Plunder!

A couple weeks ago, I visited my parents and ended up going through my Mom's old knitting magazines (Anna and Pingouin, mostly). Mom doesn't knit any more, but several of her afghans from the mid-70s are still in use at my childhood home. (If by "in use" I mean "folded in a closet because my mom can't bear the colours any more but the yarn is indestructible").

I have very fond memories of watching TV, sleeping, reading, and spending a good 10% of my childhood under these brightly coloured blankets. So I was very pleased when Mom offered me the source of all the stitches she used:



Someone has studiously whited-out the price on two places on the cover, then scrawled $3.50 in grease pencil. I suppose this means that my ever-thrifty mother probably bought it second hand. I'd been looking for a good stitch dictionary for some time, but I think I can stop looking now. This book is surprisingly complete, and even contains a graph for a jacquard squirrel.

I'm not enjoying the current vogue for'80s-throwbacks, so I was surprised to find a couple patterns in an issue of Vogue Knitting International (Spring/Summer 1987) that I actually liked. Like this pretty cabled tunic:



I guess I like anything based on Victorian fashion.

Of course, there were also some patterns that remind us that knitting, can go as painfully awry as any other human activity:



Yes. Those are feathers at the neckline, thanks for asking.

Cartoons should not be sad

Last night, I went to see this year's Oscar-nominated short films.

Kunio Kato's animated La Maison en Petits Cubes made me cry so much I thought I might have to leave the theatre and wait for my friends in the lobby.

I cry pretty easily at movies (and at books, and at sad news stories on NPR). But I think I can defend myself in this case. This is literally the saddest cartoon that has ever existed. It's beautifully animated and well-produced, with an impressive central metaphor about time and loss and how fucking terrible it is to be an old person who outlives your spouse and friends.

Aw dang. Now I'm crying again.

Why don't you just watch it for yourself so we can NEVER TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN:



(I was only able to find a short clip of this INCREDIBLY SAD MASTERIECE OF SADNESS. It doesn't capture the heart of the film very well so you should probably just rent it. And then call me and we can have a good cry.)

I am Podcasted

My friend Sarah Buchanan has started a podcast called Life After Radio. So far, it seems to be documentary series focused on the heartbreaking and subtle stuff of real life. Sarah is a radio professional with excellent taste, so I'm sure this series will be great.

The first episode involves many of my Vancouver friends and acquaintances reading old love letters. You can hear me talking about the West Vancouver Memorial Library's collection of love letters from the early 20th century at http://lifeafterradio.ca/.

I don't have cable, and I spend about 7 hours of every day listening to podcasts and internet radio. So for me, this is pretty much like being on TV. This American Life is my Oprah. (Which reminds me -- one of my New Years resolutions was to fork over some money to National Public Radio! Better get on that).

Book review: Retro Knits

Retro Knits: Cool Vintage Patterns for Men, Women and Children from the 1900s through the 1970s
Edited by Kari Cornell and Jean Lampe
Voyageur Press, 2008

This fun title gathers 50 patterns published between 1910 and 1975. Women's sweaters dominate, but there are a few patterns for accessories, as well garments for men men and children. Unsurprisingly, the styles vary widely as the book moves through the knitting trends of the 20th century. I like the 1940s, but the 70s are gross.

The book's chief attraction is its collection of high-quality image reprinted from patterns and advertisements. It's great style inspiration, and it would be good for finding vintage touches to add to modern patterns.

That said, actually knitting one of these designs seems like a bit of a gamble. The patterns list yarn weight, fiber, yardage and gauge, but don't suggest specific yarns. There are no photos of finished projects apart from the original images. I'm interested in seeing what people make from this book.

Sadly, my favourite garment in the book, a brilliant vest from the 1910s, is not included in the patterns. If it was. I'd cast on in a heartbeat:



The book does have a pattern for a pullover with the same combination of garter stitch and wide ribbing. But the smallest size is 40 inches across the chest (and here I thought people of the past were smaller). So I'll just have to reverse-engineer this one myself and hope that it looks decent.

Transforming a Thriftstore Sweater: part 2

Many days and trips to Dressew later, I've finally finished customizing the sweater I bought from the Salvation Army.

Here it is before:



And after:



Dying the sweater was surprisingly easy. My mom will be very pleased to know that I didn't spill a drop (my mom was traumatized by an incident in the mid-90s involving my sister, black dye, and some linen tea towels. This is why I don't own "good" tea towels).

The new colour, achieved with three tins of Dylon Cold Dye A30 (Turquoise Saga), is definitely more flattering that the original greyish-greenish-blue. I'm not completely happy with the results though. You can't see it in this photo, but there's some streaking and uneven colour on the sleeves and hood. It seems like excess dye gathered in the folds of the fabric when I left it to air-dry after dying. The front of the sweater is a little darker that the back. I'm pretty sure this is also because of the way I dried the sweater, flat on a towel spread across the large bulletin board I use for a blocking board. A spin through the washer and dryer made the streaks a little less noticeable, but didn't even out the colour completely.

I am very happy with the new buttons though. I spent more on them ($11) than I should have, given the imperfect dye job. But once I saw them, I had to have them. They're hard leather, a warm, shiny saddle brown:



Dying garments is a gamble, so I shouldn't be surprised by the flaws in the colour. I'm still not sure if I'm going to sweater out of the house yet or not--I'm going to ask a few friends for their opinion. I am going to keep it, though. One day I'm going to reverse engineer a pattern from it, and knit myself the perfect sweater-hoodie. And I'll put leather buttons on that one too.

Cost of sweater - $5.26
Cost of dye - about $11.00
Cost of bucket for dying - $0.00
Cost of wooden spoon for dying - $1.00
Cost of buttons - about $11.00

Final cost of project: $28.26
If I wear this sweater outside the house, it will be totally worth it. If I don't ... not so much.

What's going on 'round here

1. Gauge swatch for a lacy cardigan. The pattern is Liesl by Ysolda Teague.

2. Orange boatneck t-shirt purchased for $1.99 at a thrift store in Kelowna, BC. I didn't realize at the time that it has a faint grease stain on the front. Now that I've noticed it, I can't wear it without feeling slobbish. Since I found a lone tin of black Dylon Cold Dye in my craft stuff, I thought I might use up two unused objects in one go. It might work, it might not. Worst case scenario: I waste an hour of my time and a tin of dye. Best case scenario: I own a nice black t-shirt.

3. Fingerless mittens, finished about a week ago. I made them using two tiny skeins of light blue vintage Red Heart wool, purchased at a church thrift store in Centralia, WA. This amazing thrift store also yielded an 8mm camera, a large fabric cutting board, and two vintages marmalade jars made of opaque cream-coloured glass. Working with vintage yarn was a bitch. I used Jill Toporkiewicz's free pattern for Waffle Stitch Fingerless Gloves.

4. Green velvet pincushion purchased last week from the Salvation Army at McDonald and Broadway for $1.99. I can't decide if it's ugly or cute or both. It's the same 1970s olive green as the carpet that covered every inch of my childhood house.

Belated Book Review: Creepy Cute Crochet

Creepy Cute Crochet by Christen Haden
Quirk Books, 2008.

This book collects 21 patterns for amigurumi zombies, vampires and other B-movie staples. Most of the patterns work from a single body/head template, with variations in colour and construction. The simple designs result in small, stylized creatures--appealing little figures that combine the subects of action figures with the form of baby toys.

I bought Creepy Cute Crochet on an impulse. It wasn't that I felt any great desire to make myself a troupe of Chuthlus or hoarde of tiny zombies. I have more than enough kitchy clutter as it is. But I instantly knew that this book would make an invalable source of ideas for handmade gifts. Inexpensive, quick handmade gifts that would surely delight most of my nerdy friends.

Here are the two projects I made from the book:

Creepy Cute Crochet does have some drawbacks. The charts are difficult to read, and the construction is finicky, especially when the patterns use joined rounds instead of spiral construction. Actually making these amigurumis is far from effortless, and less fun than other patterns I’ve tried. I’d recommend making your own improvisations as necessary.

The results are generally good, though, especially if you take some extra care in the finishing. Both of my projects were well-received, and I’ll likely make more Creepy Cute gifts in the future.