Anklet

The pattern for this Anklet comes from Weldon’s Practical Knitter, Number 49, Twelfth Series (1890). It is also published in Weldon’s Practical Needlework, Volume 5, Interweave Press, 2001.

These anklets are described as being “warm and comfortable for riding and driving, and are also useful for walking on the moors in stormy weather” – something I would love to do! 

The original pattern calls for “dark brown Berlin wool” and “white Shetland wool,“ and knitting needles No. 12 and No. 8 (modern equivalents 2.50mm/US 2 and 4mm/US 6.) The anklet is knit “ in ribbed knitting” with “a lining of plain knitting” in two pieces, either flat or in the round, with the lining being sewn into the outside piece. There are also instructions for crocheted edges.

I used vintage Beehive Moorland 3 ply Sock & Sweater Yarn (1950s-1960s?) in number 580/Black Cofffee – All Wool, and Knit Picks Palette in White, on the size of needles stated in the pattern. The inside piece, knit on the larger needles, is looser than the brown, exterior piece, which is the one knit on the smaller sized needles. They fit, however, exactly around each other.

I cannot crochet so the upper edge on my anklet is a very reduced, rather pathetic series of single strand loops made with 2mm crochet hook. I have added the knitted Cyprus Edging to the lower cuff of the anklet, knit on 1.75mm/US 00. This pattern can be found in Weldon’s Practical Knitter, Number 55, Fourteenth Series, 1890, and in the facsimile series, Weldon’s Practical Needlework, Volume 5, Interweave Press, 2001.

The anklet measures just about 3” wide, 5” long, (both flat), and 6” around, unstretched. The flat brown piece measures 6” with a gauge/tension of 12 stitches to the inch; the white, 7” flat, with 7 stitches to the inch. The Cyprus Edging stands 1” high.

I do not own shoes from this era so I could not model the Anklet but I did try it on and it stretches comfortably, not out of shape, and stays in place when I walk, and is, of course, toasty warm for those walks on the moors in stormy weather!

{Note: All quotations are from the facsimile edition of Weldon’s Practical Knitter, Number 49, Twelfth Series (1890), published in Weldon’s Practical Needlework, Volume 5, Interweave Press, 2001}

Olympic Knitting

As the number of days before start of the 2012 Summer Olympics becomes less than the number of projects I have on my knitting needles and Knitting Register spreadsheet, I have been thinking about my decision to make this a personal marathon Year of Completion, and have decided to mark this effort with my own knitted Olympic memento because, most of all, I needed another project to add to the list! Startitis kicked in when I noticed that the Olympic rings bore a distinct resemblance to one of my sets of stretchy, multi-coloured  stitchmarkers, hence the name of my team/nation.

Looking at the logo for the London Olympics, which is made up of differently sized pieces, also made me think of all of my projects in different sizes or, more accurately, stages of completion (http://www.london2012.com/) For my flag, however, I used the clear version of the logo, white and black, with the Olympic rings/stitchmarkers in the official colours of green, red, gold, black and bright blue

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012_Summer_Olympics)

In a moment of total madness, I had thought of knitting this flag on multiple 0s needles with sock reinforcement yarn, and using those little markers for the rings. This idea was abandoned when a) I realised that this would take me twice/three/ten or more times longer to knit, sacrificing valuable Year of Completion knitting time to this project and b) I didn’t want, even more so, to sacrifice any of those stitch markers to the project as I can no longer get that kind and I particularly need the green ones in my circular knitting as they begin every round (Green for Go!)

Thus, with some level of sanity restored, I raided the KnitPicks’s section of my stash and found Black, Whirlpool, Pimento, Edamame and Custard for the rings. These were knit in I-cords on 3mm needles, as is the flag’s body and edges, and then stitched onto the flag, though not very evenly. The background is in KnitPicks’s Palette in White, and the letters and the edge of the flag is knit in Black. I did not, however, follow the example of the official logo and use the lower-case alphabet but did stick with a streamlined lettering, though without the slant. The alphabet is from Cross Stitch Calligraphy by Iva Polansky* I tried for the angular, 3-D edges, picked up and knit outwards from the body of the completed flag but they did not work out that well so I have, instead, evened them off. 

The flag measures 19 ½” wide and 10 ½” long, the letters and rings both 1 ¼” high, and it flies from one of my beloved Aero needles.

My only justification for this project is that knitting is one of the things I do best, far better than my swimming, kayaking, badminton or Pilates which isn’t an official event {yet} at the Olympics. So I have turned knitting into one of my sports this year. It is absorbing an unconscionable amount of time and I have to make even more of an effort to put the needles down and get out and walk, swim or do those daily Pilates to stretch out the muscles that are needed to do good knitting and keep up the standard of performance. Sad to say, excessive knitting can play havoc with the entire body but that is a subject for another time.

*Cross Stitch Calligraphy, Iva Polansky, London: Kyle Cathie Limited, 1994

Caps from Plimoth Plantation

I have been working on a lot of caps lately and finishing up some that have been languishing on the needles for some time. The rust-coloured one was the first one I made from the pattern, Knitted 17^th Century Cap with a Brim from Plimoth Plantation, Plymouth, Massachusetts – www.plimoth.org

The commentary in the pattern booklet states that there was “a variety of brim styles” on the caps from the early 17^th century, and that caps were sometimes”napped (brushed)” to create “a layer of fuzz” which was then “sheared or trimmed off,” rendering the stitches almost invisible and the cap looking more like one made of fabric rather than knitted.*

My caps are not brushed and the raised (purled) stitches make a nice decorative border along the rim of the cap.

 

The original pattern called for an Aran weight wool on 3.25mm/3 US needles at a gauge/tension of 5 stitches to the inch.  I wanted to make a boy’s sized cap so I worked with a finer wool on 2.75/2 US needles but the cap came out too small even for a boy. I love the wool, though, an unnamed, hand-dyed handspun in that glorious shade, given to me so long ago, I have forgotten when and by whom, so I kept the cap as is as it is a very pretty little one and beautifully shows off the ripple effect along the brim.

I started the second cap in an Aran weight, circa 1970s from my stash, on the suggested sized needles with the required gauge/tension. I had, however, to switch wools again as the knitting was too tight, creating pains in my hands and arms up to my elbows, trying to work it. I changed to three strands of Morehouse Merino Lace in a pale mint green on 4.75mm/7 US to get the required 5 stitches to the inch. I also made this cap a bit taller.

This is a quick and easy cap to knit and I have no doubt that I will probably do another one on coarser wool when I get all of the other different caps currently on needles, off of their needles.

*Knitted 17^th Century Cap with Brim, Plimoth Plantation 2004

Pincushion, Knitted Like a Lemon

 This project can be recommended as one of those “Quick! I need a gift for tomorrow” kinds. In spite of that, it has been languishing for some years in my box of UFOs from 19^th century, although mostly due to the choice of yarn. The lemon pieces can be knit in a hour or so and the leaves in less than that.  Sewing it all together took me just over an hour when I finally sat down and did it.

This pattern comes from Weldon’s Practical Knitter, Number 114, Twenty-Eighth Series (1895). It is also published in Weldon’s Practical Needlework, Volume 10, Interweave Press, 2004. The text states that the pincushion would be “a novel ornament for a drawing-room table, ” that it is “also suitable and pretty to hang on a Christmas tree, and “that a plate full of these useful trifles will form an attractive addition to a stall at a bazaar and realise a fair percentage of profit.”*

The original pattern calls for “single Berlin wool” in yellow and green and “a pair of No. 12 and a pair of No. 16 steel needles (modern equivalents 2.50mm / US2 and 1.75mm / US 00.) I made three lemon sections in Paternayan crewel wool but felt the shade of yellow was not lemony enough. The pieces sat around for a few years until I found KnitPick’s Palette in Canary which worked out much better. I also discarded the green shade of crewel wool selected for the leaves and, instead, used KnitPick’s Palette in Ivy.  Both the sections and the stem were knit on the designated sizes of needles. The little loop at the bottom of the lemon is a tight twist.

The lemon, according to the pattern, is knit in five sections and five leaves are knit for the top as well as a stalk. Five sections for the lemon does not, however, work out, so I only made four, putting the fifth section down to a misprint as four pieces creates a mirror set.

The pincushion measure 4” long in body and 6” around, with a tension/gauge of 7 ½” stitches to the inch.  It is stuffed with fleece that has been picked and carded.

*{Note: All quotations are from the facsimile edition of Weldon’s Practical Needlework, Volume 10, published by Interweave Press, 2004.}

Knitted Bath Sponge

The late 19th century saw many publications filled with patterns for all sorts of fashion and household accessories in all kinds of media. The material culture of any era can speak volumes beyond its appearances and uses some of which are lost in time but should not be ridiculed or mocked for a lack of understanding in later times. A dainty item such as this lacy sponge tells of a society highly concerned with cleanliness, and which also had the time to create, let alone use, such an object, and treat it carefully, as the pattern states that it should always be “hung up where the air can pass freely through it.” Many kinds of lace were popular in this era, again, for fashion and household accessories. This piece is knit in two lace circles which are then attached by double threading the blue cord though the outer eyelets. The pattern also suggests that “When necessary, unpick the blue stitching, which is purposely made conspicuous, wash and thoroughly dry the knitted sections, and again sew together.” The pattern comes from Weldon’s Practical Knitter, Number 130, Thirty-Second Series (1896), published in Weldon’s Practical Needlework, Volume 11, Interweave Press, 2004. The original pattern called for “unbleached knitting cotton, No. 8” and “four steel needles No. 9” whose modern equivalent is 3.75mm/US 5. I used DMC Baroque Crochet Cotton in Ecru. The interior is filled with “scraps of white rag” according to the pattern. The blue cotton cord, in Aunt Lydia’s Classic Crochet Size 10, was crocheted with a 2.50mm hook.

Weldon’s suggests a size, “if loosely worked, of nine inches across,” and mine came out at considerably smaller at just over 6” wide.

In spite of its name, the recommended use of this object is for cleaning windows. {Note: All quotations are from the facsimile edition of Weldon’s Practical Needlework, Volume 11, published by Interweave Press, 2004.}

Knitted Petticoat from the V&A

One of the greatest mysteries in the world of knitting lies in the stitches of a magnificent petticoat, hand-knit in two-ply cream wool, depicting animals, plants and foliage and what looks like insects, which is in the textile collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum (Museum Number T.177-1926; http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O10318/petticoat/)

As the museum online catalogue entry states, it is “an extraordinary feat of knitting skill unparalleled in any other known collection.”*

The first mystery is that it is knitted in the round, with no seams, measuring roughly 122” in width and almost 30” long which would seem to be too large to knit by either hand or frame. “Despite the large surface area, the pattern does not repeat.”* which is another breathtaking element.

All of the knitting is done in plain (stockinette) or raised (purl) stitch, creating seed stitches in some areas, all on a background of stockinette. The raised stitch was the most common way of creating a design on knitted items in the 18th century, knitted lace existing but rare and twist or cable stitches slowly emerging, more so in the 19th century. Another mystery is the size of the needles/wires, both in width and length. The petticoat is also catalogued as “unfinished”* but this may mean it does not have a waistband sewn on – I cannot say as I have never seen the piece in person.

The V&A has classified the petticoat as possibly being of Dutch origin from the first half of the 18th century, stating that a “similar garment was a petticoat knitted in a variety of abstract patterns within a diamond-shaped grid. Sold at Christies auction house in 1981, it too dated from the early 18th century and had both Dutch and English connections.”*

Had it ever been worn, it could have been under a skirt that was split open in a triangle or rectangle (depending on the fashion) in the middle of the front, displaying the fine knitted design as quilted petticoats were, as well as providing warmth over linen undergarments.



There are at least twenty-two different birds and animals depicted, including a rhinoceros and an elephant, many of them in the distinctive style of those found in printed images of the eras. The graceful lines of the plants and branches as well as the tails of the birds are also reminiscent of the prints on palampore hangings or drapery for beds and windows, often reproduced in the fabulous crewel stitchery of the 17th and 18th century. I have to admit these patterns are favourites of mine whether I am stitching or quilting them as seen in this palampore quilt I made about fifteen years ago.

I have, however, long wanted to knit some of the images in this petticoat. The main problem with doing that is that so little of it is available in photographs, and those always in sections. In the catalogue from the exhibition, Knit One, Purl One (Victoria and Albert Museum 01/01/1985-31/12/1985), the featured photograph, spread over two pages, shows the largest area that I have ever found but the catalogue itself is only 8 ½” tall by 8” wide. The images are very small and thus very, very difficult to see in order to count the stitches. Using the other few available images from the web, I have been trying to chart some of the creatures but then decided to begin with an easier version.



The Art of Knitting – Garments for Today from Patterns of the Past (edited by Eve Harlow, Glasgow and London: William Collins Sons and Company Limited, 1977) contains a pattern for a scarf with a chart of a parrot. The charting for the scarf motif is fairly faithful on a larger scale to the original although the head on the original is far more detailed and the stitch count on the whole original bird is, of course, greater. At least, however, I now have something to work and build out from, and I have already changed some of the stitches for the head to try to better capture the beak and the eye area of the petticoat’s parrot. I was not very successful, though, as far more stitches are required for all of the different textures. I can, however, try this design again, also working from the photograph of the original section in this book, which is possibly the best photograph I have ever seen of any part of the petticoat.

The Art of Knitting’s description of the petticoat varies slightly in measurements and states a gauge/tension of 22 stitches and 36 rows to the inch with approximately 2650 stitches to the row. My segment of the petticoat was knit on 0.75mm/US 00 needles, using KnitPicks Palette in Cream, with a gauge/tension of 12 ½” stitches and 16 ½ rows to the inch, and a slip and seed stitch border all round. The whole piece measures, on the blocking board, 7 ½” tall and 5 ½” wide. The parrot is 6 ½” long from the top of its head to the tip of its tail.

I took many photographs before I was able to get two halfway decent ones which showed the stitches. The tan-toned one at the top was taken in total darkness but is the sharpest in detail, and the one at the end of this blog shows the finished piece though not as clearly as the other image.

In the beginning of this post, I called the petticoat magnificent. It is beyond that but I cannot come up with a better word to describe it. Each time I look at it, I am stunned yet again by the drafting and charting that must have gone into its production let alone the workmanship The Dutch were renowned for their superb knitting but this is beyond spectacular.























*All quotations are from http://collections.vam.ac.uk/item/O10318/petticoat/)

Thrum Cap

I have always wanted to make one of these caps, not only because it looked life fun to knit but also because of its long connections with mariners.

I used a pattern from Wicked Woolens by Sally Pointer, who is widely respected in the field of historical and reproduction clothing. The patterns from Wicked Woolens not only come with clearly written instructions for the entire process of making the cap but also with extensive and valuable historical background and citations in text and images.

This style of cap can be documented back to the 16th century, in art, literature, personal and documentary writings. The shagginess is created by thrums which are the short lengths or trimmings off the loom or bits of fleece, worked into a knit stitch or knotted on.



For this cap, I used short strands of wool of various lengths of Lion Brand’s Fisherman’s Wool in Brown Heather on 5mm/US 8 needles. The cap is a tall one and is knitted to
a very large size and then fulled (felted) down to the required size. The thrums become solid but flexible and as they stand out from the hat, provide a certain barrier from the elements. If the rain and snow does get through them, the knitted fabric below is thick and durable.

Here is the hat before fulling.





















This type of cap was favoured by mariners and often became a designated one for the ship’s carpenter like Mr. Lamb in the film, Master And Commander – The Far Side of the World (2003). *




















My thanks to my friend, Russell, for modelling the cap.


*The Making of Master and Commander – The Far Side of the World – The Official Guide to the Major Motion Picture, Tom McGregor, New York/London: W.W. Norton, & Company, 2003