I am knitting my 6th top down cardigan.
The first top down cardi I made, was too small, and now lives in the closet in Macon. The second was a disaster, and got frogged, the third was the February Lady sweater and it’s too big, but I wear it all the time anyway. The fourth was the Mr. Greenjeans, which is damn near perfect. The fifth is the callie, and it’s also damn near perfect.
When I first started knitting, my goal was sweaters. I made 5 my first knitting year, hated the way all of them looked on me, and then moved on to socks, shawls, gloves, hats, and scarves. ANYTHING that didn’t make me feel bad about myself upon completion.
In 2005, I again attempted sweaters, and fell in love with the idea of the top down cardi. The first one I made was the boobholder by Stephanie Japel. It was a great intro into top down cardigans, but if you look at pictures of this project, you can see all the things that can go wrong. Mine is perfectly proportioned, I wore it twice when I was about 20lbs lighter and then put it in the closet. I won’t rip it back, and I won’t give it away because it was one of the first sweaters that I made that was actually attractive.
My next few attempts were not so good, and this was pre-ravelry so I couldn’t see what 1200 women of all shapes and sizes looked like in my pattern. I checked out “Knitting from the Top Down” from the local library and it made my head hurt. I bought a pattern from “Knitting Pure & Simple” but couldn’t get gage with the yarn I had, which was a thick and thin, and was recently donated to my friend Grace. I also tried this sure to fit pattern, which gives technical advice on how to make a top down cardigan, but isn’t meant to flatter the female body, and doesn’t give any advice on how to accentuate the positive.
Sweaters are personal, they show off the best and worst of our bodies, and sometimes they show what used to be our best is now our worst. When a sock doesn’t fit, I don’t feel the need to lock myself in the bedroom with a glass of diet coke and a bag of potato chips. I don’t mourn my 20’s. I don't consider going back on the cocaine and red wine diet. I accept the defeat gracefully.
Sometimes, if I like the yarn, I will unravel it, but usually, I just toss the evil sock into the back of my sock drawer, and wait for a day when my foot looses a few pounds. The other thing that makes knitting sweaters a bit horrific for me, is the time factor. When I am not working, I can knock out a sweater in a month, but when I am working a sweater can take me an entire season. To spend 4 months knitting something, and THEN find out it doesn’t fit. THE HORROR.
Now, if you’re an experienced knitter, which many of you are, you are thinking to yourself. “Why doesn’t she do a gauge swatch? Doesn’t she check her gauge? Is she washing/ blocking her swatch? Is she checking measurements throughout the process of knitting?”
“Yes, yes, yes, and yes.”
These are all valid questions, and dear readers, these are all the same 'snotty ass' questions, I also ask myself when one of my friends knits a sweater that doesn’t fit.
GAUGE, GAUGE, GAUGE. It’s everywhere.
BUT bodies are funny things, and how we perceive ourselves is even funnier. When I knit the February Lady Sweater, I just knew I was an extra large. I knit for two weeks, used up two skeins of yarn, and completed about six of perfect knitting. I rechecked my gauge, and it had changed. I ripped it back, and started over. The second time, I got gauge for the sweater, and checked it against my body. It was a little big, but at the time, I was certain I was an extra large. I was terrified that a large would be too snug, and that all that knitting time be for not. Bigger is better, right?
Two sweaters that fit later, and even after worrying and learning all that EASE crap, I found out that a large fits me well. “I will take a 42, please.” I have also found that the best test for me is to try it on a few times, and to make sure when I try it on, I wear a bra, and maybe a similar top to what I will be wearing with the sweater. I also walk around, and move my arms up and down. This my friends, is another reason I love knit picks needles.
There is also knowing what a yarn will do, and really the only way to know this is by having some knitting time under your belt. I know that superwash and alpaca both stretch. If I am knitting with a fiber I haven’t worked with before, I will ask a friend or read reviews of the yarn. If I am in between sizes on a sweater I want to make, I will err on the side of the yarn.
My current sweater (the liesl) is made with handspun. Handspun is some of the scariest shit out there to knit with. It’s my yarn. I made it. With this yarn, I not only spun it, I carded it, and I dyed it. Ugh. When I first started knitting most of my projects had that wonky uneven look of being handmade and people always knew I made it myself. My handspun is far from perfect, but I have found that 3 plying the yarn gives it a more finished look, and with some creative pattern choices my handspun looks pretty good.
Once again, my heart is involved; it’s the double whammy of my body, working with my wonky yarn. Yikes! What a scary combo. I picked the Liesl as my first handspun sweater, because it was an aran weight, which meant for fast knitting, and spinning. It’s feather and fan which is a great choice for uneven yarn, and most importantly it is top down, which meant I could try it on as I go. I figured five IF five hours into knitting it, it looked like something little kitty puked up, I would cast on something pretty.
The number one reason, I love top down is that I can check my work as I go. I don’t have to wait until I am through knitting it to see what a sweater will look like on me. I try on my sweater a lot when I am working on it. Every step of the way, I have a pretty good idea of what it’s going on, and if something is not working I can figure out what to do about it.
For example, I worked my first sleeve of the liesl. I used size 10’s which is the same size needle, I used for the body, and the body fits very well. Well, the first sleeve was pretty tight. My guess is it will probably block out looser, and after some wearing time the yarn will stretch. The yarn was a combo of BFL superwash, Alpalca, and Merino so I know it’s going to stretch, BUT it really bothered me that the sleeve was so snug. My biceps are big, and the tightness around the biceps is not new to me, it happens a lot when I am shopping. It’s also an emotional sore spot with me, and even when I go weeks without working out, I still keep free weights near my bed, and I will do a few sets of weights from time to time so that my large biceps don’t turn into my large flabby biceps.
Here is the thing, “Why the HELL, would I want to continue knitting a sweater that is tight on me?” I slept on it, which meant I spend the night in a half sleep state, wondering if I could increase the sleeves. I realized the only way to do that would be to add another 8 stitches. What if I went up a needles size? “Kinda to think of it, don’t always knit a little tighter in the round?”
I cast on the second sleeve in 10.5 and it fit pretty well.
It’s probably only a ½ inch difference, but proportionally it feels better, and it’s snug without feeling tight and since the sweater is an aran weight and it’s wool, I think less insulation is a good thing. I have about 3 more inches, and then I will have to rip back the first sleeve, and re-work. The nice thing about aran weight sweaters is how fast they work up, the downside is that athough I have only been knitting it for a few weeks, it’s gotten heavy, and the weight of the sweater alone makes me want to be done with it.
If you have a fear of sweaters, I recommend trying top down. You can throw a rock and hit a decent top down sweater pattern. Or go look in my queue. If you think top down sweaters, are lacking shaping, take a peak at Wendy Bernard work. Next on my list is “Wicked.” But first, I am planning to finally make DH a sweater. Uggh. To prepare myself for this, I cast on Damson (another Ysolda pattern).