Knitting design inspiration

I've been talking about designing my own knit garments for a while now. I got a design book for Christmas, but I haven't picked it up since an initial browse. I think I'm hesitant because I'm not sure how to start - I just haven't been feeling inspired.

Then last week I visited the Deep, Hull's spectacular aquarium. Or as they like to call it, submarium, perhaps because you go through so many levels of ocean life, it feels like you are in a submarine.

Image from Geograph ©Jonathan Fry 

The building is striking, and the collection of creatures even more so. I've visited quite a few aquariums (though not as many as I'd like to) and this was the most impressive collection I've seen anywhere. Also, I really appreciated the way they emphasised conservation - highlighting problems caused by pollution, global warming and overfishing.

I saw lots of things I've never seen in another aquarium, including flashlightfish (in a dark tank behind a curtain so you could see their bioluminescent eye patches), garden eels (poking their heads out of burrows in the sand), nautilus (which sleep during the day, so unfortunately I couldn't see all their crazy appendages), sawfish (which are critically endangered - the aquarium made sure to inform us they acquired them from another aquarium), and so many more.

Jellyfish, ray, tube worm, tiger shark - all images by The Deep

Walking through the wild display of shapes, colours and patterns, I started to have all kinds of knitting ideas. Maybe this is what I've been missing - knitting inspiration from concrete objects, or in this case, from fish!

For example, the simple jellyfish above could inspire a lace pattern on a sheer shawl. And I love the small bright blue spots on the brown ray - maybe a good colour combination for a hat?

But oddly enough, the most inspiring were the piranha. The aquarium didn't only focus on sea fish, and there was a whole section on the lowest level on the Amazon (including frogs, yay!). Piranha, despite their fierce reputation, are really quite beautiful. They have dark skin sprinkled liberally with bright silvery scales.

photo by cliff1066™ 

I started thinking of a high necked fitted bolero, knit in one of those sparkly yarns, something like Katia Galaxy.

Katia Galaxy

It would have a sawtooth pattern on the collar, sleeve cuffs and front closure bands, to suggest the piranha's teeth. Something like this:

Well, that bit was easy! But now I actually have to do all the work of finding the right yarn, swatching, planning it out, doing the math, and then knitting, frogging, and reknitting. When instead I could just go and buy Kirsten Johnstone's new summer cardigan pattern, Raiun.

© Tamara Erbacher

Ok, so it's not exactly the same, but I really love the elbow-length sleeve and the ribbing that angles down to the back. And it would be sooo much less work than designing my own!

But I'm slowly getting closer to designing my own pattern... and at least now I have some idea where to get ideas. And now I'm going to go start a Pinterest board of fish.

Summer Wools

Normally by this time of year I would have set aside knitting wool completely. I love knitting with (and wearing) summery fibres - in particular linen, hemp and silk. Not cotton though; I find cotton bulky and very poor at holding its shape.

But this spring has been so cold and miserable, I haven't been able to stop knitting wool. Instead I'm trying to transition into Summer slowly, by knitting summer-weight garments in wool blends.

The indispensable summer cardi

The most urgent project is a cardigan to replace an old favourite that finally fell apart last summer. I picked up the original cardigan at a Jigsaw sale several years ago. It was a silk/cashmere mix in a lovely taupe colour (I love Jigsaw's colours, less so their prices), and it went with absolutely everything in my summer wardrobe.

Walnuss @ankestrick

After much browsing on Ravelry I decided the Walnuss cardigan pattern would be a good match. It is a mostly basic button-up cardigan with just a little bit of gathering on the shoulders, sleeves and sides to keep it interesting.

Then on to finding the right yarn in just the right shade of taupe. I would have loved a cashmere/silk blend, but I knew it would be hard enough to find the right colour in wool, let alone in a luxury blend.

You can't trust internet images to tell you the true colour of a yarn - especially not a taupe - so I knew I would have to find something in the real world. I was hopeful that I would be able to get something in Helsinki, but everything I looked at was either the wrong weight, the wrong shade, or the wrong price (even I have to draw the line at Italian cashmere).

Luckily I had the answer already sitting at home, in my shade cards from Holst Garn. If you really like a particular kind of wool, and don't live near a well-stocked yarn shop, shade cards are invaluable. I have cards for both the supersoft wool (in 96 colours!) and the Samarkand wool/silk blend. After swatching with both types of yarn held double, I decided I preferred the drape and sheen of the wool/silk. Although Samarkand only comes in 20 colours, one of them, walnut, was a perfectly acceptable taupe shade.

The cardigan is knit from the top down, with a saddle-shoulder construction. I found the pattern a little confusing at first - all the sizes are laid out next to each other in columns, and there is a lot of 'at the same time' going on. But I figured it out with a bit of help from fellow ravelers, and I'm really pleased with the way it is knitting up. I passed the sleeve divide this weekend, and it's been smooth, fast sailing since then. I need to finish this soon so I can start wearing it with summer frocks... if summer ever arrives this year.

Caeles © Jane Heller

Next in my queue is Caeles, a sleeveless top with shaped collar and cap sleeves from Twist Collective spring/summer 2012 collection. I really like Twist Collective patterns because they are always so well written. Caeles is knit in an Aran weight yarn, so I should be able to finish it quickly.

For this top I bought K'acha, a wool/alpaca/silk blend from Mirasol, on sale at my local yarn shop. It's a hot fuschia, to go with a Kashmiri embroidered jacket I bought on a whim, forgetting that I had absolutely nothing in my wardrobe to wear with it. Well, now I will. It might seem silly to knit a sleeveless top in wool, but I think this style top, worn under a suit jacket, will transition well into fall and winter.

My camera didn't want to photograph the colour right -
I wonder if it was trying to tell me something...

And finally, in case it never properly warms up, I bought some green Rowan Felted Tweed DK, a merino/alpaca/rayon blend, to knit another cardigan. Several years ago I knit the XO Raglan Cardigan from Vogue Knitting winter 2009/10, in a particularly insipid soya/cotton blend. Love the pattern, HATE the yarn. I'd like to redo it in wool, but I'm also tempted by Vodka Lemonade from Baby Cocktails.

#24 XO Raglan Cardigan by TanisKnits & Vodka Lemonade ©Caro Sheridan

These two cardigans are quite similar, with a boxy shape, 3/4 length raglan sleeves, collar, and a bit of design interest at the bottom (the XO raglan cardigan has adorable tiny pockets, Vodka Lemonade has a lace detail which is replicated at the centre back). Vodka Lemonade doesn't have buttons, but I could easily add them. I'm having a really hard time deciding - which one do you think I should knit?

April showers bring May flowers

Growing flowers on the allotment

We only have a half plot at the Cripley Meadow allotments in Oxford. Or more precisely, 6.5 poles (an old standard of measurement used since the 16th century), which equals about 36 yards in length. We find this is more than enough space to grow vegetables for the two of us, so I have gradually been allocating more beds for flowers. There are many good reasons for growing flowers on an allotment - they attract pollinators, require less maintenance than vegetables, and best of all, they're pretty!

Bulbs

These might be my favourite flowers, because they appear the earliest in the spring when we really need them. Last year my cousin brought me tulip bulbs from Holland, and interspersed with some anemone de Caen they bring a riotous splash of colour to the front of my allotment.

Anemone de Caen - blooming continuously since February

This year I planted snowdrop bulbs and daffodils (acquired from my mother-in-law). They bloomed a bit sparsely, but I expect they will settle in and do better next year.

Spreading and self seeding

I'll put these flowers in a category of their own, because they are the easiest to grow. One of my first allotment flowers was Lily of the Valley. A colleague brought me some she had dug up from her garden. She warned me they were very hardy and likely to spread out of control, but shortly after I planted them in the spring they died back and I was sure the dry weather had killed them. But next spring they miraculously reappeared, and continue to multiply happily in their little flower bed under the apple tree. Lily of the Valley is the May Day flower in France - everyone buys bunches to give to their loved ones. Because of our cold spring, mine were a bit too late for the first of May - possibly because of the cold, wet spring we have been suffering - but last week I finally had enough sprigs for a cheery little arrangement.

Self seeders I've done well with are aquilegia (or columbine) and poppies. I sowed a mass of beautiful pink poppies last year, and now they are popping up all over the place. I bought one aquilegia plant at the Oxford botanic garden last year, and it has also self seeded surprisingly far.

Aquilegia image from Wikipedia - something has been snacking on
mine, so I'm not sure if any will survive to flowering this year.

Annuals

I get some of my best plants from farms in Suffolk. People set out plants and vegetables for sale by their driveway, and you stop by and collect what you want, paying by the honour system. The plants are cheaper and hardier than those you find in garden centres. I acquired a lovely bleeding heart plant (Chinese, scientific name dicentra) this way. It died back almost to nothing in the winter, but since February it has been growing at a phenomenal rate. They produce their drooping, heart-shaped pink (or white) flowers almost all spring and summer.

A new plant I'm trying this year is Hellebore - another acquisition from my mother-in-law. They are a very early flowering plant (hence their popular names Christmas rose and Lenten rose) and come in a range of lovely subtle shades. They are also posionous, so will hopefully resist the pest onslaught! They are also evergreens, so even when not blooming they will at least provide some life to a shady flowerbed.

Image from Wikipedia - I'll have to wait until next year to see my blooms

One final new plant for me this year are the Heucherellas, a hybrid of Heuchera and Tiarella. I fell in love with these at the 2010 Chelsea flower show.

Sweet tea cafe from Heucheraholics

They are my ideal plant, because they come in my favourite flamboyant shades of orange, purple and chartreuse. They are good ground cover plants (a bit like hostas, but hopefully less susceptible to slugs) and they put out delicate, foamy little flowers around this time of year. I bought two from a garden centre and two from a farm - we'll see which ones do better.

It is a pity I can't grow all these flowers closer to home - but I suppose my allotment will be good practice for when I get a house and garden of my own.

Knit-free Mondays

I recently started Springboard, a women's development course. The main impetus is to help me develop my career, but the first meeting has mostly just motivated me to get my free time organised. First things first.

The programme is all about identifying what kinds of activities satisfy you, determining your goals, and then setting (and following!) progressive steps to achieve these goals. I already know what activities I find satisying (knitting, reading, embroidery, gardening, blogging, traveling etc...), I just need to find time to do more of those activities. Since I'm not one to sit around doing nothing, I don't actually have any spare time, so I've come to the conclusion that the only way to carve out more time for other activities is to stop knitting so much. Hence, knit-free Mondays.

During a usual weekday I can spend up to 5 hours knitting, so if I stop knitting for even one day, that would give me a good chunk of time to accomplish other goals. Like my New Year's resolutions.

So, on my first knit-free Monday this week I dragged out the Bayeux Tapestry embroidery section that I started back in 2007. This is actually my second Bayeux Tapestry embroidery. The first section I completed in about 6 months - but that was before I started knitting. My husband convinced me to do another one for his future office, and I started with good intentions, but soon set it aside when I became a knitting addict (convincing myself I had plenty of time as my husband wasn't likely to get an office any time soon). But now it is four years later, and he is applying for full-time academic posts, so it really is high time I finish - it just wouldn't do for him to start a new job without a section of the Bayeux Tapestry for work!*

Here Duke William and his army came to Mont St Michel.
And here they crossed the river Cuesnon.
Here Earl Harold pulled them out of the sands.

For those of you not familiar with this amazing textile, the Bayeux Tapestry is a nearly 70-metre long embroidery depicting the events leading up to the Norman conquest of England, featuring William, duke of Normandy and Harold, earl of Wessex, later king of England, and culminating in the Battle of Hastings (1066 and all that). It consists of some fifty scenes with Latin captions, embroidered on linen with woollen yarns in six colours. It  was probably commissioned by Bishop Odo, William's half-brother, and made in England in the 1070s. It is now exhibited at the Musée de la Tapisserie de Bayeux in Bayeux, Normandy.

I purchased the embroidery kits at the museum, and they are also available online from Bayeux Broderie. The kits include the printed linen fabric, wool and a plan, though I referred to a book to make sure I got the colours right. The embroidery instructions were not included, but I'm familiar enough with embroidery techniques and managed to muddle my way through.

Later on, while we were living in Normandy, I met an expert in the technique, which the French call Viking embroidery. I discovered I had done my first embroidery in reverse order - you are supposed to do the outline, or stem stitch first (making sure you put the needle through the hole made by the previous stitch), then go back and fill in with couching, or laid work. The embroidery on my second section is much better (and more authentic) as a result.

closeup of embroidery techniques

After I'm done with the big panel I'll have to finish up the Bayeaux Tapestry alphabetaire which I also started (unfortunately not all the letters seem to match their associated image, but it is a sweet little thing nonetheless).

At least they got C is for Chameau

And for the days I am allowed to knit, I've started another of my New Year's resolutions - my first lace shawl design.

Lace swatch in Old Maiden Aunt grellow merino/silk 4ply

If I'm really successful with this time management thing, maybe I'll actually be able to accomplish all of this year's resolutions and add new ones for next year. Like designing a quilt with the quilting fabric I bought at the V&A Quilts: 1700 - 2010 exhibit.

Limited edition collection of 18 printed quilting fabrics

On the other hand, do I really need yet another hobby?

* My husband studies ducal Normandy and the ecclesiastical history of northern France in the High Middle Ages. So the Bayeux Tapestry, and Normandy references in general, are pretty de rigueur in our household.