the issue of ease, part 2

So, seeing how much latitude is available with respect to ease, there are two questions to be answered before you start that garment.

• How much ease do you want in the sweater you are making?
• How do you work with the pattern to get it?

Here is what you will do to answer these questions and produce a sweater that fits the way you want.

1. Find the size you would normally knit. (If you don't know, measure yourself around the widest part of your bust. In standard sizes, S = 32–34; M = 36–38; L = 40–42; 1X = 44–46; 2X = 48–50. For other sizes, extrapolate from this: for hips, add 2" to every number.) Let's assume you have a 41" bust, which makes you a L.
2. Find the finished measurement for that size.  Let's assume it's 45". Now hold a tape measure at your bust at 45" and see how it feels. If you love it, then knit that size: you are done! But if you don't love how it will fit, then do the following steps.
3. Go to another garment of the same style (and it doesn't have to be a sweater)--one whose fit you like--and measure its circumference, then try it on to remind yourself how it fits on your body. (Please see the bullets below where I discuss this step further.) Once you are sure of the bust measurement you want, record it.
4. Let's assume the circumference you like is a little smaller than the pattern's. What can you do? Because there is usually 4" difference between sizes, this would mean the L is 45" and the M is 41". You have a 41" bust, so you would get 0 ease if you knit the M. But if knit a L front and a M back, you'd get a finished circumference of 43", which might be exactly what you want! So do it!
5. On the other hand, let's assume the circumference you like is a little larger than the pattern's. You could get more ease if you knit a 1X front and a L back. (You might notice that I prefer to put the larger size in the front--because this is how we are shaped.) So do that!

There is more to say about step 3.

• I'm saying bust, but (as you read yesterday) if the garment is longer we work with the hip measurement.
• By style, I'm referring to what you might think of as armhole style: set-in sleeve, raglan, drop shoulder. How something is shaped to fit the armhole has a huge bearing on the amount of ease it needs (as you saw in yesterday's post).
• Some folks say they don't have a garment whose fit they like. Okay. Try on something you don't like, preferably something too big around the bust! Pinch it to see how much smaller should it be.
• If the thing you are measuring is a light blouse or fine T-shirt, please appreciate that your knit garment will be a heavier fabric and might need 1" more ease.

So, let's assume you finished steps 1–2 and can confidently knit your size. Congratulations! You are done. You need read no further.

But what if you've done the work of steps 1–5 and now know you need to blend sizes. Do not fear! This blending of sizes is something I find myself doing a lot--even when I knit from my own patterns. Why? Because some of my patterns are 10 years old, and 10 years ago styles were looser. Now that I want a closer-to-the-body fit, I find myself knitting M fronts and S backs a lot.

Is it as simple as it sounds? Well . . . no . . . not quite (and when is anything ever as simple as it sounds?!?).

For one thing, working a different size for the front and back doesn't work for a drop shoulder (or most kinds of modular knitting). But the drop shoulder is a style that is better knit with a lot of ease, so chances are you could just knit your size anyway!(And the same could be said for most modular knitting.)

If you are making a set-in sleeve or raglan--the styles we are more fond of--the blending of sizes does work. You might have to fiddle numbers (for the shoulder width of the set-in sleeve, for the armhole decreases for the raglan, for the underarm bind-off for both), but this should not be a stretch.

• For the set-in sleeve, decrease to the shoulder width that fits your shoulders.
• For the raglan, you might have to slow down your armhole decreases on the smaller piece--so your armhole is not too short on that side. To slow down decreases, just skip a few decrease rows. (I don't love the raglan, because it is not flattering on many of us and is difficult to make fit. So maybe the first time you do this should be with a set-in sleeve?)
• For either the set-in sleeve or raglan, there will be an armhole bind-off: bind off the number of stitches for the size sleeve you are making. (For example, if the armhole bind-off is 5 stitches for the M and 7 stitches for the L, then bind off 5 stitches for both.)
• For the set-in sleeve or raglan, you will have to decide which size sleeve you want (L or M?). Make the armhole depth and sleeve for that size, binding off the number of stitches from the previous bullet at each underarm.

If you are someone who just wants to knit the pattern (and is afraid to deviate), then please consider the following.

There's probably nothing more important to your knitting than having it fit properly: doing this work will ensure that.

This kind of work is very good for your brain: you will be a healthier version of yourself for doing it.

Knitting is extraordinarily flexible! If you goof up a little, chances are the knitting will forgive you.

Fear and knitting  are two words that should never occur in the same sentence!

the issue of ease, part 1

There is much misunderstanding about ease: is it included in the pattern? how much does a sweater need? Here is my answer to both of these.

1. Ease is included in the pattern (and reflected in the finished measurements). BUT different designers like different amounts of ease, different styles require different amounts of ease, and the amount of ease we like changes over time (as styles and our bodies change). So there's lots more to understand and consider.
2. How much ease a sweater needs is a function of the designer's preference plus the style of sweater plus the weight of yarn. What follows are guidelines that designers usually follow.

notes
By fine yarns, I mean 21 or more stitches to 4"; by medium yarns, I mean 18–20 stitches to 4"; by heavy yarns, I mean 17 or fewer stitches to 4".
  
By fitted styles, I mean set-in sleeve or close-fitting raglan: for non-fitted styles, I mean loose raglan or drop-shoulder.

Each explanation is an and/or, meaning it could be one or all of the suggestions offered.

We say bust because that's usually the fullest part of the body being covered. But if the sweater is longer and your hips are fuller (which standard sizes say is the norm), then ease is added to hips. And if your tummy is bigger than your bust, then ease is added to that measurement.

The measurement should be taken at the fullest part of your bust or tummy or hips. (It is a common misunderstanding to think it is taken under the bust.)

• very close fit  = bust + 0" or less  for fine yarns, for fitted styles, for garments that won't be worn over another, for stretchy stitch patterns (This is also called negative ease.)
• close fit = bust + 0–2"  for fine or medium weight yarns, for fitted styles, for garments that may not be worn over another
• standard ease = bust + 2–4"  for fine or medium weight yarns, for fitted styles, for garments that may be worn over another
• loose fit = bust + 4–6"  for medium weight or heavy yarns, for non-fitted styles, for garments that may be worn over another
• over-sized = bust + 6" or more  for heavy yarns, for non-fitted styles, for garments that may be worn over another

Ease is added to each size within the standard sizes you see at the back of your knitting book or magazine. But consider that each size covers a range of possibilities: for example, a medium is 36–38". So if you are at the smaller end of your size range, you'll have more ease between your body and the finished sweater: if you are at the larger end of your size, you'll have less ease between your body and the finished sweater. And if you have a 39" bust measurement according to the chart you are neither a medium nor a large! What to do about all this will be discussed in tomorrow's post.
 
Obviously, there is a lot of latitude for how much ease should be added. So designers work with their personal preferences. I, for example, prefer more ease rather than less: given a set-in sleeve in a fine yarn, I'd go with standard ease rather than close fit when either of these choices would be perfectly appropriate. Why? Because in high school I was a tiny thing with HUGE BOOBS that I wanted to hide. And I am now an older girl (over 60) who thinks close-fitting clothes not so age appropriate. If you are younger and never wanted to hide your body under a tent, then you may find my styles a little loose. What to do about this will also be discussed in tomorrow's post.

So for now, this is what ease means and how it is usually applied. Check in tomorrow to read how to work with it to ensure you knit a garment that fits the way you want.

when you can't just buy a blender

I don’t normally show my projects here—probably because I have too many on-the-go at once, probably because I don’t think anyone should be as fascinated by them as I am.

Today is an exception: it’s a project I’ve worked on all summer, and it’s a project that has fascinated me. And it is not one of my designs which somehow makes me more excited to bring it to your attention.

I have a family member getting married, and I have always made presents for these folk: an afghan for my brother, a quilt for my sister and another for my step-daughter. I do this because

• these people are special
• I suck at buying presents. (Sorry for the language, but no other word expresses so well how truly bad I am at this task.)

So when I really care (and can’t just buy a blender) I take the time to make something. And this family member deserved something special. He’s my step-grandson, and a designer for RIM, and the guy who did my schematics for two books (with great patience and despite thinking a sleeve was a lamp).

He, like many young people, has a black + chrome house. I decided to knit a large afghan (which could double as a smallish queen bed blanket), but how to inject colour? I did not want to be responsible for choosing a colour scheme for his home so let the Noro Kureyon do it for me. And, after some exploration, I decided to use the pattern for Pat Ashforth’s A New Angle (available on Ravelry).

So, 21 balls of NORO, 8 skeins of Cascade 220, 3 months of knitting, one week of assembly (including first washing the swatches and then the entire afghan), 2 days of sewing in tails, and here it is.

Despite what you might have taken from the previous details, it was quite easy (just garter stitch without intarsia at the join of the black and gray), it was fascinating (watching how the colours moved), and it was really fun (that addiction that one-square-at-a-time produces). 

Above all, it is a beautiful labour-of-love. I wish I could keep it—and just go buy a blender. 

 But I cannot--because this young man and his girl are beloved and family and probably already have a blender. Guess I'll just have to knit it again--which is now on my agenda because his sister is newly engaged!

 PS The details of how I did it (because it is a hugely adaptable pattern) are on Pat’s Woolly Thoughts Ravelry group under the A New Angle sewing question thread.

15 ways to convince your NKF that you are crazy

Your NKF (non-knitting friend) could be male or female, but for brevity's sake I have made her female. And here are the many ways in which we convince her that we are certifiable.

1. Tell your NKF what you spent--how many dollars and how many hours--on the pair of socks you are knitting. Even though you have only finished one, do not show it to her. But if you must show it to her, do not let her try it on.
2. Tell her about your family trip to Montana, how you passed through Whitefish, how you happened to find on your phone (because you have an app for this!) a cute little local yarn shop, how you convinced your family to drop you off at Knit 'n Needle with the oh-so-generous encouragement that they not worry about you, that they go find something lovely to do for the entire afternoon, and--yes--even through dinner. Had they seen Glacier National Park? Not to worry: you'll be fine! 
3. Tell your NKF that you bought yarn at the shop. Why, no, you don't have enough yarn! Then laugh as if no-one has every said anything quite so absurd!
4. Tell her about that yarn you bought at the shop: you aren't sure if you have enough or what's the perfect project. But not to worry, the yarn will tell you what it wants to be.
5. Tell your NKF that while at the shop the most amazing thing happened! She'll never guess who was there! You actually got her autograph. No, not Frances McDormand (your mutually favourite actress), way better than that. Then gush about your favourite knitting teacher or author or gone-viral designer from Ravelry. (It might be overkill to tell her what this last bit means.)
6. Tell her that you just read the best book! Title: Free Range Knitter. Author: Stephanie Pearl-McPhee. Genre: knitting humour.
7. Tell your NKF that you went back to Montana . . . for a knitting retreat.
8.  Tell her that, at that retreat, you took a pattern drafting class. And remember that cute little T-shirt that she helped you buy? Well, now you know how to knit a version of it. You think you found the perfect yarn, 10% off at the retreat, still expensive because it is, after all, 15% cashmere. But you are so excited because you just know it's the perfect yarn to knit that T-shirt. (You won't have to tell her how much you spent.)
9. Tell your NKF that at that retreat you took another class, for which you had to take a nearly-naked photo of yourself with which you played paper dolls. In a moment of weakness, show her your silhouette.
10. Tell her that at that same retreat you took a six hour class in which you learned a skill worth the price of admission--how to get rid of the ugly loop at the end of a bind-off row. Do offer to show her the class swatch!
11. Tell your NKF that you recently watched a movie in which someone was knitting. You re-wound repeatedly to see if it was real or fake and then called all your knitting friends to tell them that Hilary Swank (or Judi Dench, or Kate Winslett, or Russell Crowe) really does know how to knit!
12. Tell her that, because she told you you just had to go there, you have now booked a trip to Hawaii--on a knitting cruise.
13. Tell her that, yes, it is expensive, but the cruise organizer has been so helpful finding you someone to share your stateroom with. No, you do not know her, but she's a knitter: it'll be fine!
14. Tell your NKF that, no, you haven't finished knitting a) that second sock, b) that yarn you bought at the shop in Montana, c) that T-shirt you drafted. Act like this is perfectly normal.
15. But do tell her about that shawl from Victorian Lace Today--the one that took a month to knit the center panel and three months to finish the edging? Tell her how you cried as you finished. No, not because it was so beautiful. You cried  . . . because it was done.

Did I miss anything?
Thanks to the folks at Knit 'N' Needle for inspiring me!

Do I have enough?

The project around which I am procrastinating is another Best-of-Both--a combination of yarn + fabric, this time for a flowy, dressy jacket. The problem is that I found the perfect fabric and the perfect yarn . . . but don't know if I have enough of the latter. So it has sat . . . and sat . . . and sat.

Before it sat, I actually began the work to find out if I had enough yarn.

• I knit a swatch (and figured gauge).
• I wrote up a rough version of the pattern.
• I began knitting and stopped with the completion of one ball of yarn.

So here is what I now need to do.

1. Calculate # stitches one ball produced. (This is pretty easy: # stitches wide x # rows tall = # stitches one ball produced.)
2. Calculate # stitches each piece demands. (This is not as easy, because I have shaping in some of the pieces. But if I take the # stitches at a piece's narrowest point, and add the # stitches at its widest point, then divide by 2, I'll have the average # stitches in the piece's width. So average # stitches in width x # rows in length = # stitches in shaped piece.)
3. Add # stitches for all pieces, then divide by # stitches one ball produced = # balls the project will demand.

So this is what I have been avoiding. Why? In case I don't have enough yarn. What will I do if I don't have enough? Re-design the project: make some part of the garment shorter (the sleeves?) or narrower (the hem of its A-line?). There is always a solution.

For those of you who are in the middle of a project and not sure if you have enough to finish?

1. Find a place in the knitting where you used one ball of yarn.
2. Starting at the beginning of that ball and working to the end of that ball, calculate # stitches one ball produced (see step 1 above).
3. Calculate # stitches needed to finish: # stitches that remain x # rows that remain = # stitches needed to finish (see step 2 above, if the piece is shaped).
4. Divide # stitches needed to finish by # stitches one ball produced = # balls the finishing will require.

If you don't have enough? Can you give the piece 3/4 sleeves? Can you forgo the sleeves altogether? Can you rip off the edgings, use that yarn to finish, then work the edgings in another dye lot or yarn? Can you go on Ravelry to find more yarn?

There is always  a solution! When you work to find it, you flex your creative muscle (which is always a good thing). And when you find it, the sweater is often improved (becoming the piece it wanted to be all along).

Our knitting really does talk to us. We just need to learn how to listen.

procrastination (and overcoming it)

Sometimes we have something to do. It could be exciting and creative (working out an idea for a new sweater), or it could be mundane and monotonous (cleaning out the garage). Whatever the task, we can imagine—almost taste—the satisfaction of a job well done . . . but we can’t get started.

Procrastination is a most prevalent and human problem. It can come from many forces (from fear of failure to too many distractions to sheer laziness), but it always has the same result: we keep putting off the task. Whether exciting or mundane, we don’t start.

Our excuses are many.

• I need to do more research (before I start that sweater).
• I need to clean the bathroom (before I clean the garage).
• The job’s too big (otherwise I’d have done it already).
• I’m too tired for it right now (because just the idea of it wears me out).
• I have something I’d rather do (because it were fun I’d already have done it).
• Etc, etc, etc.

So here is my very most favourite quote of all time—one that I have used with my students, with my children, and with myself: ACTION PRECEDES MOTIVATION!

Just tell yourself that you’re going to give the next 20 minutes to the task. Just 20 minutes! Anyone can do something for twenty minutes!!!! (Actually, everyone can’t. I had a student who had to face a subject 5 minutes at a time. And he got through the course material, 5 minutes at a time!) But, truly, most of us can do anything for 20 minutes.

Our reward, after that 20 minutes, is that we get to do what we really want to do. Fine. And sometimes that’s what happens: *we work for 20 minutes, do something else, go back to the task and repeat from * until it gets done.

But more often, the first 20 minutes turns into 40 . . . then into 60 . . . then into 90 . . . and before we know it, the job is done. Because action precedes motivation! Rather than sitting around and waiting for motivation to strike (and it never will, not until the in-laws are parking in the garage or the sweater needs to be shown at VOGUE LIVE!), if we simply do something, the all-important, forward-propelling motivation will kick in.

As you can probably imagine, I have something I am avoiding. This was my little pep talk to myself: I’ll show the results as soon as action leads to motivation . . . which ends with a job well done!

knitting through the Olympics

So, I finished my Olympic project—just as I watched the closing ceremonies! How did you do with yours?

Mine was a pair of scarves—made from recovered yarn from two of many scarves I have made but not worn. Some of those scarves were easy, some were lace, but all suffered from not being quite the right shape for me—triangles with not enough tail and/or not enough curve at the neck.

So I thought about what had worked for me, and that took me back to my Shape It! Scarf from The Knit Stitch (a center triangle with long tails for wrapping). Could I use that as a model? It was garter: I want this one to be lace. How to shape the lace?

Many, many, MANY swatches followed. Finally I had a plan . . . and then I had the base . . . and then I started working the extensions . . . and then I ripped . . . and then an altered plan followed . . . and then I ripped some more.

I finished two scarves, but I think I knit the equivalent of four! Rip, knit, rip, knit. That was my Olympics.

Which was perfectly appropriate while I watched the challenges faced by the best athletes in the world. Why should anything wonderful be easy? Don’t we learn most from struggle?  And doesn’t the combination of struggle + triumph give us our podium moments?

I have met knitters who refuse to rip—some from denial, some from sheer stubbornness. (One student hung up on me at the end of a knitting call in which I suggested she rip.) And then there are those who will rip, but sadly and with an assumption of failure—that they have wasted time and effort and should have known better.

Not so! Albert Einstein said Anyone who never made a mistake never tried anything new. Henry Ford said Failure is an opportunity to begin again, more intelligently. And in my next book (dedicated to pattern drafting and all the skills that support it), I talk about the necessity of ripping. It is, simply, an inevitable part of the process.

This is how it is with athletics. All through the Olympic coverage, we heard of the challenges each athlete faced. Despite their successes, they were more defined by how they overcome adversity. And why should knitters be different from inventors, artists, or athletes? Learn, *struggle, learn better, do better; repeat from *. This is life.

So here’s one version of my Olympic project. The pattern will be up on Ravelry—as the Lace-Meets-Leaf Scarf—as soon as I get home to a model and a good camera. (That’s the other thing about athletics or knitting: the right equipment matters!)