The thing about hats
I’ve been bitten by the hat making bug. For years I’ve made shawls/cardigans/socks/sweaters - anything but hats, really. And now suddenly I can’t stop. I’ve even set about designing one. But it’s not ready, because the thing about hats…
I’ve been bitten by the hat making bug. For years I’ve made shawls/cardigans/socks/sweaters - anything but hats, really. And now suddenly I can’t stop. I’ve made nine since September. It turns out hats are quick, fun, and really good for using up odd skeins. Huh.
The impending festive season definitely has something to do with it. “Quick! Gift! Knit!”, I see everywhere, from chunky cables to classic rib to round-and-round-and-round sort of tubes. I get it, I do. Five of those nine hats were not for me or my own kids, not made out of necessity but for the heck of it. And seeing how happy they are, to receive something that is warm, pretty and (hopefully) a good fit has been really fun.
September Hat by Caroline Dick
I’ve even set about designing one. I thought, I only have one hat pattern in my portfolio so far, I was given two skeins of perfect, midnight blue tweed at Edinburgh yarn festival, it’d be good for a bit of end-of-year publicity, etc.
The thing about hats, however, is that they’re like everything else I design. Best not rushed. When I rush, I make mistakes or end up with compromises I later regret.
The thing about hats, whether made for yourself or someone else, is that they’re like sandwiches. They always make the receiver happy, this fact you’ve taken the time to butter the bread all the way to the edges and melted the cheese to just the right level of bubbliness and maybe even gone the whole hog with all the toppings. I ate a rye bread open sandwich piled high with nut butter, apple slices, pumpkin seeds, dates and honey at a cafe in Edinburgh. The equivalent of a perfectly slouchy, nubbly grey hat with a little cable, perhaps?
When I stuck a sample of my new design on my best friend’s head, saw how much she liked it and how beautifully it accentuated her blue eyes… I had to let her keep it. I shared that sandwich with her, too.
So I haven’t released the pattern yet. I’ve made an ochre sample and started another blue one, I’m working out multiple sizes, putting options for both a snug beany and a slouchy hat in… I won’t be able to say, “cast on this last minute Christmas gift!”, but I don’t mind. I like the idea of someone getting to this pattern in the quiet of January, or whenever suits them, of them taking their time over the tiny ridges and delighting in the little puffs that go up and up.
An act of spiritual belly-filling, in the making, the wearing and - for me as a designer - the not-stressing about “keeping up”.
See you in January?
P.S. If you do want to crochet a new hat this side of Christmas, I made some tweaks to the instructions for the Lomma Hat (it’s free"!) so they are easier to understand.
P.P. S. I will also be running a promotion cum fundraiser from 21 to 31 December, so follow my social media outlets if you want to keep an eye on that.
Colour crushing in Devon
Colour, especially of the eyeball-pleasing saturated kind, is a rare thing in Sweden at this time of year. Imagine my delight, then, when our Christmas in Devon this year was surprisingly ...
Colour, especially of the eyeball-pleasing saturated kind, is a rare thing in Sweden at this time of year. As I've mentioned before, the diffuse light and stalking shadows do create their own particular beauty, but the predominant hue is brown. The camera mostly hibernates, just like its owner.
Imagine my delight, then, when our Christmas in Devon this year was surprisingly colourful. Look away from the glitter and baubles and oh! The green was still lush, a few flowers already in bloom, SO many pretty houses and boats.
I'm not sure why I was surprised - although we also live by the coast in the very southern tip of Sweden, a difference in latitude of more than 10 degrees was always likely to leave a bit of a mark on the landscape. And until the post-New Year freeze kicked in, it had probably been a remarkably mild winter, too. Whatever the reason, there was plenty on offer to please the lens.
Incidentally, one colour I can't get enough of at the moment is blush pink. I think it's just perfect for this time of year; soft enough for winter's mutedness but not so subtle you'd overlook it, pretty and uplifting without yet being too optimistically spring-like (we still have a loooong wait until spring...)
It started with a detail here and there, until I went full-on pink socks.
I finished them just before we saw out the year, and I can't stop twiddling my toes and staring at them. The pattern is Aussie Sunshine by Clare Devine, and I used one skein of Coop Knits Socks Yeah yarn in Ammolite as well as a tiny bit of Danburite.
But that is by the by. Otherwise our Christmas was quiet and predictable and safe. We ate too much, played games, knitted. Well, I knitted. When the Bean started tripping on the excess attention, sugar and presents, we hauled him outside to look at the boats with (what I think is) his coolest gift: a pair of pocket binoculars. Proper ones, too, not toy ones.
I also made him his own Lomma Hat, a two-tone version that he surprisingly wanted without a "pompy" on top and didn't take off once all Christmas day. If that red looks a bit lurid, that's because it is, but he marched into our local yarn store and picked it out his very self, so I wasn't going to argue. Foolishly, I argued over how many consecutive slices of M&S penguin-shaped sponge cake were acceptable instead.
I love Brown. Really, I do.
Just a week to go until Midwinter, and the light starts to creep back again. It will help. It's hard not to get bogged down in darkness and murk at this time of year, isn't it? We live in the very south of Sweden, the agricultural rather than the forest and ...
Just a week to go until Midwinter, and the light starts to creep back again. It will help.
It's hard not to get bogged down in darkness and murk at this time of year, isn't it? We live in the very south of Sweden, the agricultural rather than the forest and lake-covered part. It is utterly glorious in the summer, but our winters are damp, grey, and muddy. Occasionally we get snow or a really crisp, blue-sky-and-winter-sun sort of day, but not that often. Definitely not often enough.
Still, when there's an almost-4.year-old who desperately needs some exercise, we do as the Swedes would: don the waterproofs and woollies, head out there.
I took my camera too, fully expecting to leave it in the bag for the duration of our walk. There would be no colours to light up my heart and lens.
But it turns out there's beauty in brown too, if you look hard enough. A little haunting, quite skeletal, very damp. But beautiful. All right on our doorstep, and we even found some treasure to take home. Where my colourful knitting was waiting, as always.
Sea Water, Sun and Yarn
Now the autumn/winter proposals have been handed in, it's time for a little late Spring sneaky peeking. Add in a mini yarn review, "sea water" and "sun", and it feels like we're heading for a great summer.
Yesterday I handed in a stack of autumn/winter design proposals. Now I just have one or two more things to try out for the Emmy + LIEN label, and then I think I can draw a line under all things dark and wintry. Only until the sample making starts, of course, but the initial head-scratching part is done. The result: a stack of swatches. About a month's worth of work. Doesn't look like much does it?!
One late summer design has snuck in there, and I wanted to pull it out for a little sneaky peek. And a yarny drool.
Meet my new crush: Pickles. They're based in Oslo and, oh my, don't they ever produce deliciousness. I ordered two types (for now!), Summer Wool and Thin Organic Cotton.
Summer Wool consists of 70% organic cotton and 30% fair trade Peruvian merino. Plant-dyed, entirely scrumptious, and swiftly set aside for a knitted cardigan for Yours Truly (more on that another day).
Thin Organic Cotton isn't actually that thin - it works up almost like a worsted weight rather than a DK - but it is very lovely. It feels much softer than 100% cottons usually do, and so it's perfect for a summer to mid-season vest design I've had in mind. Though I normally get lead times spectacularly wrong, this *should* be coming out fairly soon. Swatch done, colours picked, mood board fun had. First test subject: the Bean (though I think it'll be a child to adult pattern - I want me some of this too!).
I'm waiting for the rest of the yarn I need to make up the sample to arrive. I settled on this muted "sea water" blue, and added a yellow called "sun". Sounds like a perfect summer of making to me.
Just so you know: I have not been compensated in any way for writing this post.
A Yarnie's Take on Pantone Colour of the Year 2016
If you've been keeping track of my designs you'll know I'm not really a pastels sort of girl. After some yarn and cup faffery, however, I figured out how to make Pantone's pick for 2016 work for me.
In a first, Pantone has picked not one but two colours as Pantone Colour of the Year for 2016: Rose Quartz and Serenity.
If you've been keeping track of my designs you'll know I'm not really a pastels sort of girl. I don't dislike them - I just think their subtlety is a bit lost on me! As with all the colours Pantone picks, however, obviousness is not part of the game. What matters is your own interpretation and it's fascinating to see what designers, stylists and artists across the world come up with (you can keep track of all that on Pantone's dedicated Pinterest board).
To figure out how to make Rose Quartz and Serenity work for me, I decided to just have a play. A hint of yellow, my favourite notebooks...
The yarns pictured are by Vinnis Colours (blue) and MoYa (Pink), both kindly sent to me by Scaapi, and Sirdar (yellow). Although I don't think of these colours as "me", I do really like the softness of the picture and I think the palette would be beautiful for a crochet blanket or a delicate shawl.
Still, more colour faffery was needed (I know, my job is really hard). As I rearranged my cups and yarns it suddenly clicked:
pastels + neutrals + bolder colours = Ombre! Ole!
I really, really like this palette. I'm still thinking about what to make with it - any suggestions? - but whatever it is, it'll be fun. The pink yarn is by MoYa, as above, and the coral yarn is by Nurturing Fibres. The jute rope is one of many rolls I picked up at a gardening store!
How are you approaching Rose Quartz and Serenity?