Challenge Socks #6: Mermaid With Golden Hair

I can't believe it's May, let alone mid May!!! April practically flew by, with C's big birthday party, a lovely and long visit from my mother-in-law, the start of a wonderful new job, and more bouts of viruses running through the family than we ever imagined possible in a mere thirty days! May, too, is flying, with Mother's Day last Sunday, my birthday last Monday, and J's birthday today. These are busy, busy times! And in case you were wondering about whether I was still making progress on My So-Called Sock Challenge, I do have something to show for my long-finished March efforts:

I call them Mermaid With Golden Hair because the first line of "Mermaid Song" from Andrew Lloyd-Webber's Aspects of Love ran through my head practically the entire time I knit them. I can't remember the last time I even thought about that musical -- maybe a decade ago?

With these socks, the story is all about the yarn. Oh... My... Goodness! I can't say enough about how I love it!

It's Lollipop Cabin's organic, single-ply sock yarn, from right here in the Pacific Northwest. From their own PR: "Organic Wool Sock Yarn, individually hand-dyed using rain water collected from a wee little cabin located in the Pacific Northwest Cascade Mountains." 

Quaint, no?! Makes me want to go cuddle up with my knitting in that wee little cabin and listen to the rhythm of the rain beating on what I imagine to be a perfectly musical little tin roof before it tumbles into a rain barrel to be collected for dyeing!

I stumbled upon this yarn back in January, when my Mom was visiting. We spent a few days driving around to yarn stores, hitting not only our old favorites but also spreading out to catch some we'd never been to before.

The biggest score happened January 7 at Country Yarn in Snohomish. The shop doesn't have a website, but here's a link to the basic business info. Country Yarn is a real treat for the spinner, as well as the knitter, with a more extensive spinning selection than I've seen locally anywhere but at The Weaving Works -- and certainly a larger and more interesting selection of hand-dyed spinning fibers!

Among other things, I picked up enough Lollipop Cabin yarn for two pairs of socks (the other will be in lovely peaches), and my Mom picked up enough for a pair, herself.

You can get a visual inkling of just how cushiony, springy, densely wonderful this yarn is by looking at the bind-off edge of my socks. See how nice and round and tall the edge stands up? That's all the yarn's doing -- no photo styling!

Compare to the pursed-lip bind-off edge on the Jealous Zigzag socks my sister sent me last month (Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride Superwash) -- which are still getting heavy wear in my sock rotation -- or the similarly flat Fascine-ation socks (Koigu PPM) finished in February -- these socks are positively bursting with body!

Plus they are soft, soft, soft. And as I knit, I enjoyed the slight stretch sensation. A thoroughly enjoyable knitting experience!

Be forewarned if you're a fan of the highly processed: you will encounter little bits of VM in your Lollipop Cabin yarn. No biggie. It's not enough to be a nuisance. Just pick it off as you go.

The angle of this picture really highlights the golden tones:

I love this stitch pattern. You've seen it before on Aesthetic Entanglementz with my Pink Pagewood socks back in December 2008. It's a simple, 1-row, twisted knit rib worked over a multiple of 6 stitches, and I know you'll love it, too, so here it is:

Twisted Rib: K3, P1, K1tbl, P1

You'll notice that although it's made up of a completely symmetrical stitch pattern, the rib looks asymmetrical in the fabric. This is because the twist effectively nudges its stitch to the left a bit. I think it elevates the interest of the humble rib to a greater sophistication. It works equally nicely in a sleek trouser sock or a thick jeans sock. And if you're not a fan of swatching, you don't need to swatch the rib separately from stockinette to be assured of fit!

As you know, I never tire of the Eye of Partridge stitch on my heels. It's so pretty, and the stitch feels even in the back of my socks rather than ridged, like you get with the slipped rib stitch.

I realized in putting this blog together, though, that my sister and I do our heels slightly differently -- even though she also uses my MUMTU pattern. Here's the link to a picture of the heels she put on my Jealous Zigzag socks. Can you tell what's different?

That's right: I put Eye of Partridge on the heel extension (that little triangle-shaped area on the bottom), in addition to the heel flap; she doesn't. There's no right or wrong here -- it's just an example of how people develop their individual ways of doing things. She wears her hand-knit socks every bit as often and hard as I wear mine, and as far as I know she's never had to darn a heel, either. 

One last thing about the Lollipop Cabin. Our County Yarn shopkeeper, who knows the dyer, said this yarn is guaranteed not too pool. You can be sure my ears perked up at that! Now, I am realistic. I know that pooling in socks is as much a factor of gauge and stitch count as it is of some property inherent in the dye work (although I also think hand-dyers can do a better job mathematically predicting probable round-repeats so as to avoid the most unsightly pooling for the majority of sock knitters). I know that some pooling is bound to creep in. I just hope that it's not obnoxious. How did Lolllipop Cabin do?

Pretty darned well! The patterning remains even -- without being icky-stripy -- in all but one area: the gusset. That's the only spot of pooling ... and it's not surprising that the color would sit differently in this area since it's where stitches get increased.

So a big thumbs-up to Lollipop Cabin!

Best of all, I think there's enough yarn left to make a follow-up pair for C, my own little mermaid with golden hair. She'll be thrilled!

My So-Called Sock Challenge Tally (through 4.14.11):

• December (1): Marshlands for My Sister 
• January (2): Twin Ribs for Mom, Fascine-ation for Me
• February (2): Sleep Socks for C, Get Smart Socks for Me
• March (1): Mermaid With Golden Hair for Me

Total: 6 pairs in 4 months

The Details:

Pattern: Mash-Up Magic Toe-Up Socks (designed by me)

Started: March 1, 2011

Completed: April 14, 2011

Materials: Lollipop Cabin Softsock, 2 240-yard skeins, colorway 1804i

Needles: US 2 / 2.75 mm

Gauge: 7.5 st/in

Primary Stitch Count: 60

Another Good Turn

Remember the Marshlands Lace Rib socks I knit, intending them for myself but realizing after they were done that they were better suited to my sister? I shipped them off to her in New Orleans, and despite the fact that temperatures there were on the verge of rocketing out of the comfort range for closed-toe shoes and wool socks, she's gotten some good wear out of them.  

In a funny twist of fate, she found herself in a similar situation. This time it was me who lucked out because these beauties

arrived in my mailbox as a result!

On April 2, as she had just finished the toes of her April challenge socks, Beth called me to talk about my toe-up adaptation of Cookie A's Monkey pattern, which she intended to use. You'll note from the picture that these are not Monkey socks. We talked about the decorative stitch and the particular qualities of her yarn for awhile, and she decided to switch to the decorative stitch used by Christine Walker in her Zigzag socks (published in Vogue Knitting: The Ultimate Sock Book). It's a lovely pattern -- wonderful stitch movement but very light, without the usual density of cables.

Three days later I received the following text:

"I'll be sending u the socks I'm making now. Seem too small for me. Funny. The yarn is better suited for u anyway."

And she's right. The yarn is better suited for me. What's funny is that I never would have selected it myself if I were treasure hunting at the yarn store, but the finished socks undeniably look more like something I would wear than she would. 

It's a Brown Sheep Lamb's Pride Superwash in sport weight.  The colorway, SWS162 Green Envy, inspired her to name the socks Jealous Zigzag -- which I love! (Before I knew the name of the colorway, I thought she called them that because she was jealous they ended up being more right for me than for her -- which is, admittedly, how I felt about sending off the Marshlands.)

You'd think that a yarn called Green Envy would be more . . . green. This yarn is a mix of very pale green and very pale lavender -- and the effect, overall, in the finished socks is silvery. But it's not flat color. It's very, very cool.

She worked the entire day after sending that text. And just five days after casting on had the socks off the needles and blocked. What's more, she had them in the mail the next day! I don't know about you, but it can take me weeks to package up an item and actually deliver it to the post office. She'll deny being an over-achiever, but I can't think of what else to call it! 

Best of all, these are the mushiest, softest, most deliciously wearable socks. They spent the entire last weekend on my feet. I have declared them the best jeans socks ever. Honest to goodness!

And having shared my adoration of them with Beth, I'm pretty sure she actually is jealous now.

I need to reevaluate my sock yarn purchasing choices. Left to my own devices, I wouldn't have had a clue how wonderful this Brown Sheep yarn is.

Ravelers can link to the project page here.

Challenge Socks #5: Get Smart Socks

Every time I look at these socks, all I can think is, "Missed it by that much!" Maxwell Smart eat your heart out. I'm considering starting a gallery of Get Smart Socks -- or even branching out with an entire Get Smart line of projects that just don't quite hit the mark.

Behold:

That's right -- they don't match properly. I had the hardest time splitting this skein! Right around the half-way mark the colors were variations on pinks, purple-pinks, pink-purples, etc, and without a hard line delineating the color changes... well... I messed up. If they weren't so clearly capable of having been matched better, it wouldn't bother me so much. These, though, pretty much scream, "So close and yet so far away!"

I actually bought this yarn in late February 2007. I remember vividly because I made J stop at Acorn Street Shop on the way home from UW Medical Center, where I'd just had surgery for kidney stones. You know how sometimes you think you're doing just fine but you're really totally looped out and it's a good thing they made you bring someone else to drive you home? Well that was me that day! I'd never worked with Noro yarn before. Didn't even have any in my stash. So when I saw this skein of Noro Kureyon Sock on sale, I bought it -- despite the fact that it really didn't look or feel like anything I would enjoy knitting.

And I didn't enjoy knitting them. Not one single moment. The yarn is miserable to work with! It's rough and scratchy. I actually developed callouses on the parts of my fingers and hands that made contact! Moreover, my hands were strained and achey every time I worked on these socks. Every stitch required extra effort. Turning the needles took extra effort. They seemed interminable! I don't know how many times I called my sister to say, "I really hate this yarn."

I found the inconsistencies in grist irritating more than charming. See that bit pooking out weird just below the yellow?

It's an ugh in my book. Pooking is definitely the right word for what it's doing, too. (Sorry I didn't bother to color-correct that picture.)

The parts I liked?

I appreciated the way the colors transitioned. It was interesting to watch as I knit... even as I ground my teeth at the mis-match. I also liked the heels.

For some reason, I really enjoyed the stitch definition and the way the reinforcing thread worked in with the Noro.

I used my beloved Eye of Partridge stitch. This time I put 2 stitches of garter on either side of the heel flap.  It's a neat look.

I really like the fact that they're done, too!

It may be debatable whether my Get Smart Socks can rightfully be counted towards My So-Called Sock Challenge, though. I started them quite some time ago and had worked them up to the point where the gusset starts before I set them aside for a long hibernation. When I pulled the partially knit pair out of my sock yarn stash on February 24 and decided I'd soldier on and finish them rather than frogging them and giving away the yarn, I honestly thought they'd only been hibernating since winter 2010. However, if my notes are correct -- and I'd bet money they are -- I actually cast these on back in February 2009. Read that again: 2009 -- TWO years ago!!! I rarely leave WIPS to languish like that. I did mention that I really hated knitting these socks, right?!

February 24 I picked them back up again. I blasted through the gusset, debated working the faster short-row heel but stuck with my trusted one to ensure these miserable things at least fit, stacked a 3 x 1 rib on top, and knit until I found a stopping point that had a color on the bind-off edge that at least was close if not a match.

So half the socks were done a long time ago. But even though I hadn't frogged them, they basically moved back into my thinking as stash yarn rather than WIP. I'm not playing my sock challenge by any rules other than that I need to use stash yarn and I need to knit at least 12 pairs in a 12-month period, so I've decided to count them.

My So-Called Sock Challenge Tally (as of 2.28.11):

• December (1): Marshlands for My Sister 
• January (2): Twin Ribs for Mom, Fascine-ation for Me
• February (2): Sleep Socks for C, Get Smart Socks for Me

Total: 5 pairs in 3 months

The Details:

Pattern: Mash-Up Magic Toe-Up Socks (designed by me)

Started: February 2009

Completed: February 28, 2011

Materials: Noro Kureyon Sock yarn in a Mork's suspenders-style colorway

Needles: US 1-1/2 / 2.5 mm

Gauge: 8 st/in

Primary Stitch Count: 64

The big question now is whether I'll wear them. They haven't been on my feet yet. I'm told the Noro softens with wearing and that I'll probably end up loving them more than the rest. Wouldn't that be something?! I'm open to that possibility so will keep an open mind. I'm also curious to see how the yarn holds up to wearing since it's not plied. Time will tell!

Challenge Socks #4: Sleeping Socks For C, No. 2

When last we met the fourth installment of My So-Called Sock Challenge (a.k.a. Sleeping Socks for C, No. 2), I was second-guessing my yarn choice. As you may recall, I'd completed the toes before I realized that I was working with a thick-thin yarn that might not be sock-comfy.

On the advice of Shannon and some of my off-line knit compadres, I stopped second-guessing myself and just plain went for it. A mere four days from start to finish, my fourth challenge socks -- made to fit a child size 4 (that's 8 inches long and only an inch shorter than my own size) -- came screaming off the needles:

I had decided to call the handspun, of which I had just shy of 185 yards, Poisoned Apple as a nod to the fact that this project had seemed like it would be such a simple, quick, no-brainer but then I was zapped -- surprised by the reminder that I'd used this yarn to experiment with inconsistent grist. The other thing about this yarn is that I don't have a clue whether the wool is superwash or not. I'd purchased the roving from A New Yarn shortly before the shop went out of business, and it had come in as a donation with no label.

Of course, once I got past my hesitation of whether to continue using the Poisoned Apple handspun for sock, they really were a speedy knit. I didn't analyze yarn weight, but it's probably somewhere between Aran and worsted in the thick areas and between fingering and DK in the thin ones.

I stuck with simple stockinette and let the handspun do its thing. Ironically, the major color shift happened the same place on both socks. The yellow and dark green variations all landed in the space from the toe to the heel, and the brighter greens landed from the heel to the cuff. They're fraternal yet matched in an interesting way.

You may have noticed already that I veered from my standard sock preferences and put in a short-row heel rather than my favored turned heel with gusset.

What persuaded me to do such a thing?!

A reality check: These socks are meant for sleeping in; they're not being worn inside shoes or even on a person who will be upright much of the time they're on. Moreover, I had no intention of spending a lot of time on these socks -- especially considering that fact that if they aren't superwash, they might not have been the best choice for a sleep sock -- and short-row heels knit up more quickly than the heel-flap/gusset variety. The double-wrapped diagonal line is super thick in some places, but it did work quite nicely.

Finished off with a simple 2 x 2 rib cuff at ankle length, they now make a nightly appearance on the Girlio's feet.

Thanks to everyone who encouraged me to soldier on!

Pattern: Mash-Up Magic Toe-Up Socks (designed by Zhenya Lavy)
Materials: Poisoned Apple Thick-Thin Handspun, 183 yds, spun at my Mom's house in Ohio
Skein 1, 93 yds, spun and plied on my sister's Ashford Traditional, 1/27-28/10
Skein 2, 90 yds, spun on my sister's wheel and plied on my Spencer Parasol dropspindle, 1/29/10
Needles: US 4 / 3.5 mm
Gauge: 5 st/in
Primary Stitch Count: 36
Started: February 2, 2011
Completed: February 5, 2011

Challenge Socks #3: Fascine-ation

I can't tell you exactly why it took me so long to post these socks; I can tell you that I absolutely adore them! I completed them exactly one month ago today and call them my Fascine-ation socks. A pattern is forthcoming.

The decorative stitch on these socks is quite wonderful. From a distance, it looks like a cabled braid:

But take a closer look and you discover that there's no cabling involved whatsoever!

The diagonal lines that your eye reads as crossed stitches have been created using the simple technique of slipping stitches that then get passed over newly knit stitches. It's ingenious, quick to work, and easy to execute without those pesky errors that creep in with some stitches just because you can't quite remember -- or figure out -- what row you're on.

To be clear, I'm not the clever knitter responsible for developing the Fascine stitch. As with so many other wonderful stitches, we have Barbara Walker to thank for bringing it to our attention. I think it's an absolutely perfect stitch to try with hand-dyed yarns that don't have long color repeats. The diagonal slip/passover breaks color lines and enhances the visual interest without overpowering the dyer's work.

The Fascine stitch's comparison to cables doesn't stop at resemblance. The stitch draws the fabric of the sock in for a nice, dense, foot-hugging fit. They're so comfortable that they may just be my favorite hand-knit socks to-date!

The basic sock construction follows the MUMTU recipe.  The decorative stitch begins on the top of the foot and extends up the leg for a long, lean look. As is my usual preference, I worked a traditional, turned heel with the Eye of Partridge on the heel flap.

I used Koigu PPM in browns and couldn't be happier with the results. This particular yarn is one of Koigu's more subtle in the nuances of its colorwork, with some areas containing delicate speckling that leaves me puzzled as to the dye technique. Whenever I buy Koigu, I look for colorways with this quality -- as far as I'm concerned, there is no more wonderful dye work done today.  (My Monkey socks were knit from a similarly scrumptious Koigu.) My only disappointment with this yarn was that there were two knots in one of the skeins. I'd not experienced that with Koigu before and was surprised to find the first, let alone a second.

After a 3/4-inch rib, I finished with Jenny's Surprisingly Stretchy Bind-Off:

In this application, the bind-off created an almost ruffled edge. This is because the bind-off's expansiveness gets doubly emphasized by the Fascine stitch's denseness. I imagine the bind-off would have the same impact coming off a cable. The ruffle disappears during wearing, though, so it's not something that could work as a design element.

Specs:

Pattern: Mash-Up Magic Toe-Up Socks (MUMTUS) by Zhenya Lavy
Decorative Stitch: Fascine Stitch worked over a 6-stitch repeat
Materials: Koigu PPM browns with a hint of orange
Needles: US 2 / 2.75mm
Gauge in Stockinette: 7.5 st/in
Primary Stitch Count: 60
Started: January 19, 2011
Finished: February 1, 2011

Rounding Up The Reinforcements

Today I had a nice exchange with Mingo08 on Ravelry. She wrote to ask about the Russian wool I mentioned using as reinforcing thread in yesterday's post about the Marshlands Lace Rib Socks. I've been meaning to blog about reinforcing thread, so I'm grateful to Mingo08 for her nudge!

I reinforce heels and toes in all socks I knit. "Always" -- which means it's my rule (but exceptions can be found).

Back when I first started knitting socks, I considered it mission critical to buy the little cards of reinforcing thread sold in a range of colors to match most yarns. I was in graduate school when the passion for sock knitting really took hold of me. And with a grad student's income, it wasn't long before I decided that, relatively speaking, reinforcing thread was expensive. Too expensive.

Pictured above are just the cards I have left. The sticker prices range from $2.50 to $3.50 per card (the last I bought would have been at least four years ago, so those are old prices). At two cards per pair of socks, reinforcing thread tacked an additional $10-$14 onto the cost of my "affordable little projects."

About four years ago, I picked up several skeins of Moscow Yarn Company's wool in two lace weights Ksenia (cobweb) and Lydia (even finer cobweb). I found them at A New Yarn, the non-profit yarn store I adored which sold both new and donated yarns -- you could find amazing things there until they closed in Spring 2009. I didn't have a project in mind, but at $1 per skein figured I'd come up with a nice shawl pattern someday. The wool went into my stash, where it sat for awhile.

One day I wanted to start a pair of socks but didn’t have matching reinforcing thread on hand. I was looking around for somethind else that might work and remembered the Moscow Yarn Company wool. At such a light weight and with a nice twist, it held up in comparison to the cards I did have on-hand and seemed like a good substitute.  

I've never looked back. The darker, Lydia, is my favorite. In fact, I use it pretty much exclusively now. And whenever I teach sock classes, I invite my students to wind off enough for their projects, too. It’s performed really really well and saved me a ton of money. I haven't even finished off one skein's worth yet. Plus, because it’s already put-up in a center-pull format, it’s really convenient for me to pack two skeins in with my sock project pack and just knit off what I need.

The darker grey color works equally well when in contrast to the base yarn...

On Stripes of Sunshine I experimented with reinforcing toes only 

so I could see how well the Eye of Partridge heel stitch 

holds up on its own. (The answer is "very well.")

 On the Pagewood Farms' Butterfly colorway,

I expected it to show up more and was surprised

by how little contrast it ended up having.

On the Twin Rib socks I made my Mom in December, 

the contrast is more apparent yet still looked 

as if it had been designed expressly to go with the Regia Bamboo.

... as when in harmony with the base yarn....

 I can't even see it on the Country Garden socks, can you?

 The only thing giving it away on the Marshlands Lace Rib is the denser fabric

where the reinforcing wool is used. I suppose you can see a hint 

as if outlining some of the lighter colored stitches on the heel.

It wears like iron. I haven't worn through any of the toes or heels on socks reinforced with it yet -- and unless I'm wearing gym shoes, the only socks that go on my feet are handknits. I may have mentioned before that as a die-hard fan of heeled boots, I'm pretty hard on my socks. Toes, especially.

But there’s nothing particularly special about the Moscow Yarn Company wool for reinforcing except that it's what I have in my knitting bag at all times and that the dark grey truly does blend nicely with everything I’ve made. I don't even bother to take this yarn out of my bag. It's always at-the-ready.

As far as I'm concerned, you could use just about any nice lace-weight wool and be happy with it. You probably have something sitting in your stash already that’s left-over from another project and more-than-enough to keep you in toes and heels for awhile. 

In fact, I have another couple of wools that I also picked up from A New Yarn once I figured out this little trick.

As you can guess, I haven't felt the need to use them yet, so I can't say how the 2/20 weaving worsted performs. I can say that the mustard one held up remarkably well to the playful assault of my cardboard-chewing cat, Mouse, when the tube skidded under the bed during the week of our move... although it did lose its label!

Challenge Socks #1: Marshland / A Bit Of A Rant About Pooling

Warning: I'm opinionated about pooling in yarn. Although I don't normally get crabby in my blog, I do in this one. If you just want to know about the socks, skip way down to "About The Socks."

On January 1 of last year, my sister, mother, and I went in together on a rather large purchase of sock yarns from DBNY. The girls at DBNY were hosting the 10th Annual Cherry Tree Hill Yarn January Sale and with free shipping on orders over $100, what better time to stock up? I picked up the usual Cherry Tree Hill deals found at DBNY and also tried some stuff from Indie Dyer and even-newer-comers Ivy Brambles and 2DI4 (a hand-dyed co-op). I won't go into all the inter-relatedness of the dyers and the retailers. Suffice it to say they're all related by blood or by virtue of having been trained/mentored by Cheryl of Cherry Tree Hill.

2DI4's Marshlands Duo colorway had seemed so promising. If you look really closely at the sock below, you'll see that it really does contain a lovely array of color:

When you take a wide view, though, less-than-desireable results in the yarn practically scream at you. For example, there's a dominant color split almost exactly dividing the top from the bottom of the foot. See how the green's on top and the brown's below?

It's only a problem on the foot; the leg looks lovely. The foot and leg are the same stitch count. The only difference is that I didn't do decorative stitch on the bottom.

Here's another aspect of the same problem:

Looking from the top you see that the sock on the left has a big swooping S-shape in brown; on the right is the same swooping S-shape, this time in green/yellow.

Ugh!

Pooling is unsightly and displeases me. It's the aesthetic equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. When the same shape of pooling appears in two different colors within the same hank of yarn, I question not only the dyers' sophistication and attentiveness but also their very goal. Are they serious about making a quality product? It seems to me that unless a dyer is deliberately aiming for a self-striping effect, a clearly repeated pattern of color, or long color changes, pooling of the kind seen above just plain shouldn't happen. Period.

It doesn't matter how beautiful the color combinations are -- and this color combination is quite pretty -- if the end results look like lazy hack work. This is what you get from simplistic space dyeing techniques -- the kind of stuff anyone can shlop together in their kitchen. It's not artistry, it's mindless pouring that lends itself well to what has, perhaps, become its own genre of fiber dyeing: mass small batch production (lay out 4 hanks, pour color A "here," pour color B "here," etc.).  The reality of that laziness is disguised when the yarn is re-skeined (often at a slightly different swift diameter), so buyers can't tell what they're really getting.

The whole "one-of-a-kind colorway," "done in small batches," "never to be repeated" exclusivity rhetoric is great when the product is great. (Think about Koigu PPPM: That's artistry... colorwork of the highest order.) But this product isn't great. The reason it can't be repeated has less to do with the dyeing process or any artistic inspiration than with the technical mixing of the colors.

It may be hand-made, but I'm not convinced it earns the descriptor "hand-crafted." It's priced more in line with the boutique yarns. (The $15.99 I paid for my 100g was a sale price.) For me, it's either a step just above or a step just below early incarnations of commercially produced variegation.


If you've been following my blog, you know that this isn't the first time I've mentioned my disappointment over pooling. 2DI4 is my example of-the-moment and certainly not alone in such criticism. Perhaps it's the rest of their PR that exacerbated my frustration:

From the 2DI4 PR: "'2DI4 Duo' starts as one 450 yard hank of yarn. Then it is divided in half and tied together with a gift tag. This enables the knitter to knit both socks, mittens, or gloves at once as desired while also ensuring that each pair will look similar and that one sock, mitten or glove can be knit from one duo. Plus, it allows for convenient portability." 

Fancy language for "dyed in 100g hanks and split at the shop so sock knitters don't have to do it at home." As for "convenient portability," doesn't that come with the territory of small yardage? It's not like they wind it into center-pull balls. The description is so over-thought as to be almost insulting to the intelligence of the knitters they seek to woo.

Thus endeth the rant. I have one final comment to make on the performance of this yarn within the sock description, but I promise not to go on at-length! 

About The Socks

Pattern: Mash-Up Magic Toe-Up Socks (MUMTUS) by Zhenya Lavy

Decorative Stitch: Lace Rib Stitch

Started: December 5, 2010

Completed: December 25, 2010

Materials: 2DI4 Duo, Marshlands colorway, 2 skeins (450 yards), 80/20 superwash wool/nylon

Needles: US 2 / 2.75 mm

Primary Stitch Count: 68

Gauge in Stockinette: 8.5 st/in

These socks are for my sister and will be sent to NOLA shortly. I hadn't set out to knit them for Beth, originally. I even wore them twice myself already. But when I washed and reblocked them, I looked at them on the sock blockers and realized that these socks practically screamed at me to send them to her. They look as if they were made for her -- and because the decorative stitch pattern is so forgiving, I'm pretty sure they'll fit her, too.

The decorative stitch, which starts at the toe, is the Lace Rib Stitch. I like it and will definitely use it again! As with the Mock Cable from my handspun, handknit socks, it's a simple 4-row repeat (multiple of 6 + 2, make sure to swatch for gauge/fit):


1 & 3 (WS): *P2, K1* repeat; end P2
2: *K2, P1, YO, SSK, P1* repeat; end K2
4: *K2, P1, K2tog, YO, P1* repeat; end K2

I love the serpentine effect of the line between the major ribs!

To finish off, I used Jenny's Surprisingly Stretchy Bind-Off, which has become my first-choice bind-off for toe-up socks. I like to shoot pictures of the top edge because this particular bind-off follows the line of the stitches you're binding off -- which means it always looks different. With these socks, I shifted from the decorative stitch to a simple 2x2 rib for the last 3/4 inch.

As I mentioned, I did wear these socks twice before the first wash. I thought you'd be interested in seeing how the yarn has performed so far:

See how the heel is fuzzy and lacking stitch definition? That's not a depth-of-focus issue, it's the yarn. I was shocked! This, after just two wearings, is worse than most of my handknit socks look after six months. Fortunately, the heels are reinforced with my favorite, Russian reinforcing wool -- and that yarn is still in fine shape, it's the 2DI4 that's fuzzing out around it. So for performance, too, I have to call this another strike for 2DI4.

My sister and I had a long chat about these socks. She knows my frustration with the yarn. She's also really excited that she's being gifted a handknit pair. As I've mentioned before, she's usually the one gifting to everyone else. 

Next time she gets a pair from me, I'll have set out with her in mind from the beginning. I feel bad for having missed out on that wonderful experience when I'm knitting something for someone else of spending the duration of the project thinking about that person, imagining how much enjoyment s/he'll get out of the gift, envisioning her/him wearing the gift, imbuing every stitch with love.

Confession 2.13.11

Like a dieter deliberately withholding from friends and loved ones any indication that s/he is dieting until she's had some success and is sure she's committed, I've been keeping a secret. Today I go public.

My So-Called Sock Challenge: 

December 2010 through November 2011, 

I will knit no fewer than twelve pairs of socks. 

It's self-imposed. I need to knit down my stash. 

Historically I've prided myself on having a very small and tidy stash, purchasing new yarn only as-needed for a new project and rarely having more than one or two extra projects' worth on hand. After coming down from the euphoria of a few indiscriminate buying binges in 2008 and 2009, I now have a luxury of beautiful yarns (especially sock yarns) that, frankly, borders on the obscene. The magnitude became all-too-apparent when we moved last spring and I gathered all the skeins that used to be scattered around our old, much-smaller house into a single location at the new house. Too much... way too much.

The rules of the challenge are simple: Produce at least one pair per month of the challenge. That's it. Nothing rigid like "must begin and end during the same month" or "must cast on a new pair the first of the month." Twelve months equals twelve pairs (minimum). If I get ahead and finish twelve pairs early, great! I'll consider my challenge successful. In that case, I may or may not stop early. We'll see how I feel about it if that happens.

My only confidant about the challenge was my sister, and she decided to participate in solidarity -- which I love! She created a more rigid challenge schema for herself, though, so we're not doing exactly the same thing. And á la the Yarn Harlot, she also already picked out what yarn's she's using, selected patterns for each, and set up monthly kits. Not me! No, I'm winging it all loosey goosey on-the-fly. 

My So-Called Sock Challenge Tally (as of 2.11.10):

• December (1): Marshlands for My Sister 
• January (2): Twin Ribs for Mom*, Fantastic Fascine Socks for Me
• February (1 so far): Sleep Socks for C

Total: 4 pairs in 3 months

I already blogged about the Twin Rib socks for Mom. I decided to count these in my challenge, even though they didn't use yarn from my stash, because they use yarn from my mom's ample stash -- which aligns them with my goals for the challenge. My challenge, my loose rules!

You also already saw a bit about my conundrum (now resolved) with the Sleep Socks for C.

Postings about socks already completed are on their way. A new pair will hit the needles as soon as I finish my Bridgewater Shawl (which may... may... happen as early as tomorrow).

Mind you: This challenge won't completely deplete my sock yarn stash. It will make a good dent, though!

Anyone who wants to join us in our So-Called Sock Challenge is welcome -- no application necessary. 

How To Extend The Life Of Handknit Socks

Why do I crank out multitudes of socks?

Because I adore knitting but have a scarcity of time and their diminutive palatte holds infinite possibility for the exploration of design and technique. Every stitch is a precious thing.

For my mother, who forges on despite disability, it takes an entire year to make a single pair of socks. Every stitch is a precious thing.

My sister believes everybody in the extended family -- and even extended circle of friends -- deserves not just one but two pairs of handknit socks. So strong is her conviction that she has committed to being a one-woman go-to source for fiber love. She moves them out at breakneck speed -- and still, every stitch is a precious thing.

Rather than frame our work behind archival glass or limit their rotation in our wear cycle, we firmly believe we (or our loved ones) ought to be able to wear the heck out of our handknit socks well into the next millenium.

But socks pay a steep price for the privilege of being among our beloved pairs. Worn patches appear on the best of them, and none can escape the assault of toes and their insidious toenails pressing upon them from within a heeled boot. Sooner or later, something's gonna give!

Here's a little tip that can help delay the inevitable:

Before washing, turn your socks wrong side out!

Washing your handknit socks wrong-side-out increases likelihood that any fuzzy halos accumulating over time will appear on the insides rather than the outsides.

Turning the foot-sweaty side out when you wash encourages dirt to move more freely out into the wash water rather than staying trapped within the sock itself -- and less dirt equates to less wear.

I know, I know... somewhere out there is a scientist who can produce research demonstrating that those of us inclined to knit socks by hand are also, nine times out of ten, inclined to turn our clothes right side out before tossing them in the hamper. But muster the strength to move past your compulsion and give this tip a try. Can't hurt, and your socks might thank you!