and floppy, and one feels that it won't wear that well. Fortunately, I had also bought a couple of metres (my default amount) of a very splendid lining: heaven knows what it's made from but it feels (and looks) rather like thin tent material. And it's in perfect green. How do I know it's perfect? Because it matches the walls in my workroom and my VW camper van, both of which are the perfect green. To add body to the pinafore and toughen up my glitter check fabric, I used the green fabric underlining-style (can it be an underlining if there isn't a separate lining?). I tweaked my pattern to have a slightly fuller skirt, cut out the check and discovered the fabric frayed horribly, so French-seamed the side seams, treating the green lining and fashion fabric as a single layer.

The seams are a tad bulky, but they actually help with the pinafore's shape...

I topstitched the facings using my lovely patchwork foot,and gold thread. It took a bit of experimentation to find the right needle, as the thread is 3-ply and quite thick; an 80 embroidery needle rejected the job,  but a 110 coped in the end. And I like the result.

Once the tension and needle size were figured out, this thread was still pretty horrible to sew with...

For probably 30 years I have had this belt buckle in my stash (parts of my stash are rather like geological strata; dig deep and you'll uncover real history). I always knew it'd be the perfect thing one day, and today was its day.

Weirdly, as I was making this pinafore there was a programme on Radio 4 about monkish haircuts in the early days of Christianity: Roman monks had circular tonsures (to echo Christ's crown of thorns; never knew that) and Irish monks had druid-inspired dos with the front of their heads shaved and long locks at the back (a kind of uber-mullet?). And those are the hair-dos of these chaps: Irish on top, Roman clinging on for dear life...

I found a vintage button in my stash for the other shoulder strap...

I am pleased with pinafore number two, so pleased in fact that I shall promote it to pinafore number one, primary pinafore.

These pinafores do look better on me than on a hanger...

I sewed!

When I started this blog (still contemplating a more attractive word), I didn't really take on board the fact that a fair few of the things I make are for books, so I can't talk about them when I make them: the publishers would be most unhappy. So, although over the last couple of months I have made quite a lot of things, I have only now made something I can show you immediately. (The book stuff will come in time...)

My pinafore looks vast in this photo...

As a statement of my firm belief that summer is finally here, I sewed myself a new pinafore. It's based on one that I bought a year or more ago and wore constantly last summer.

I drew out a pattern on brown paper and made a few changes from the original: widened the back a little, widened the shoulder straps, made the skirt a slight tulip shape with an asymmetric hem. I used a heavy cotton fabric in lichen-green from my stash (in fact, the whole project was entirely from stash; I can't decide if it's good that I have all this stuff to hand, or embarrassing for exactly the same reason). I bound the facings with red cotton bias binding and used the same binding to make a faced hem. I'm a big fan of finishing details, and of bias binding. (A brief distraction: do you know House of Alistair? Lovely bias binding.) I topstitched around the neckline and armholes using a new-to-me patchwork foot that I feel in my water is going to be much-loved.

The two guides are removable, giving you a truly multi-purpose foot.

The facings are bound with bias binding that's simply zigzagged on. I raided my button stash and decided that a collection of vintage pearl buttons would work as jewellery.

Jewellery on both straps, and lovely topstitching from my new foot.

The hem is faced using the hidden bias binding method in Me and My...

You'll have to take my word on it that the pinafore looks less lumpen, and less vast, on me than it does on the hanger. I'm very pleased with it and shall make myself another (I have complete stash for that, too...).

Knitting with the Masters

This afternoon I shall be...

Just perfect. 

Though it's hard to keep my tension even at the colour changes when Dustin goes into meltdown. Will have to concentrate on Lefty instead.

Update: It was worse than I could have imagined; Dustin and Lefty both in meltdown. Other than that, it was great. And the Grand Prix on Sunday morning.

Sewing Bee

I don't watch reality television because seeing people being made unhappy makes me anxious. Similarly, I can't listen to the Today programme because an argument first thing in the morning puts me in a bad mood for the rest of the day, even if it's not an argument I'm involved in. And I don't watch horror or violent films because they frighten me, and I don't like being scared (even some bits of Buffy were too much). But for a sewing show I was prepared to risk misery.

It was tense! And I found myself making snitty comments about contestants' fabric/haberdashery choices and their cutting technique: not very nice of me – talk about fast descent to beast. A friend who works in the biz said that Love, the production company, always 'cast well', and that certainly shone through: some contestants seemed to have surprisingly poor technical skills/fabric savvy to be sewing on prime-time, but lots of tv-friendly 'character'. I realise that that is the point of choosing them, but my simple little mind would have liked more sewing expertise to relish.

The jump from A-line skirt and neckline alteration to fitted-dress-on-someone-you've-never-met-before seemed huge. I did feel for Tilly, faced with an FBA on such a fitted bodice. Do you think the models were chosen to influence the dress outcomes? Or is that overly cynical of me?

What was all that about the laundry bag? The worst set of fantastically brief instructions ever! What were the 'side pieces' for? Okay, I've just looked at the book on Amazon and there's a laundry bag in the contents list, so I guess it was a tie-in to that. A really rubbish tie-in. (I haven't seen the book yet: bad of me. The bidding war for the rights was so contested and protracted that I was offered editing work on it by three different publishers at various points, but was already committed to other books.)

The presenters were a bit humourless, but at least they weren't nasty to the sewers. Even though Michelle had cocked up her dress completely, she wasn't my choice for ejection as her other pieces didn't seem badly made: her neckline alteration wasn't perfect but it was ambitious and not at all dreadful considering the time allowed, and compared to some others. Was the ejection based on tv-character rather than sewing ability? Or is that overly cynical of me, again? Or am I just missing the point of the programme?

So, to Bee or not to Bee? (A dreadful pun that's going to be used everywhere, but curiously irresistible.) I think yes; I've set it to record. Will have to watch while knitting though, so I can concentrate on the needles if it gets nasty.

Knitting geek alert # 1

Having edited an abundance of knitting books by a wide variety of knitters for plenty of publishers, I've learned oodles of tips and tricks: some have become indispensable, others thrill my inner knitting geek, and some seem overly complicated for a not-very-good result. Now I'm sure that some of these tricks will be new/thrilling/indispensable only to me and actually well-known and rather dull to you, but in the spirit of knowledge shared...

Let's be entirely conventional and begin at the beginning with a slip knot. 

Images from Ultimate Knitting Bible by Sharon Brant (Collins & Brown)

1 With the tail end of the yarn in palm of your hand, wrap the ball end once around your fingers.
2 Slip a knitting needle under the loop around your fingers.
3 Wrap the ball end around the tip of the needle and pull a loop through the loop on your fingers.
4 Slip the loop off your fingers and pull on the ball end of the yarn to tighten the knot.

Does that look and sound familiar? It's the way most books show you to how to make a slip knot, and I made them this way for years. But as you have to tighten the knot by pulling on the ball end of the yarn, once you have cast on and knitted the first row it's impossible to easily tighten what will often be a loose first stitch (mine are always a bit baggy).

So I now make my slip knots this way.
 

1 Make a loop with the tail end of the yarn over the ball end.

2 Take the tail end under the loop.

3 Slip a knitting needle into the loop and under the tail end only.

4 Pull on the tail end of the yarn to tighten the knot.

This means that once you've knitted the first row, you can pull on the tail end of the yarn again to tighten the first cast on stitch should it be baggy. The only reason I can think of for not making slip knots this way is that the first stitch isn't locked off; theoretically I suppose it could come undone. I've never had an end work loose yet, and once the knitting is finished it'll be darned in, so it will be entirely secure. 

Does any one know any other reasons for not making your slip knot this way?

Cute pet photos, OR, cross-species love

How can it be that only four posts in to this blog I am already resorting to cute pet photos? How can it be past the middle of March? How can I stretch time to get more of it into a day? Would an extra four hours a day be enough? If it is possible to warp the space/time continuum, would it be better to go back to the beginning of the year? Or last year? An extra year, entirely fitted in to next Wednesday, say, would be lovely.

While I'm waiting for that delightful event, here are two photos from my cute pet collection (I'm holding a pet or two back as I think I'm going to need them in the future...)

Elvis and Vincent when Vincent was small...

Elvis and Vincent when Vincent was all grown up...

 Despite her name, Elvis is a girl, so nothing for the homophobes to worry about here...

the c word...

No, not THAT c word, and not 'cancer', and not even 'community' (my personal hated c word when used to describe an almost entirely disparate group of people): I'm on about a c word that should be positive, but increasingly isn't – craft.

Time for a brief, but hearfelt, rant – a rantette possibly.

I work as a freelance project manager and editor specialising in illustrated craft books, and I consider myself lucky in that I love my job and am always busy. More often than not I admire the skills of the authors I work with, and am inspired by their creativity and their enthusiasm for what they do. For many of them it's a struggle to balance working as they want to with the need to eat and put a roof over their heads, and I'm often impressed and moved by the extent of their commitment to their art and craft. And the publishers I work for battle onward in the face of free products on the Web (not that there is anything wrong with many of those) and the global recession (which has hit craft books at every level, from volatile currency markets making sales into foreign countries ever more difficult, to the crafter who's stopped buying books in order to keep feeding their family), to produce gorgeous and informative books. A good-looking, well-written book takes a team of variously skilled people and thousands and thousands of pounds to produce, something that people who decide to self-publish usually start to realise quite early on in the process of making their book. But I'm getting distracted here; the nature of publishing isn't the point of this rantette (we can come back to it another day; along with written English...).

This rant is supposed to be about the nature of craft; and why it's become a bit of a dodgy word. Can I direct you to Cassandra Ellis who has summed up this issue very neatly for me: 'I worry that craft and craftmanship are sliding further and further apart...' (do read her post in full, it's thought-provoking; and her book is lovely). I work in crafts, and I worry about this slide, too. Now, I'm not saying that the only good aesthetic is one that involves perfection, or that anyone should be embarrassed by early attempts at making anything: seriously, we all start somewhere and having a go at something is worthwhile in itself. But can't we do the best we can with the skills, time and materials we have? Can't we strive for excellence? What's wrong with trying hard? (Okay, the last question isn't simple if you apply it to life as a whole – though still a good question, I think – but let's not get distracted in that direction...).

Do you think we can reclaim the c word? I'm not always a fan of reclaiming words (really don't understand the desire/possibility of 'reclaiming' the word 'slut' – as in slut walk – as it IS pejorative, though the principles of the walks are certainly positive; but that's another distraction from the rant in hand...), but for centuries craftswomen and craftsmen were respected for their skills as well as their creativity; can't we make the effort to keep that true today? Whether you are spinning and dying your own yarns to create a unique Fair Isle jumper, or putting together a last-minute birthday card from ready-made bits and bobs, can we steer away from 'that'll do', and aim for 'that's the best I can do'?

What do you think?

Knit 400

I knitted, and knitted, and knitted, and knitted, and knitted, and... and was rescued from complete knitting insanity by the lovely LR and scrumptious SH, and the result is this new book.

The UK cover on the left and the US cover on the right. The titles are different, but the insides are the same (apart from some spellings...)

There are 224 packed pages: don't worry, I'm not going to go for a blow-by-blow tour of each one – here are just a few faves.

I'm very pleased with my knitted colour wheel. The lovely LR steered me in the right direction for this, and was very patient with my dimness when it comes to comprehending shaping charts (I'm a words knitter).

A fabulous opportunity to shop for yarns, though sometimes a serious struggle to find the right type of yarn in the right colourway...thank you Mrs Moon for stocking such a fabulous yarn selection: couldn't have done it without you.

Slip stitch was the revelation for me when researching this book. I'd only known it as rather clunky colourwork, and wondered why one would – stranding or intarsia aren't impossible to master. But a limited palette and lots of texture and I was a true convert.

My editor was staggeringly patient with my endless requests for tiny changes to the artworks. I think it was worth it: I hope he's forgotten the pain.

Excellent colour knitting, don't you think? Sadly, not my own work in this instance: thank you LR.

Each chapter (there are nine) deals with a different type of knitting, and each palette in a chapter looks at a different way of influencing that knitting; so here are some thoughts on beads and embroidery with stranded knitting. As always, one has more thoughts than there are space for...

Colour and Aran combos: I really liked doing this palette.

So, there you are, a taster of the new written offspring. I hope you like him.