

Things have changed, probably because I spend so much of my life (see "Best Job in the World," above) surrounded by attractive yarns in astounding colors. I therefore once rejected a yarn shop owner's suggestion of moss green as an accent in beige and brown mittens as "over the top." Like many (I'd like to say most) North American men, I was raised to wrap myself in a rainbow that runs from beige to black, with intermediate stops at gray and navy. I am not ashamed to admit to you that there was a time - not long ago - when this display of largesse would have sent me straight under the bed whimpering, like a puppy in a thunderstorm.
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Then she sent me five million colors, plus a note that said, "I want you to have options." Please send me five colors that discerning Knitty readers will find fresh and unexpected. Here are the original colors, and here are the proportions they were used in. Please may I have some yarn?įranklin: I'm doing a plaid. When you're asking for help you might as well aim for the top.įranklin: Hey, I want to do a knitted plaid. So I wrote to Plucky Knitter, whose range of colors is second to none. I felt that you, the discerning Knitty reader, would best enjoy a plaid in a palette that is fresh and unexpected.Īlso, I planned to wear this one if it worked out, and the original colors make me look blotchy. But I felt that you, the discerning Knitty reader, deserve more than a straightforward retread. The vintage colors of the "Princess Mary" were classic: hunter green, scarlet, canary, black, white. I got curious, which is where these adventures always begin. How much simpler could you get than garter stitch? It was based on garter stitch, for heaven's sake. By which I mean it looked like the genuine article, and moreover the technique was shockingly straightforward. Most takes on the knitted plaid involve more crazy (hey, let's do intarsia and stranded colorwork at the same time!) than I'm willing to accommodate in return for results that crudely ape the fabric they're trying to emulate.īut this knitted plaid - even in a smudgy, grimy black-and-white photograph - looked pretty good. I'm not a weaver, so I have considered it Off Limits as I usually dislike knitting that pretends to be something else. Here's the thing about plaid: I love it, but it's supposed to be woven. Most of the book is ho-hum, but about halfway through is a pattern for the "Princess Mary" plaid scarf. I stumbled across the vintage pattern I wanted to play with for this issue of Knitty in a book I picked up at our neighborhood charity shop for a quarter. I didn't ask for five million colors, I asked for five. Some days the mail lady staggers up to my door with a box and I open the box and inside the box are, like, three hundred pounds of Plucky Knitter yarn in, like, five million colors.

Some days I have the best job in the world. To be a historian to come along - just a knitter with The excitement of the journey by removing as Though and so in this column I hope to share The process of decoding, testing and correcting Row by row and knowing that other knitters, long gone, followed There's a thrill, I find, in watching a project emerge The often obtuse and obfuscatory language of antique patterns. I'veĮspecially enjoyed the mind-twisting process of working with I've been fascinated by the history of knitting. Readers at the Coffeeshop, now on Ravelry!įor almost as long as I've been a knitter, with knitting or patterns? Visit the Coffeeshop! with knitty or the Coffeeshop? ask Sarah!
