We’ve been through it, this sweater and I. It was an experiment from the beginning, as I combined two patterns which called for different weights of yarn and needle sizes. I made errors. The sweater had a lot to teach me about imperfection, persistence, and failure.
I don’t promise that I’ve *learned* the lessons that were offered, but I can see that they exist.
Last time I posted, I’d been putting off the billionty ends from all that lovely colourwork. I wanted to try braiding them. I *did* try doing it the way you’re supposed to – that link is a Knit Picks vid on YouTube showing the formation of one big braid from top to bottom, capturing all the ends. I tried a few times and it made me crazy. There are so many ends and the braid was bulky to the point of being unmanageable. I cannot overstate how little I was feeling this technique in this moment.
So I went absolutely off piste and did my own thing, making a series of small braids from three or six of the ends at a time. I gave up on using ends to tighten the seam and just picked up ends from the same side, plaited then then tied a knot in the end of the plait. For those braids that would hang below the hem, I simply tied them to others that were higher up.
It’s unconventional to say the least. And I’d love to say how free I felt, throwing caution to the wind and just getting it finished, however that looked. I didn’t feel the euphoria of releasing a lifelong pursuit of perfection (which would have been a lot to ask of one jumper, to be honest) but I did feel satisfied that I was doing something to get the jumper closer to wearable.
The longer the saga went on, the more I found myself thinking about visible mending and kintsugi in particular. Mending broken things with gold, to make them beautiful… Could I solve the problems I was having by drawing attention to them instead of trying to hide them? I was ordering myself some treat yarn (first order of the year!), and I added a 10g ball of gold lamé Ricorumi (Wool Warehouse link) to my basket. Just in case I wanted to pursue this half-idea I had.
I feel moved to note that it was 79 pence. There is very little you can buy now for that kind of money.
By the time it arrived, two days later, I was getting excited about the idea. I used the gold to duplicate stitch over the problem area in the front of the sweater, and to mattress stitch the side and sleeve seams – if the seams stretch out after further wear, you’ll see the glitter of the gold coming through.
Overall, it didn’t look quite as striking as I’d hoped so, naturally, I added more gold. I doubled up the yarn (which is much thicker than thread, but not DK thickness) and made another couple of embellishments… then some more… until the front was fairly comprehensively ‘repaired’.
Is this now my absolute favourite jumper?
It is not.
Am I proud of myself for persevering?
Yes I am.
Do I think I came up with some really creative ideas while I was making it?
Yes I do.
Will the gold yarn survive the next wash?!
I have no idea. There are quite a lot of gold flakes around the sofa where I’ve been working on it so I fear it won’t take kindly to being washed. Maybe if it’s inside out it’ll be OK?
I combined the neckline of Brick (Ravelry link) by Clare Lee (size five) with the body of the Sea Glass Sweater (Ravelry link) by Wool & Pine (Designer’s site) (size four). I used 4.5mm needles for the body and a mix of DK and worsted yarns. I used 4mm needles for the neck, cuffs and hem and held my DK yarn double on those areas for a more robust result.
I’ve added this post to the Unraveled Wednesday linkup, with thanks to Kat for hosting.
The Crafty Yarnster 