Month: December 2016

Introducing Autumn in the City, the Vancouver Collection

Posted on by Laurel Grochowski
A collection of grey knit hats with colourful pompoms that are arranged in a circle in the snow

 

I moved back to Vancouver in October after spending the summer doing resort work in the mountains. I grew up in this city, and I love it for numerous reasons, but Autumn can be a hard season for me here. After a few months away I grew used to the greenery of trees all around me and the blue of the sky reflected in the crystal clear lakes; moving away from all that during two of the most wet and most grey months on record took some getting used to. Vancouverites love to complain, and we especially love to complain about the weather, but I know that when I get caught in that downward spiral it just makes me miserable. Instead I tried to make a conscious effort this year to pay attention to the things that brightened the grey days. One thing I noticed was that the monotone nature of the city during these rainy months made the changing leaves on the trees and the sunshine slipping through the clouds stand out in contrast.

It was around October that I started thinking seriously about the idea behind Steady Hands Co as well. I think this collection, which I’m calling Autumn in the City, is representative of this attitude. 

 

 

Don’t get me wrong, the fall and winter months can be depressing, but I actually really like the colour grey. A large majority of my wardrobe is monochromatic and with the exception of socks I gravitate to all shades of grey when I pick out yarn for my own personal projects. I wanted this collection to be a love letter to all aspects of Autumn in Vancouver so I designed three different toques that were inspired by the city’s natural surroundings and I knit them up in three different shades of grey. They’re topped off with three contrasting choices of pom-poms as well, in order to bring a pop of colour to brighten even the darkest of days.

Three grey knit hats with an argyle cable pattern and colourful pom-poms lying in the snow

The first design is called Bute, and this hat features an interwoven trellis pattern that is reminiscent of the coastal mountain range that looms over Vancouver’s skyline. Winter’s first sighting of snow-capped peaks through a break in the clouds is one of my favourite days of the year; the proximity to the mountains is such an important and iconic part of Vancouver to me, so I knew I needed something to represent them when I was putting together this collection. I love the way Bute turned out, the texture is simple and classic while the modified ribbing adds a bit of playfulness. It’s sized to hug the average woman’s head with just a touch of slouch.

Three grey knit hats with ribbing that resembles a chevron pattern and colourful pom-poms are lying in the snow.

The second design is called Thurlow, and this hat’s ribbed chevron motif is inspired by the trees that line Vancouver’s streets and fill its surrounding forests. Our coastal rain forests are full of stories and history and I cannot imagine living somewhere that wasn’t surrounded by these green expanses. Being able to get lost between the trees even within the city limits is something that’s unique and wonderful. The simple repeating pattern is the slouchiest of the three designs and the result is a toque that fits the average woman’s head with a bit of room to scrunch down over your ears.

Three grey knit hats with alternating cable patterns and colourful pom-poms are lying in the snow.

The third and final design is called Davie; its alternating cables are representative of the Vancouver shoreline and the ebbs and flows that make up our day to day lives. Like many other Vancouverites, living in a coastal city is a defining feature of many of my days. I often take the SeaBus as a form of public transit, I grew up going for jogs along the banks of the Fraser River, and I have a tattoo of one of the bridges that leads into the heart of downtown. I chose two different cables for this toque to span from larger expanses like the Howe Sound and the Straight of Georgia to the small lakes and rivers that wind throughout the city. It’s designed to fit the average woman’s head with just a touch of slouch.

The patterns for these toques are available for free so that you can knit your own. You can choose a contrasting pom-pom or go without if you’re a purist. Here are some closer shots to show you how each style looks with each colour:

Three light grey hats with varying knit textures and colourful pom-poms are lying in the snow.

In “Pebble” which is a light grey colour, pictured from left to right: 

  • The Bute Hat with a Lilac pom-pom
  • The Davie Hat with a Merlot pom-pom
  • The Thurlow Hat with a Goldenrod pom-pom

Three charcoal grey hats with varying knit textures and colourful pom-poms are lying in the snow.

In “Charcoal” which is a medium grey colour, pictured from left to right:

  • The Davie Hat with a Lilac pom-pom
  • The Bute Hat with a Goldenrod pom-pom
  • The Thurlow Hat with a Merlot pom-pom

Three dark grey hats with varying knit textures and colourful pom-poms are lying in the snow.

In “Asphalt” which is a dark grey colour, pictured from left to right: 

  • The Davie Hat with a Goldenrod pom-pom
  • The Bute Hat with a Merlot pom-pom
  • The Thurlow Hat with a Lilac pom-pom

FIND PATTERNS NOW

This collection is a love letter to the city in which I grew up and currently live, so I think that it’s important to acknowledge that Vancouver sits on the unceded territory of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tseil-Waututh peoples.

What I Learned – Yoko Hatta’s Natsumi Pullover

Posted on by Laurel Grochowski
A red knit pullover with a cable that runs horizontally across the chest is laid flat against a floral bedspread and a fuzzy blanket.

 

It’s not something that I can claim a 100% success rate for, but every time I take on a new knitting project I try to learn something new. This started when I was first beginning to knit and I was overwhelmed by the endless amount of techniques and stitch combinations that make up the world of knitwear. I wanted to be able to make socks and pretty sweaters and lacy shawls and colourful mittens and all I knew how to do was knit, and purl (through the help of a thousand YouTube videos.) I didn’t know where to start but I knew I didn’t want to give up, so I decided that for my second project I would graduate from a stockinette stitch scarf and learn how to knit in the round. I made a hat! It was the most exciting thing in the world! And it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. So then I decided I would learn to cable. And then I picked a pattern with some lace work. And after that I decided I wanted to make mittens. So I did. By taking little baby steps and focusing on one thing at a time it didn’t seem so overwhelming and all of a sudden I had a whole bunch of new skills under my belt. Looking at all of the patterns on Ravelry no longer intimidated me.

A work in progress in red fingering weight yarn is being held in the knitter's hand on top of a floral bedspread and a fuzzy blanket.

It’s a concept I’ve stuck with, though on a more abstract level now that I’m comfortable with most of knitting’s basic skills and techniques. I try to be conscious about the way I’m putting things together and to follow my instincts when I think things need to be modified to fit my stupidly long torso or big feet. I’ve made an effort to knit quite a few sweaters this year and I’ve tried to choose ones with unique constructions (like the short rows in Judy Brien’s Engineered Seams or the boat neck and drop shoulders in Melanie Berg’s Threshold) so that I wasn’t just making the same top-down, seamless yoke pattern with different stitch combinations over and over again. The sweater I chose for November is a Brooklyn Tweed pattern written by Yoko Hatta: the Natsumi Pullover. 

It’s a fingering weight sweater, worked left-to-right from a provisional cast-on and I love the clean simple lines and the cable detail running across the chest and back. I picked out some Palette in Garnet Heather from Knit Picks’ last sale specifically for this pattern and I loved working with it. The stitch definition is great, it’s not scratchy at all, and I absolutely love the colour. The verdict is still out on how well it will hold up to wear in terms of fuzziness and pilling, but as of right now I’d definitely work with it again (especially at that price point!) Working on the sweater itself though has been an exercise in blind faith because I was literally knitting sideways. The provisional cast-on of over 200 stitches to make up the left side seam and armhole (which I somehow managed on the second try with only a minor amount of swearing I’ll have you know) was a hell of a way to start off, and a touch different from my usual long-tail cast-on to start a collar. I was diving in head first to “learning something new” in terms of how to knit a sweater.

A close up of a cable running horizontally across the chest of a red knit pullover.

That being said it was actually a relaxing knit; the stockinette was broken up by some shoulder seaming, the cable repeat, and some minor increases and decreases around the neckline but the construction gave me a couple of problems. I couldn’t really try it on as I went the same way I can with a top-down pullover, because the stitches on the live edge kept shifting around on the waste yarn and there wasn’t much to hold it up except for the join between the front and back on my left shoulder, but I haphazardly pinned it to my body a few times as I went along to have a loose measure of progress; I decided because it’s knit with a few inches of positive ease it wasn’t the biggest deal. That and I forgot to take into account the fact that I’m very comfortable with my stitch gauge, but not as much so with my row gauge, and because of the sideways construction the importance of the two is switched so I had to cut out a couple of pattern repeats along the neckline to make sure I didn’t end up with the world’s widest pullover.

Luckily after a bit of finishing (I love Brooklyn Tweed patterns, but they’re always rife with seaming and kitchener stitching things together and picking up and knitting the entire lower hemline to add ribbing) and a nice soak in some Eucalan, my little project blocked to a lovely loose pullover. The stitch gauge loosened up with blocking so it wasn’t as cropped as it looked while I was knitting it and the fabric relaxed so even though there was no waist shaping it hangs nicely and doesn’t look too blocky.

A close up of the ribbing at the bottom of a red knit pullover

 

As the years have passed I’ve learned to trust myself as a knitter. When I knit I’m brave in a way that I wish I could apply better to the rest of my life. I’m not as timid; the idea of trying new things and learning new things as I go rather than waiting until I’m absolutely sure I can take something on doesn’t scare me as much. Admitting failure isn’t as terrifying either. Though I’m never happy to rip back hours of work or frog a project, I’m not ashamed to acknowledge that something wasn’t working. I’d much rather start over or take two steps backward in order to come out with an end result that I’m proud of. I don’t always take on crazy projects. I love the texture and the drape of fabric and unique shapes, but I also have a strong affinity for clean lines and classic silhouettes. Sometimes I knit just for the sake of knitting. It’s important to find a balance, and I’m getting better at that every day. The Natsumi Pullover walked the line between simple and unfamiliar very well. I expect it will make its way into my regular winter sweater rotation with ease.

A red knit pullover is laid flat on a floral bedspread with a fuzzy blanket behind.