Bodyguarding the plants - watch out snails

Well here’s one thing I managed to finish on holiday - Skiff Jnr is dinosaur crazy (no really, he’s obsessed like I’ve never seen obsession before), and I was given instructions of what kind of dinosaur he wanted and what colours. Really he wanted a Spinosaurus but I compromised when I found this great amigurami crochet pattern and ended up with a T-Rex/Stegosaurus hybrid.

Not strictly vintage but could be in the sense that dinosaurs are ancient. Pretty fearsome eh?

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.

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 …

Pretty vacant

Okay so it’s finally Spring, but the British weather being what it is I always like to be prepared. Anyway, when a vintage love affair begins it doesn’t heed the seasons and this one with my swagger scarf happened accidentally like all the best romances.

So there I was writing a blog post about Stitchcraft magazine when I came across a brief article written by a knitting detractor who used vintage pattern images to illustrate their disapproval, including this 1930s Patons & Baldwins advert for a knitted scarf and I fell in love - so bold, so brave, so ’30s. I ignored the scornful comments and dove in.

The original swagger scarf

I had a search around and posted a few requests on Ravelry but couldn’t find the original anywhere so I’ve knocked up a quick pattern for anyone else who shares my crazy love. It’s really straightforward, all in garter stitch - don’t be put off by the mitred points.

I used Jamieson & Smith jumper-weight yarn as their shades matched the original exactly which was handy. In hindsight I think I’d have made it a little wider - it’s 71sts wide but I think 85 sts would have given it that extra bit of fullness you see in the original. Apart from that it came out pretty well.

Just one mystery remains - any of you fashion history bods out there tell me why it’s called the swagger scarf? I gather that the swagger coat was a popular style from the early 1900s onwards and the name suggests a freedom of movement, but how does that apply to the scarf? Answers on a faded vintage postcard to Skiff … actually an email will do.

Download Skiff’s 1930’s Swagger Scarf pattern (pdf)

Claudia's Cardigan

A lovely lady got in touch recently to let me know she’d successfully knit up one of the free patterns offered by Skiff - and what a great result!

Sounds like it all went smoothly: using Patons Merino she found she didn’t find the need to adapt the pattern in any way. Says Claudia “I think the tension squares are key when doing vintage patterns, and this wool and needle combo seemed to work.” Here here.

With vintage buttons from her gran’s sewing box to finish off, the finished article looks stunning, and I love that shade of red (my fave colour).

Fancy giving it a go yourself? You can find the pattern over on the Free Vintage Knitting Patterns page - please send in more pictures of any items you finish using a Skiff pattern (bought or free), I love seeing the fledglings hatch …

Stitchcraft July 1946

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

Bundle!

It’s all kicking off on the Ravelry boards … words flying, comments censored, needles aimed … the cause? A post submitted by someone working with Vodafone in Ireland on a ‘Cheer Up Ireland’ campaign which involves a bit of urban knitting (although there’s no mention of the project on their website.)

The idea is not a new one but started out with the best of intentions by Eilish Tuite, a third year sculpture student in Limerick school of Art and Design. She is working on a project called Urban Knit, the aim of which is to cover a disused building in Limerick City. The cover will eventually be chopped up into smaller blankets and donated to St.Vincent’s Charity (hopefully washed and repaired after much exposure to the elements?), although as DeadlyKnitshade points out in her post, the charity don’t seem to be asking for knitted blankets, more “help financially and/or by giving of your time”.

Eilish has been calling for contributions of wool since the beginning of February, and I’m not sure whether Vodafone approached her after the project had been initiated or if it was the other way round.

Then a post popped up on Ravelry yesterday encouraging people to submit knitted squares. The contributor who started off the thread (under the username of Slkav) had joined Ravelry the same day - no profile, no knitting projects, no other contributions save this post. Their email address suggests they work for a company called Simply Zesty - an online pr and social media agency who frankly should know better.

After a few initial encouraging messages, the mood has changed as knitters have started to voice their resentment at the attempt to lure them into a corporate campaign.

Boff, where do we start with this? Advertising campaigns surrounding both the arts and charities are nothing new, nor is getting the unwitting public involved in contributing content, but I think the Vodafone case is a prime example of lazy PR bods delving into what they see as the subculture of the moment and underestimating the community. Subtlety and integrity are sadly lacking in this fumbled attempt to infiltrate the tight-knit (pardon the pun) group and this is, of course, a ridiculous crime in an era of online social networking, particularly from a company claiming to be experts in that field.

The group the thread is posted in is a fairly anonymous one called ‘Needlework on the Net‘ which seems to have been picked for its popularity and the frequency of its member contributions. Possibly where Slkav went wrong was in underestimating the passion the Ravelry members feel for their craft - that and the ability to sniff out a fake a mile off.

Knitters do not like being patronised - we’ve got years of dodgy imagery to live down and most of us are proud of, and committed to, our craft, so for a corporate representative to dip in with no background or enthusiasm in the field stinks of fraud.

A Copley's pattern for 1940s soldiers' comforts

We love what we do and we especially love it if there’s an excellent reason for doing it - knitting for causes has been consistently popular since ladies started knitting soldiers’ comforts during the Crimean War (the cardigan is named after the 7th Earl of Cardigan, the first British officer to cross the Russian lines in the famous Charge of the Light Brigade) and, of course, continued to do so during the First and Second World Wars.  There are plenty of charities out there calling for knitted contributions (this Get Knitting article is a good place to start if you’re interested), we can personally choose which charity we’d like to help out, so it feels cheap when corporates come over all bandwagonesque and hitch a ride.

Vodafone, and possibly Elish herself, are probably a little bewildered by this tremendous backfire - after all, if a big brand name approached me with an offer to sponsor a project with maximum publicity, I’d definitely flirt with it for a while, maybe even go to second base. Financial and business patronisation of the arts is another age-old concept, they have always had a necessary and yet uneasy relationship. It’s a vulnerable alliance, easily soured and needing to be handled with care - I watched many bands who jumped at the chance to sign to a huge label, grateful for the money and opportunity, only to become embittered when they saw their artistic control wither away.

Innocent's 'Big Knit'

Knitting and craft generally is hot news at the moment and there are plenty of media types currently wanting a piece of it (yes you Harry Hill!). It’s inevitable and not always a car-crash - Innocent Drinks have successfully run ‘The Big Knit‘ for a few years now, a campaign set up alongside Sainsbury’s, which encourages people to send in small knitted hats for the bottles. For every behatted smoothie sold, 35p is given to Age Concern and Help The Aged. They give full details of where the money goes and it’s clear they’re working alongside the charity. Sure it’s a marketing gimmick, but it’s better thought-through and more sympathetic to the cause than Vodafone’s limp effort, and they came up with it before knitting hit the big-time.

Hopefully this case will be a warning to other marketeers … use your heads, show commitment and less of the patronisation you monkies!

P.S. For more info on what happens to knitted items and textiles donated to charity, read Deadly Knitshade’s informative Ravelry post, or go straight to the informative article she links to …

Miss Marple Vintage Scarf - Skiff stylee

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, it’s a bit fuller (and bigger overall from what I can see) 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.

Skiff’s Miss Marple Vintage Scarf instructions

Original vintage scarf instructions

Knitting Mag February

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 …

One of the many patches of lime and fragment we'll be calling home

In a last desperate attempt to squeeze some relaxation out of the year, Skiff is hiking off round the M25 to a medieval shack in a remote part of Suffolk. Apparently Purton Green is one of ‘the many lost villages of Suffolk, where generations spent their lives, but which are now just patches of lime and fragments in the plough’. Here’s hoping the place we’re staying is a bit more than that, it’s a bit parky at the moment.

Anyways, I’m away from Wednesday 30th December - Monday 4th January, so any orders placed during that time will be sent out on Tuesday 5th January - apologies for any inconvenience.

The weather’s not looking too good, but as long as we can get there with the car full of choice snacks and many bottles of finest wines known to humanity (courtesy of Mr Skiff), we’re not too bothered about being holed up for the duration, or indeed the journey home.

Meantime, I wish you all a fantastic New Year and all good things for 2010!