Showing posts with label cardigans. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cardigans. Show all posts

Thursday, February 27, 2014

rosemont and the wild ponies


Grandma bun and grandpa sweater. I am an old soul with a short skirt.

WHAT, pray tell, is better than wearing an enormous 100% wool cardigan that envelops you completely as you battle through a miserably endless winter? I can think of nothing else, especially now that I own one for the very first time. "Own" isn't even the right word, because it's not like I just plucked it from the gramps section of the thrift store and handed over $4 for it. This puppy was hand-knitted by yours truly, and it's astonishing to me that every fiber of its being has passed through my hands and grew before my eyes from a tiny little woolly sprout to this oversized blanket-with-sleeves that I never want to remove from my shoulders until Mr. Sun is back full-force on this side of the earth. There's something about knitting that feels much more involved and intimate than sewing (depending on the project, I guess), so I apologize for the sentimental maternal-like gushing that's going on here. Crafty high -- I can't think straight.


PATTERN: The pattern! It is the Rosemont Cardigan by Hannah Fettig, newly released in February 2014. It's a shawl-collar open front cardigan that's knitted seamlessly from the top-down. Being new to knitting, I still don't know where to start to look for patterns as I don't have any go-to designers yet. Ravelry is a wonderful resource but is absolutely overwhelming. Even if I filter by garment type, style, price, yarn weight, needle size, age/gender, and construction technique, there can still be hundreds of pages of patterns to sift through. And a lot of it is godawful. So, when I visited the blog of a local yarn company, Kelbourne Woolens, and saw they were hosting a knit-along for a new cardigan pattern, I jumped at the chance to have someone ELSE tell me what to knit. I liked that the Rosemont has no closures, is knitted with aran weight yarn, and is a basic, unisex style that's still pretty cute.


I'm grateful for the Ravelry group and knit-along because the pattern's wording for the raglan and neck increases was incredibly confusing to me (and others, thank goodness). If you decide to make this pattern, definitely consult this post first, which explains the logic and order of it all. I would have given up without that help, really. After that was all sorted out, I sped away from the group and finished the rest of the sweater within two weeks. The knit along is supposed to last two months! I am psychotic.


SIZE: I decided to knit the size that corresponded with a finished bust measurement of 39.5", with an added five inches of length to the body. It's the third smallest size out of 11 (eleven!) sizes, so I thought that even though 39.5 inches sounded baggy, it would be fine. The model in the pattern photos is wearing the 36.75" and she's quite slim, so I thought it'd be safe to go up just one size from her. Okay, wow, this cardigan ended up much bigger than I thought it would be, but luckily I'm a fan of oversized sweaters so I'm happy with it. I guess my row gauge ended up being way off because I even stopped knitting the sleeves a full 10 rows sooner than instructed.


YARN: The knit-a-long is using Terra yarn, which is a fancy baby alpaca/merino/silk blend that your girl here simply cannot afford, even if it would mean I could joyfully think of baby alpacas the whole time, whether or not that's what "baby alpaca" yarn actually means:


Cannot. handle. 

Anyway, for a big fat yarn-eating cardigan for an unconfident knitter, I went the economical route and chose Knit Picks' Andes del Campo in the color Smoulder Heather. I don't know what the public consensus is on the quality of Knit Picks yarn (thoughts?), but a 100% Highland wool yarn for $5.49/ball is hard to resist. I ended up using just over seven skeins so it's a relatively affordable sweater all things considered (not counting labor). It's pretty soft and not that itchy on bare skin. I think this is ACTUALLY the first authentic wool sweater I've ever owned and worn. I have a ton of store-bought cardigans that are either cotton or some acrylic cocktail mix.

The color is described as: ""Inspired by the warm glow of a bonfire, Smoulder Heather is a rusty burnt orange with mahogany undertones that is combined with heathered flecks of yellow, burgundy, and purple." It is definitely an autumn color, but it complements my coloring and it matches my boots, living room brick wall and hardwood floors so, you know, here it is in February. It looks toasty brown from afar but is actually quite complex:


CONSTRUCTION AND SHAPING: I taught myself how to do the knit stitch in continental style, which is SO much faster than English style, but I cannot for the life of me do purl stitches in continental style. I also can't knit continental on double-pointed needles, so my first sleeve felt like it took forever, especially since I always drop stitches accidentally on DPNs. I switched to the Magic Loop for the second sleeve, and since it was circular I could just knit continental nonstop without purling, so the whole sleeve took like 2/3 the amount of time.

Just after finishing the sweater, I couldn't get the shawl collar to roll properly. Wet-blocking helped me form the collar to proper shape, at least when flat, but as soon as I put it on it doesn't want to roll enough of the way back to cover more of the neck ribbing. I don't know if it's supposed to, and I can't tell if it's just because my sweater is so oversized it doesn't fit my shoulders properly. The ribbing does seem laughably deep:


THE PONIES: Okay, I can't ignore the ponies. I sewed this basic dress in January from some silky poly I found at Jomar. Of course I liked the print, even though these are insane, chaotic horses tromping about all upside down and round about. Took me awhile to figure out which was way up -- or which way had the most upright horses. The dress itself is okay. Sleeveless, elastic waist, lined skirt, self-bound neckline and armholes. It doesn't fit beautifully so it actually benefits from being overshadowed by a huge grandpa cardigan. The pattern is (roughly) the bottom layer of the BurdaStyle Double Layer Tank dress, which I've used before.


Alright my little alpaca babes, how are you staying warm? Is anyone else knitting the Rosemont or knitting/sewing something just as snuggleh?


Ravelry notes here.


Saturday, September 29, 2012

another renfrew mod


Think you've sewn (or seen) enough versions of the Sewaholic Renfrew already? Think again! Think the Renfrew pattern is too casual for your glam dress-stuffed wardrobe? Think AGAIN! That's what this blog is all about, after all: thought-provoking and intellectually stimulating content.

rofl.


Well, I hope you didn't think I made this dress from the Renfrew because I did not. Urban Outfitters made it so I could wear it to lure you in. Louisville didn't get an Urban O. until after I left, so it's nice living in a city where their stuff is already heavily circulated in consignment shops. I'm still not ready to commit to a fully self-stitched wardrobe, so I supplement with secondhand items. One day, though, I'll be head-to-toe in Andrea originals... maybe... ehhh.


So what is handmade here? Duh, the boring cardigan. I laughed when I finished it because it's pretty sloppily made and just reminds me of a $14.99 Merona brand cardigan you'd give your mom for Christmas or something. But I still like its practicality and length and have worn it a couple times already. Hopefully this kind of styling helps its cause.


This red ponte knit is the same I used for my stupid Cynthia Rowley dress from a couple posts ago. I bought like 5 yards of it for real cheap from Jomar, the crazy fabric outlet (is it an outlet? What is it?) in south Philly. Their inventory is heavy on the stretchy fabrics right now. What better way to spend a Saturday afternoon than digging through tabletop mountains of knit yardage of questionable quality? That was not sarcasm.

Making the cardigan version of the Renfrew was quite simple. I shortened it by 2" first because I like my cardigans to fit at the curve of my back (or be really long) so I don't look like a balloon when I wear them with skirts. The front is normally cut on the fold, so I just added a placket to the front pattern piece at the fold line. Cut two front pieces instead of one. This placket extension had enough width to be folded over and still be able to overlap the placket on the other side (1 1/4" total with the intention of making a 5/8" final placket).


On each end of the neck band and bottom band, I extended it by the width of the finished button placket (5/8"). Instead of connecting the bands end-to-end in a circle like on the original Renfrew, I stitched their edges so it'd form a neat square at the top and bottom of the placket. I can explain this in more detail if you'd like.


Too-big buttons, ha. I need to go button shopping so I'm better prepared for my on-a-whim projects:


I did not think about the necessary ease for a cardigan, so this fits like a t-shirt but open at the front. If I make another Renfrew cardigan, I'll size it up so I can wear it over other clothes more comfortably.


It's hard to stop at one when you're working with this pattern, so I made another in a sweater knit, also from Jomar:


I'm not as crazy about this one because the only thing I can wear it with right now is this granny skirt. Literal granny skirt. It was my grandma's -- I chopped off the hem at some point during my college years. I used to wear these warm brown tones all the time because they go well with my complexion, but I've ventured away to cooler colors. I'm kinda thinking of moving back that way this autumn. In fact, I'm currently working on something else now in this same brown.


So, friends, neighbors, far-away sewsters, how do you feel about a Renfrew cardigan or sweater? Dare to try? I know Tasia's revisiting the pattern over on her blog, so it's as good a time as any to bring back out that little green envelope! 

Enjoy the rest of your weekend, y'all hear.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

cardi-gangbuster



I have an obsession with drapey and slightly oversized cardigans. My collection of them is reasonable right now, but I have plans to totally take over my closet and my life with them. This was my first attempt at making one and it has only fueled the cardi fire. It's one of those pieces I want to plan all my outfits around so I can wear it non-stop.


It's a Vogue pattern, oddly. I say "oddly" because I almost never buy nor make Vogue patterns. They're either weird or, as we've discussed, make it impossible to tell what the garment looks like because the sample is made up in crazy busy fabric or the model is crouching away from the camera in pain.


Luckily this Very Easy Vogue 8819 just featured some dead-eyed illustrated women on the cover so I didn't have to interpret too much. It has sleeveless and full-length sleeve options, too, but I went with the half-sleeves so I could cross over seasons.


As you can see, the main design features are all these bias-cut pieces that intersect at various seams. As you can also see, it's an OCD print-matcher's basic nightmare. If you are obsessive about your stripes, perhaps you shouldn't attempt this pattern in a striped fabric. Maybe I cut slightly off but I sometimes found it impossible to match the stripes all the way down certain seams, so I just had to focus on making it symmetrical instead of perfectly continual. I ain't mad. It's easier to get away with jaggedness in thin and narrowly-spaced stripes than in thicker stripes.


The back center seam is the one where print-matching is entirely possible AND crucial, however. The pattern actually has you cut two pieces for the lower back that you're supposed to stitch together at the C.B., but I straightened out the flare and cut it on the fold to save myself even more stripe-matching agony. This just meant I had to sew a V to an inverted V, but for me it was worth the technique swap. 



I made a Medium, and you can tell it's a little big because the seams dip off my shoulders, and I'm often tempted to push the sleeves up. I like my cardigans to be a bit slouchy, though, especially when I wear them over short or more fitted dresses like this one. Makes the coverage feel more balanced or something.


Let's talk about the cardigan flare, though. I narrowed the A-line of the bottom back pieces by about five inches overall. I like 'em slouchy but I don't like 'em boxy. I also didn't want it to look like I had an Oreo-themed curtain draped over my booty:


So that's that. A cardigan, just in time for the drippiest 103-degree death heat of summer. I'm just that kind of seamster. I make short-sleeve floral tops in January and elbow-length cardigans in July. 

Oh and don't think I forgot about our little agreement from my last post. I never break a blog promise, so here you go. I went with this McCalls model because our dresses were the same color:


You guys, this pose was surprisingly difficult to master. I almost popped my hip out of socket. Your feet are pointed completely sideways, in line, but your torso and head have to face directly forward, and you have to be able to touch your knee while your body is upright and not slouched forward at all. Not to mention the Tyra eye smoulder. That's BUSINESS. Who knew pattern modeling would take such quad strength? 

Keep it up, McCalls. Those girls got talent.

So who shares my cardigan obsession, even in summer? Or maybe I should ask who isn't a fan of cardigans, so I can squint at you (Tyra-style) through my computer screen and say, "...f'real?"