The Knitting, It Scares Me
A vintage sweater pattern from 1940 that I pressed and sewed up on Saturday. It still needs shoulder pads and a handful of black buttons. I picked this one out specifically because of the strange sleeve caps. When I started it I didn't have the spare cash to buy all one color yarn so I frogged two thrift-store cashmere sweaters--a black long-sleeved one in a frumpy style and a short-sleeved pink one with moth holes. I didn't have enough of the black to make the ribbing on the sleeves as long as it was supposed to be, so I did 2" instead of 3". It kinda needs the 3" sleeve ribbing. Hopefully the pocket flaps won't curl like that once I get the buttons on. I'm considering putting a little pointed collar from another 1940s pattern on it because I don't particularly like the plain round neck hole.
The only pattern changes, besides the color and the sleeve ribbing was that I added two inches to the bottom length. Women were a lot shorter in those days and I have to add at least that much to vintage knitting and sewing patterns. It fits pretty well, but the cashmere yarn is a little limp so I'm forced to put in shoulder pads just to make the sleeves look less deformed. I'd like to get some silk/wool blend yarn in one color and knit it again, but maybe without the fussy little "lookit my tits!" pockets.
Yes, I will be posting the pattern up at the Stitch-O-Rama in a couple days, along with a handful of other 1940s sweaters.
No, I will not be posting the pattern to this Aran Nightmare. This man-eatin' sweater was designed from scratch and knitted by me way back in 1986 and it was meant to be oversized. Remember, "oversized" in 1986 meant three people could get into it at one time and still do the Safety Dance. It measures 50" around the chest and is maybe 30" from the neck to the bottom ribbing. I think I used every cable in the Barbara Walker books for no real logical reason I can remember (except to show off some mad knittin' skillz) so it's not a pretty sight. I keep putting this monstrosity in the thrift store bag but I swear it keeps on crawling back out. You can smell the acrylic from across the room and despite its massive weight it isn't at all warm, plus its sheer acreage fills one dresser drawer all by itself.
I shopped for my yarn in Woolworth's in those days and despite the name, Woolworth's never sold any wool, at least when I was learning to knit. Just imagine a Vogue Knitting designer sweater whipped up in Red Heart Super Saver acrylic.
weeps hysterically
