Top-Down Set-In Seamless Sleeves (WHAT?!?!)

Tasha, the stylish genius behind By Gum, By Golly, just may be my new favorite craft blogger. She did not invent this ingenious method for sleeve knitting, but her tutorial is beautifully written and illustrated, and discovering her blog was nothing short of a "Eureka!" moment in the process of designing the Flamingo Cardi.

With all the garter rib pieces finished and seamed together, I found myself faced with large, asymmetrical armholes, and absolutely zero experience shaping set-in sleeves from scratch. Not willing to just wing it on something as structured as a sleeve cap, I googled for days, looking for the right tutorial, the right shaping wizard tool, something designed for knitting, not sewing, although I knew I could manage to convert the basic concepts if really necessary. Nothing I found seemed exactly suitable, especially for the unusually shaped armholes now staring me down.

Somehow, somewhere in there, I stumbled across Tasha's tutorial. And it was like one of those beautiful moments of clarity you read about. The room seemed brighter, music played somewhere.

The basic gist of it is, without stepping on Tasha's toes - because really, you should go to her for this - you pick up stitches around the armhole, and then work short rows centered at the shoulder, increasing one stitch at a time on either side, until you get to a certain marked point near the bottom of your sleeve, and then just start working in the round. It's so simple. And so obvious after the fact, in the "why didn't I think of that, except of course I never would have" kind of way.

It did take a bit of finagling on my part, due to that crazy asymmetry of my sweater design. But I've got one sleeve finished now, and it hangs perfectly. I did the first sleeve entirely on dpns, but I have a few uneven stitches sprinkled through it, probably due to working with a looser gauge that I'm accustomed to. For the second sleeve, I picked up the stitches with dpns but then thought better of it and switched to my circular to shape the cap. I'm ready to work in the round now, and I may have to switch back to dpns soon, since I'll have to start decreasing down the sleeve and my stitches already barely fit on my single size 9 circular. I really should get a second one. Knitting in the round on two circulars is SO much better than dpns.

I also went lace hunting for the trim yesterday morning, and scored the perfect pale pink floral lace. It's a large-patterned lace like on the original sweater, and while it's not a flawless color match for the yarn, it's pretty dang close and I think it's going to look lovely! Better make sure I know where my ballpoint sewing needles are...

Intro to Designing

Yeesh, I am terrible at blogging. Sorry. I have resolved to do better.

And I mean that! I made several resolutions this year in the general vein of most people's resolutions - stay fit, eat more veggies, etc. But two of my resolutions were specific to my knitterly self - challenges that seem daunting and even perhaps a little tedious, but which I believe will pay off in so many ways if I can really stick with them!

One - I will stop ignoring this blog. Its little bookmark toolbar button taunts me, but I so often feel that I have nothing interesting to contribute, and even if I do, I've already written it all on some project page on Ravelry, or gone into lengths on Facebook, and I don't want to hash it all over again. But I so admire and adore those women who have truly found their home in the loving, knitwear-ensconced arms of their blog readers. Stephanie Pearl-McPhee! Rachael Herron! Kim Werker! I know I can make this blog into something better. Something not utterly forgettable.

Two, and this is where the rewards involve actual money (needles crossed!), I will publish a pattern. An actual, original design by yours truly. I will be a real designer.  I have dreamed of designing for years but I'm such a neurotic perfectionist that I could never bring myself to actually ask for money for anything I'd just improvised.  But, I've been a stay-at-home-mom now for over a year and a half, and failing repeatedly at selling handknit sweaters and scarves and hats, not because they're bad but frankly because they'e too good, and therefore too expensive for anyone who might stumble across my dinky little Etsy shop.  If I can make a pattern, a pattern that people love and lust after and will happily pay even $5 for, the return on my time and labors will be SO much more.

For over a month now, I have been working on a sweater for my daughter, with the intention from the get-go that this would be my first non-free pattern published on Ravelry. I took extensive notes, charted like a woman possessed, and did ALL THE MATH. SO MUCH MATH. I finally finished the sweater - what was supposed to be a sweater dress but turned out merely tunic-length - this week, blocked it, and took the niblet out into the glorious Oregon January sunshine, and took nearly a hundred photos.

Meanwhile, I have spent hours and hours (I didn't even keep track of how many) writing the pattern to a publishable polish. Creating the charts in a spreadsheet, turning them into images that could be popped into the pattern document. Adding in the photos of niblet in her new sweater. And then EVEN MORE MATH to make a larger sized version, since I feel like a jerkface charging for a pattern that only comes in one size.

And now it's been put out there in my pattern testing group on Ravelry for beta knitting and initial feedback. I am so nervous it's making me kind of ill. What if everyone thinks my style of pattern writing is totally incomprehensible?! I've never written down knitting instructions for someone who didn't live inside my brain! If I have to scrap large parts of it because they just don't make sense to anyone not me, I think I may cry. Or vomit. We shall see.

On the other hand, maybe my testers will think my pattern is genius! They'll tell me its clarity is refreshing, its layout is stunning, its charts are works of graphical spreadsheet wizardry.

One can only hope.