If you wander over to the Stitchcraft aisle (second floor, next to the perfume and knitted underwear) you’ll see I’ve gone Stitchcraft mad recently. My personal collection was recently augmented by a bound folder of issues from 1935 which I wouldn’t part with for love nor money, and the gorgeous patterns got me intrigued - it’s a quality magazine which often gets overlooked in the scrabble to buy vintage Vogue Knitting magazines which, incidentally, are getting harder and harder to come by.
The way it steers its obvious target audience towards all things domestic doesn’t always sit comfortably with the post-feminist view we have of ourselves but that’s fairly representative of many women’s publications of its time. An article over at Fulltable is of the opinion that it ‘forbids energy, passion or the consequences of ideas‘, which I can kind of see in the context of women’s position in class and society at the time, but for me the accompanying pictures to the post defy that statement - inventive, creative garments, gorgeously crafted. Of course that was all about to change in wartime Britain as women took on more challenging roles … and yet still found time to create gorgeous clothes, nowt wrong with that.
It started out in October 1932, a Patons & Baldwins publication published in a large magazine format and, as the title would suggest, it’s not just a knitting magazine but gives directions for sewing and embroidery, tapestry etc, often including free transfers and the odd adventurous project for a wooden box or wood-framed bathmat. This makes it all the more interesting for me, you can get a real flavour of the times, right or wrong.
By 1942 times were tough and rationing meant that it halved in size, as most knitting patterns did, although it still managed to produce some fantastic fair-isle and gents’ one-offs. It didn’t return to its former size until 1953, by which time it had blossomed into a gorgeous curvy creation which strutted its stuff through the 1950s, but by the ’60s it was starting to feel its age and was happier with its feet up by the fire rather than go-go dancing down Carnaby Street. A prematurely aged Stitchcraft limped into the ’70s and by the ’80s P&B decided to do the humane thing and put it out of its misery.
Having said that I do have some early 1960s editions which still contain some cracking patterns, but knowing the purists you all are I’ve left them off the site.
Fancy a new collection? Get shopping!
n.b. The Fulltable link courtesy of Work4IdleHands who also has a fuller version of the Stitchcraft history
It all started with an email through the website from a lovely lady looking for a pattern for a keyhole scarf she’d seen on an episode of Miss Marple. I sympathised - I’ve been known to grab the camera and take snaps of the TV screen myself when something knitted takes my fancy, and what do you know, here was another TV-knitting-snapper.
I thought the pattern had to be out there so did a search on the web but with no luck - what would Elizabeth Zimmerman do in these circumstances (assuming she was a Miss Marple fan)? Grab her needles and some graph paper - and a pen to write down witty, bone-dry comments - and make up her own, so in the spirit of Zimmerman I did the same (minus the witty comments). I ordered some fine yarn (UK Alpaca Super Fine DK in ‘Fawn’), did some tension swatches and off I went. Okay, a scarf’s not the most difficult of things to create, but after a false start I was steaming ahead and feeling pretty chuffed, especially when the keyhole segment worked like a dream.
I typed up the instructions, hit the .pdf creation button … then inevitably found the pattern by chance (through Ravelry of course). My version doesn’t differ that much, the stitch is a little finer and the approach to the keyhole section differs where I went off-road and did a simple graft onto the original body of the knitting. Either way, it’s a sweet scarf … I’m planning another one in black with some white crocheted edging for a dressier version.
A pretty impressive ‘Knitting’ magazine this month (February’s edition) it’s gone all vintage, using the land girls as its inspiration and including an article by vintage knitting champion Susan Crawford (one of her lovely patterns also features).
Patterns include a great 40s-inspired fair isle tank top, a gents military-style cardigan (which Mr Skiff has got his eye on) and cool satchel-style bag. Must admit, not many knitting magazines inspire me to pick up my needles but this one’s making my fingers itch …
Let it snow let it snow let it snow … mainly because I’ve finished my extremely warm graphic Selbu fair isle mittens, and just in time as it happens because there are some brass monkeys out there looking rather cross.
They were nice and quick to knit up and despite the fact that the original pattern calls for generic Germantown wool and there was no tension guide, they weren’t too hard to adapt. Germantown wool is an American term for a specific yarn from Pennsylvania often used in Navajo weaving - something like DK from what I can fathom but correct me if I’m wrong. I went for something I thought would be soft and thick but fine enough to give a clear fair isle outline, so I decided on good old King Cole Merino DK. As for the tension, after a couple of false starts I ended up with 3mm dpns, and they fit perfectly. They look enormous due to the extra long cuff - keeps out the snow don’t you know.
I’d vaguely heard of the Selbu tradition but hadn’t really delved any further. Then I came across a 1920s or ’30s vintage American booklet ‘Ann Orr’s Spreads & Doilies’ which strangely had two patterns for what Ms Orr called ’sports’ mittens and gloves in the middle of all the patterns for lacy bits and bobs - by ’sports’ I presume she means skiing and not wrestling. I fell in love with the bold graphic designs and that was that.
As ever I couldn’t just knit the things I needed to get all academic and wax lyrical about the history behind them so I delved around a bit … pay attention you at the back, I’ll be asking questions afterwards …
Autumn has very definitely arrived, blustering and swearing, and winter is slouching round the corner having a crafty cig, so I’ve got some rather lovely winter patterns lined up for my long dark nights trying to keep out of their way. As well as a pair of 1940s fair isle mittens (more of which later), I’ve got my eye on some fantastic hats, including a knitted Patons ‘Svengali’ trilby.
Knitting hats and mittens is a great way of breaking up the larger, more complex and intricate pieces and I feel like I can return to a particular jumper I’m working on at the moment (14 rows to the inch, ouch) with renewed vigour. Okay there’s an element of truth in that last statement but really I’m fooling no-one - I’m procrastinating again. Problem is if I see a cute pattern I can’t resist I have to get going on it right away so, with one mitten down and one to go, I’m eyeing up wool for hats.
I really love the cheeky Lee Target pattern pictured above, such a great slice of late ’50s/early ’60s imagery. So if you need a new titfer and a bit of a knitting diversion while you stay out of Winter’s way, check out Skiff’s vintage hat patterns - anyone who manages to re-create the scene of the Lee Target one, please send pictures and you’ll get a free pattern!
Fair Isles - they’re all the rage! Following my last post, I’m harbouring fair isle desires … seems that if you’re sporting a natty little fair isle tank top around town you can put a big tick in the vintage fashion box. Okay, time to confess, my fair isle technique is not the best in the world (resembles a plate of spaghetti on the reverse side and the pattern starts to look more Picasso cubist than Renoir, sigh) so I do have to work on it, but I’ve got the incentive now, I’m hooked. With that in mind I’ve gathered my favourite fair isle patterns into their own collection. Go on, have a peek for some inspiration, you know you want to. Meanwhile, here’s a short history lesson kids …
Fair Isle is the most remote inhabited island in the UK, lying halfway between Shetland and the Orkney Islands. The knitting style gained a considerable popularity when the impeccably-dressed Duke of Windsor (later to become Edward VIII) wore Fair Isle tank tops in public in 1921.
Strictly speaking, traditional Fair Isle patterns have a limited palette of five or so colours, use only two colours per row, are worked in the round, and limit the length of a run of any particular colour (you can find more about the Fair Isle history on the Scottish Textiles Heritage site). Nowadays we tend to refer to “Fair Isle” as any colourwork knitting where stitches are knit alternately in various colors, with the unused colours stranded across the back of the work. So I’m using a bit of free licence and applying the more liberal sense of the term (although there are some traditional patterns in my collection too).
Yes, my geekery knows no bounds. I was watching Scotland On Screen the other night and became entranced by Allan Jones (author of ‘Inside The Wicker Man’), in particular his jumper - check out those gorgeous colours! Got a great ’40s gentleman’s tank top pattern which I think will lend itself nicely to this so I’m planning wildly.
Another one to join the ever-growing queue…
Ever since I saw a sketch of Elsa Schiaparelli’s beautiful trompe l’oeil bowknot sweater in a 1930s Stitchcraft, I’ve been trying to work out how to recreate it for myself but couldn’t get my head around the unusual looking texture … should’ve known the pattern was already out there. Not only that, you can download it for free from Schoolhouse Press. It was adapted by Lisa Stockebrand from the Philadelphia Museum of Art (prior to an exhibition in 2003) to accommodate a more modern fit, and suggests you use Jamieson & Smith 2-ply.
I like a challenge which is lucky as it doesn’t look easy - La Schiap used a special double layered stitch created by Armenian refugees whereby you hold the main color in your right hand and knit with it as in “American” style knitting, then carry the contrasting color in left hand as in “Continental” style knitting (and that’s only part of it). Inevitably and thankfully there’s a specific Ravelry ‘Schiaparelli Bowknot Group’ to help you through the tough spots.
Italian Schiaparelli was heavily influenced by the surrealist and Dadaist art, counting Cocteau, Dali and Giacometti amongst her collaborators. This sweater, along with her shoe hat, is one of her most influential pieces.
As ever, I want to get started on it immediately. There’s just the small matter of two other jumpers I’ve been extremely close to finishing for a while now, another one I’ve just started and a nasty case of knitter’s elbow to overcome dammit. Still, I’ve waited this long, what’s another couple of weeks/months/years?
There’s a nice short article in this month’s Yarn Forward magazine about Vintage Knitting by Susan Crawford (popular this month). She highlights the joy and pain of knitting from vintage patterns, but makes a great point which isn’t always obvious … not only are we drawn to the fantastic, flattering designs and images, but also to “the women who knitted from them, who despite everything created beautiful clothes for themselves and their families using very limited resources and even less cash.” Well said.
I think some of us tend to have a secret heroine (or two) in our heads against whom we constantly compare ourselves - sometimes we live up to the fantasy, sometimes we fall short. Despite our best attempts we’re human and just can’t emulate them in every single way … but if you’ve got a plucky, elegant 1940s heroine perched on a pedestal in your psyche, knitting brings you that bit closer to her. She embodies the ’stiff upper lip’ bravery which we associate with that era and yet still manages to look great during the most difficult of times. Knitters of the 1940s, we salute you!
The excellent ‘I Knit London’ are holding a weekender from 11th - 12th September with scheduled events including workshops, classes and presentations.
I spotted a couple of workshops to lure the vintage knitter: the first one features Susan Crawford (knitwear designer, knitting teacher and lecturer in fashion and textiles). Susan is co-author (and publisher) of the newly republished A Stitch in Time, apparently her presentation on Vintage Knitwear is not to be missed! You can catch Susan on Friday 11th September between 4pm - 6pm.
The second one is held by Joyce Meader, an historical hand-knitting expert. She has a wide and extensive collection of commercially printed patterns from the 1840s to the present day which are used to hand knit items for museums, re-enactors and for private commissions. Joyce will be hosting a free presentation and discussion of Knitted Comforts for Your Soldiers from Crimea to Today and showing some of her vast collection on Saturday 12th September between 12pm - 2pm.
You can find more information on these events at the I Knit London website.
I’ve added a rather splendid downloadable free pattern to Skiff’s Free Vintage Knitting Pattern section, this one from a 1956 edition of Stitchcraft. Elegant stripes around the welts make this ‘Afternoon Style Jumper’ stand out (clearly not deemed suitable for the morning), finished off with a natty striped tie effect. I’ve added this to my ‘to knit’ list - let me know if you complete it and we can compare notes!
I’ve converted my online vintage knitting tips page into a .pdf for those long evenings when you’ve got nothing else to read. What do you mean you’ve got a busy social life? Well if nothing else, it’s a handy guide to keep by your side when you’re starting out on a new vintage knitting project, or swearing pointlessly at a Bestway twin set pattern and shouting “but what do you mean by Patons Fingering 3-ply?”. It’s probably not definitive but certainly helps to set you on the path. Happy reading.

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