backdoor lover (aka “ode to combined knitting”)

Elsewhere, I’ve ranted about my hatred of the term “combined knitting,” because it doesn’t combine anything. It’s not even a metaphor. It’s nothing! So I call the technique “backdoor knitting,” because you have to knit through “backwards” stitches.

In my journey to becoming a continental knitter, I definitely struggled with purl stitches. Even once I’d mastered a couple different techniques, I still found that doing them backwards–wrapping the yarn clockwise under the needle rather than counter-clockwise over the needle– was way faster and kept my gauge more even. The knitted fabric I can produce working Continental is still not as even and perfect as my English products were, but I can work faster and it stresses my wrists less.

All that to say that it was worthwhile for me to figure out some new techniques to make backdoor knitting practical for more than just ribbing and stockinette. While many books and most sites cover combined knitting, the treatment is abbreviated to knits and purls, without any real discussion. I’m going to attempt some practical guidelines here, continuing to update this entry with pictures and techniques as I figure them out.

I also think this is something that might be useful to new knitters– I twisted my purl stitches even when I was first learning to knit English. Many new knitters make this “mistake,” and I think it’s useful to understand that you’re not doing it *wrong,* per se, you’re just using an exotic technique that most books, sites, and fellow knitters aren’t really equipped to help you with. Learn both ways– only good things can come from picking up new techniques=)

PS– When I met Taylor, he could perform all the choreography from Josie and the Pussycat‘s “Backdoor Lover.” Can you blame me for bringing him home? Well, maybe you can. But I still think it’s charming=)

 

Contrary to popular belief…

two-handed fair isle is the best thing ever! I’m so excited– my boss wanted me to work on creating a newsboy-style cap for the store. Moreover, she wanted me to do it in cotton–not the first fiber one would think of for something that really needs to hold its shape.

So the idea of colorwork came to me– all the bad things about colorwork (it pulls the work in and makes it thicker) would be *good* things for this hat. My first approach was to do six stripes that would spiral and then follow the line of the crown decreases. This was fine, except that the amount of twisting involved is kind of annoying, so it was taking me forever to do. Plus, I had adventurously tried to do some of the ribbing Continental, which had whacked out my gauge and (again) taken forever.

So I frogged. And I decided that rather than worry about all the twisting (since I still wanted vertical spirals), I would do one-stitch stripes in between the six larger stripes. Moreover, rather than using a smaller needle for the brim ribbing (part of the problem with the whacked out gauge), I’d start the colorwork along the brim, which would pull in the rib more naturally. It doesn’t have much stretch, but since it’s not an over-the-ears hat, whatever.

Two handed colorwork is a godsend. I can now fly along switching colors without dropping and picking up strands, without ever getting my yarns tangled, and without copious amounts of swearing. It’s so damn cool. Plus, because you’re carrying both yarns, the strands at the inside lie nice right where they’re supposed to– no too-tight loops or giant gaping strands.

So it’s now my mission in life to design things that require two-handed colorwork, yet do not have reindeers in them. Anywhere. Starting with this hat=)

For the store, it will be called the Candy Striped Newsboy Cap. Privately, I’m calling it the Candyass Newsie– cause who loves a challenge (like learning fair isle) more than a gay journalist?

 

Do you continental knitters….

absolutely hate making I-cords? I’ve gotten pretty good with this continental thing, and I think I’m even growing to like it. But I-cords? The satchel I’m working on has an I-cord bind-off, which I love the effect of (I plan to use it muchly), but I’ve decided that knitting an I-cord with the yarn in your left hand is suicidal. Let me explain.

When you slide stitches over (or, in this case, slip them back onto the left needle), you’re working yarn is already three stitches to the left. Why in the name of zeus would you keep the yarn in your left hand while you’re trying to work a stitch three paces to the right?

See? (excuse my one-handed photography–you try to take pictures of yourself knitting!)

I can make it work, but why struggle unnecessarily? When I knit English, the yarn is already on the right because that’s where you hold it anyway:

Ashley just arrived, and she informed me that she holds the yarn in front of the needle, even when she’s knitting, which solves the working yarn issue. I’ve never noticed that she knits that way, and I’ve never seen anyone else do that–maybe another technique to try when I’m not all techniqued-out.