Charting Fair Isle Patterns
Our love affair with the vintage fair isle look continues, and while knitting from the original instructions may seem straightforward, I sometimes get questions from concerned fair isle pattern buyers about whether the instructions are written or charted – this blogpost is intended to encourage those nervous souls to dive in and chart your own! It’s pretty common for vintage fair isle patterns to be written with no chart representation and being a lazy moo myself I always appreciate the appeal of charted patterns for ease and speed, but there’s also something rather satisfying about deciphering the written instructions, like revealing a secret code, so here are some tips for how to do it.
I’ll use this 1940s jumper with fair isle yoke that I’m working on at the moment as an example – as you can see you’ll obviously have a visual clue from the pattern picture so you’re not exactly working in the dark. It’s also fairly common for patterns from this era to suggest which colours you should use, although don’t feel you have to stick to their suggestions. This particular pattern suggests natural, black, blue and red which I’ve decided to stick to. (more…)
1949 Vogue Blouse
Well hang out the bunting and slice the cake, it’s a Skiff blogpost … just catching up with some pictures from finished projects and thought I’d share this one. I know what you’re thinking – I’m looking pretty pleased with myself right? In my defence I earned that smug look … this blouse caused me a fair amount of grief as I was suffering from knitter’s elbow throughout the knitwork. This sounds like a ridiculously mild complaint in the bigger scheme of things (and it is), but is a common knitter’s problem along the lines of tennis elbow (I’ve never been near a racket in my life). I now wear a bizarre strap thingy on my arm when I knit and can be regularly seen doing strange arm exercises to prevent a comeback.
The classic combination of 2-ply and 3.25mm needles was taken from Vogue Knitting No.35 (1949) and knitted up to a tension of 14 rows to the inch in a tiny moss-stitch … let’s just say it’s not the quickest thing I’ve ever knitted (although it still beats my 14-year-long pimped Vogue shirt), but it’s here in the world and I’m making the most of it.
My friend Sibilla took the picture round the back of a local ancient church where we then proceeded to have a crafty cig and a couple of miniatures before the vicar caught us.
Smug? Damn right.
Another Lesson Learned …
I’ve been knitting from vintage patterns for a few years now, but I never stop learning. Case in point is this wonderful pattern for a Sports Jumper with fabric trim from a 1935 edition of The Needlewoman.
In theory it looks pretty straightforward – the bottom half is knitted from left to right in a horizontal ridge (knit row, purl row, purl row, knit row), the back and front yokes are knitted vertically with increases on the front yokes to fit around the, fake (as I thought) pockets. I always do an initial sketch based on the measurements, tension and instructions from the original pattern, and from that I re-size it if necessary and create a new sketch … I followed my usual procedure in this case, but just couldn’t get my head around the top front yokes: the instructions show that a 3″ stretch on one side of both pieces is knitted in stocking stitch and I couldn’t work out from the picture where that should fit.
Writing it out now, it seems so obvious but I spent ages agonising over it, and was on the verge of writing this off as a pattern mistake and over-ruling it, creating my own version. Then I remembered one of my own rules – never forget to THOROUGHLY comb the ‘make-up’ instructions. I’d made the fatal mistake of assuming I’d find out all I needed to know about the anatomy of this jumper just by looking at the picture which meant I just quickly gone over the most vital part of how to actually put it together. Are you one step ahead of me? Yes my friends, the pockets weren’t fake, the stocking stitch edges in the top yokes were the pocket backs.
I’m feeling pretty stupid now I’m writing this as it seems so obvious, but it stands as a valuable lesson to other vintage knitters … don’t get complacent and make assumptions about the designs you’re knitting from, vintage patterns constantly amaze me with their little details and surprises. Read the pattern once, then turn down the music/TV/dog and re-read it without any distractions, make sure you’ve got a complete understanding of how the garment is put together.
Here’s another tip for free: don’t try and work it out at 9 o’clock at night, half a bottle of wine down, with Queens of the Stone Age shouting at you in the background (I mean on the iPod, they weren’t actually in the kitchen arguing with me). I’m writing this in the morning with a bit of Tom Waits & Crystal Gayle playing quietly and a clear head, and it seems blatantly and embarrassingly obvious now (heh, sheepish sigh).
Vintage Hat Love
As I uploaded a P&B Cap & Bolero pattern yesterday I had a nagging feeling I’d seen it before somewhere – then I remembered that I’d knitted the cap from it a couple of years ago.
Can’t remember what yarn I knitted it with (stupidly didn’t record it on Ravelry), but I think it was a straightforward angora, and used about 75g. It was pretty quick to knit too, although those bobbles can be a bit fiddly. Haven’t aired it in public yet – you need the right hairstyle for this and I haven’t got round to perfecting the whole look.
The bolero’s rather lovely too – fancy a go? You can buy the pattern here …
Vintage Wool Update: Excelana Launch
Excelana 4-ply
Choosing the right yarn to knit up your vintage pattern takes time and effort and most of the enquiries I get are about which wool to use, so I got geekily excited when I heard that vintage knit queen, designer and author Susan Crawford was about to launch her own brand of wool to accompany her Stitch In Time series of books. I caught up with her at its grand unveiling at Unravel in Farnham – she’d only received the first batch that week and was thrilled with the result. Me too when I got it home … I knitted up a sample to find that it combines softness with strength beautifully and lives up to its description: soft handling, great stretch and excellent stitch definition.
Excelana is produced in conjunction with Devon-based John Arbon of Fibre Harvest and is 100% British wool, spun from the fleece of the North Devon Exmoor Blueface and the Blue Faced Leicester (I love sheep names). At present only the 4-ply is available, but DK, Aran and a unique 3-ply are also in the pipeline, with the promise of more shades to accompany the existing vintage-inspired palette of eight colours.
You can read more about it and place an order through through the Excelana website or through Susan Crawford’s Vintage site.
Home Notes – Vintage Classics
Home Notes April 1935
I was lucky enough to come across a number of early 1900s and 1930s Home Notes magazines recently. Loathe as I am to part with them, I know they’ll just end up sitting wrapped up in cellophane in my vintage knitting/magazine collection, so I’ve loaded them up onto the site. Of course, that couldn’t just be the end of it … I sat browsing through them and realised the descriptions were getting longer and longer as I got lost in these fascinating snapshots of a complicated era, so my explorations have ended up here instead.
Home Notes was a women’s magazine including fashion features, stories, recipes, advice and knitting patterns … there’s not a lot of information out there, but from what I can gather it possibly ran from the early 1890s – 1960s, hitting its readership peak in the 1950s.
I’m presently lost in the April 1935 edition – the magazine flaunts its debs and celebs like the the 1930s depression had never happened and it’s an odd mixture of ‘ladies, know your place’ and female pioneering spirit. An advert for Ovaltine is endorsed by the actress Ida Lupino, who went on to be the only woman director in Hollywood in the ’40s. An article by Dorothy Crosbie is entitled ‘I Don’t Envy Today’s Debs’ with the byline ‘Miss Modern’s struggle for a good time is too much like hard work‘, and concludes ‘Now Miss 1935. I want you to look at yourself and take stock of your assets. Are you pretty, smart, well-groomed, intelligent and socially presentable? Yes? Well then, why in the world is it necessary for you to indulge in this breath-taking pursuit of anything male?‘ (more…)
Vintage Winter Warmers
Heavens it’s parky, winter is well and truly here – who said you can’t keep warm and look stylish? With that in mind I’ve put together a small selection of my favourite vintage winter knitting patterns. No-one could accuse me of being a sporty type and I prefer the apres to the ski, so there are some cosy jumpers from the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s which I can see looking very chic in that little cabin in Gstaad someone’s bound to invite me to one day (I can wait).
My favourites are the ribbed La Laine Lady’s Sweater complete with frolicking reindeer and the cheeky Reveille Snow Girls designs. The Viyella Skating Outfit’s pretty spectacular too, although I’d have to knit myself some kind of complementary fair isle rear padding – I’ve only sported skates the once and still bear the scars.
Looks like we’re in for a cold few months, so wander over to the Vintage Winter Knitwear section and help yourself to some winter style, vintage style.
Knit Me Some Time
Devil in a pink blouse
Is that a cobweb I see in the browser window corner? And a big dustpile at the bottom? Hmm, I haven’t been very active on the blog front lately have I? Got myself absorbed in helping to organise a food festival and it’s all I can do to keep up with sending the patterns out, but the size 12s are still clacking away in the evenings.
So here’s a little catch-up and a tiny bit of catharsis for me too – if you’re not interested, tune out now. I’ve managed to finish my pink Vogue blouse which has taken *drum roll* a year to complete *cymbal smash*. Mind you I haven’t sewn the buttons on yet and even that seemingly tiny task has been known to delay projects by months, so who knows.
In the meantime I have a mountain of patterns languishing in my vintage vault which I haven’t had time to upload, and my site has decided it can’t quite cope with the visitors it’s receiving so I’ve added an efficient cache plug-in which, wouldn’t you know it, clashes with the shopping cart. Moan moan moan – you don’t want to hear about my problems right? Well I did warn you.
Meanwhile I’m busy eyeing and sizing up my next project and am considering a fair isle number, which sadly will need to be sized up as I’ve (ahem) sized up myself a little in recent months.
I also need to have a word with myself about the size of my ‘I can’t possibly part with that’ pile – the picture above is the most recent candidate. I meant to sell it, I really did, but have you seen it? Such a daring colour combo, such detail … nope, you’re not having it, it’s all mine.
Catharsis complete, thanks for listening. Has anyone ever told you you’re a great listener? Hey, come back …
Vintage Knitting Pattern Copyright
I had an email the other day from somebody asking me why I’m not selling .pdf copies of patterns instead of the originals.
It’s a good question and a hotly debated topic over on the relevant Ravelry boards - I’m sure there are more sales and profit to be made through selling copies (although to be honest I’m never going to fund that pied-a-terre in Paris through vintage pattern proceeds, originals or copies).
This isn’t going to be an in-depth post about copyright licencing, but briefly … UK creative licence states that copyright remains in force for the lifetime of the creator plus 70 years or, where the author is unknown, 70 years from the date the pattern was published (see the UK Copyright Service website for more info). I know there are many people out there selling copies of patterns and it’s unlikely there’ll be any comeback – it seems to be nigh on impossible to trace who created the patterns in the first place and the larger concerns who bought up some of the vintage companies in the ’50s and ’60s don’t seem to be overly quick to respond to any queries (although I’d be sweating slightly if I was selling any Vogue pattern copies.)
I’d feel uncomfortable about selling vintage patterns without at least trying to do some research, but sadly I just don’t have the time to do this at present. The fact that the author is untraceable makes me feel a little sad too – these fantastic designs were created by unsung talented designers and, at the risk of sounding a bit pompous, I’d rather not cash in on the fact that they weren’t properly recognised at the time.
Besides all that the patterns themselves are rather special items and that’s the business I’m in – selling the original patterns not the copies *insert usual book-championing arguments I’m prone to spout at the drop of a hat in the face of any pro-Kindle debates*. Admittedly it makes the patterns harder to part with but more enjoyable to send out to like-minded enthusiasts.
Having said that, I do keep a scan of every pattern I sell so I have a huge library and may re-consider the possibility one day (in a mythical future where I have more time or they’ve decided that hey we were wrong, cloning is ethically okay really), particularly for the 1930s patterns which are possibly out of copyright already.
There, got that off my chest. Now where was I? Oh yes … compiling an iTunes compilation list for a friend …
*Note*: For US copyright info, read Kristen Rengren’s post.
Pimp My Vogue Blouse
Welcome to the June edition of Skiff’s ‘Pimp My Vintage Knit’ feature … don’t hold your breath for the next one, this one took me about 14 years to finish – yes, that’s 14 years. Excuse the blurry pics, but if I wait to get around to taking another one it’ll take me another 14 years to write this blog post.
This blouse project has moved around with me in a half-finished state from house to house, country to country, sadly neglected and rejected until I delved into the bottom of a long-forgotten stash box a couple of months ago.
The Original Vogue Blouse
The pattern’s from Vogue Knitting No.48 (1956) and I seem to remember I originally had the horrible idea of attaching a white fake fur collar to it but never got around to it (some things are best left unpimped) so shoved it in a bag … procrastination has always been my middle name.
So here it is 14 years down the road, and the night after I rediscovered it I had a weird dream about red wool stitching around the collar, sleeve edges and button band and a fake pocket … et voila.
Obviously I can’t remember what wool I used although I’d never heard of Jamieson & Smith at the time so it’s pretty safe to say I probably used a bog-standard baby 3-ply. Chances are I bought it from a wonderful wool shop which used to take up a large space in Bloomsbury Way down the road from the British Museum (I lived in an attic not far from there with a delightful cockroach problem in the kitchen) and is now inevitably some hideous coffee shop.
Ah memories …
Our love affair with the vintage fair isle look continues, and while knitting from the original instructions may seem straightforward, I sometimes get questions from concerned fair isle pattern buyers about whether the instructions are written or charted – this blogpost is intended to encourage those nervous souls to dive in and chart your own! It’s pretty common for vintage fair isle patterns to be written with no chart representation and being a lazy moo myself I always appreciate the appeal of charted patterns for ease and speed, but there’s also something rather satisfying about deciphering the written instructions, like revealing a secret code, so here are some tips for how to do it.
