The Pink Marl Sweater Continues

Plus, a 5-star book recommendation…

When I wrote last week about the progress of my new sweater, I thought I was comfortable with my decision to keep going with the make 1 increases in the yoke. But reading your comments on the post made me think again. Would those increases bother me when I wore the sweater? Was I wasting time and yarn on a sweater I wouldn't love?

When I'm working on a commissioned design, I'm meticulous. No matter how small the blemish, I know it's going to show up in the photographs. But I have a huge tolerance for irregularities in a sweater made just for me. One of the delights of knitting for myself is having the freedom to feel my way through or "fudge" a bit to get the desired result without worrying about how I'll write instructions for what I've done.

I also know that no one looks at my work as critically as I do. No one will stop me at the grocery store, point at my increases, and say "What happened here?" (If you are someone who might do this, please, keep it to yourself.)

But many of your comments urged me to rip it back and make it perfect. I started to doubt my own inclinations. And that wasn't comfortable.

I wasn't willing to rip out all I'd done unless it was absolutely necessary (I had only 20 rounds left to go in the yoke). In part, I was afraid if I had to start over, this sweater would never be finished. The time I have available to knit a sweater just for me is limited by my need pay the bills. Perhaps the itch to make this pink-and-purple marled sweater had already been scratched. After all, I don't really need another pullover. Maybe the siren song of the next new project, and the one after that, would push this sweater so far down the list that I never go back to it.

My Solution

I decided to take a middle path—neither ripping it all out nor blithely continuing to knit while ignoring my doubts. I slipped all the stitches onto a long piece of the rubbery tube I use for stitch holders. Then I washed it and laid it flat to dry, just like I'd wash the finished sweater.

I find that washing a piece of knitting often works wonders to smooth irregularities. It helps the stitches settle into their new role as a piece of knitted fabric. Here's a close-up of one of my increase lines after that little trip to the sweater spa:

Did the increases smooth out? Yes, they did. Do they interrupt the rhythm of the fabric. Yes, they do. Does it bug me? No, it does not. The increases lines will run down the yoke in eight evenly spaced spokes. I do not mind having the structure of the sweater exposed. It's like having exposed ceiling beams in a house, but with less dust.

You may have made a different choice, and that's perfectly OK. When it's your sweater, you get to make all the decisions.

I slid those stitches back onto my circular needle and kept knitting. I've now divided the piece, so the sleeves on are on stitch holders and I'm working my way down the body. I know I'm going to love wearing this sweater.

Yarn for the next design commission arrived earlier this week, so this lovely pink and lavender concoction is snoozing off to the side. Expect to see it again sometime in March.

---

A Blind Spot Revealed

This whole episode did expose a gap in my knitting knowledge. After nearly 50 years of wielding yarn and needles, how do I not have an informed preference for increases in reverse stockinette stitch!?

Clearly some swatching and researching is needed. I pitched an article on this topic to my favorite knitting magazine and they bought it (yay!). Rest assured I'll let you know when it is published.

---

I picked up the audiobook of Our Evenings by Alan Hollinghurst because it's the January selection of the New York Times Book Club. I am so glad I did.

Dave Win is the son of a British dressmaker and a Burmese man he has never met. We meet Dave in the 1960's when he is thirteen, a scholarship student at a top boarding school. This novel takes us through 60 years of Dave's life as he goes to Oxford, becomes a working actor, and falls in (and out) of love.

Told in the first person, Our Evenings is a quiet, loving character study. This is not a book with a suspenseful plot. Nothing much happens, yet everything happens and is imbued with all the drama we each give to the events of our ordinary lives. Hollinghurst lets us sit with Dave and see what he sees, feel what he feels.

If same-sex relationships make you uncomfortable, this is not the book for you. While there are no explicit sex scenes, Dave is gay, and part of his story is coming to terms with his sexuality during a time of changing social attitudes.

Hollinghurst writes with a rare command of language and an exquisite sense of place. The narrative leaps entire decades without any exposition, yet I never felt like I'd missed something. The author lets us fill in the gaps by picking up clues in Dave's inner monologue and his conversations with the people around him. I have not read Hollinghurst before, but you can bet I've added his Booker Prize winning The Line of Beauty to my queue.

---

Book titles are linked to bookshop.org, a non-profit that supports independent bookstores. These are affiliate links. If you make a purchase using these links, I may earn a small commission at no additional cost to you.

---

As always, thank you for spending this time with me. I appreciate your comments and feedback, and I'm always happy to get your book recommendations.

There will not be a new newsletter next week. I'll be traveling west to see my son in California and my mother in Arizona. Next week, I'll re-publish a popular newsletter from last year. I'll be back in your inbox with fresh thoughts about yarn and books on February 6^th.