What's up.

Things around here are pretty slow, between the weather and the pain situation. More doctors and physical therapists this week, but for now, the weather looks like this:

Note the gray skies that say "more snow soon".

This morning the husbeast called me from work (he's still working Saturdays for the overtime), and we were talking, and he made this statement: "I didn't slide into that guy's front yard again this morning, so that was good." Usually he goes to work before the snow plows are out (or WHILE the snow plows are out, he loves that), so it's an adventure, even allowing for the fact he's in a huge vehicle with four wheel drive. He's passed two snow plows in ditches this week on his way to work.

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I've been spinning. I finished up the fawn-colored alpaca (well, finished half of it) that I'd intended to give to my mother-in-law for Christmas. Since I wound up buying her something instead, I'm putting this aside for That Project, the sweater I'm gradually accumulating natural-colored animal fibers for. (I intend to get some bison, yak, and other exotics for that project, as well as assorted types of wools and camelids; it'll take a year at least to accumulate enough yarn the way I'm spinning).

This was a bear to spin. Not impossible, but for someone like me, who spins for relaxation, it was quite a lot of bother. It's alpaca top. Top means the fibers were combed smooth, and then pressed straight and flat. Wool top is fun to spin because it's easy to draft; all the fibers smoothed out move around easily. But alpaca is smoother than wool to begin with, on a molecular level (not as many scales), so alpaca top is too much of a good thing - it's so slippery it's really difficult to draft and ply without pulling the fibers completely apart. Not fun. Once it's done, it's really super soft, though.

I had a couple other exotics here to spin, from the Great Fiber Binge. Tussah silk (that I'd dyed myself), and more of the alpaca. Plus the pencil roving I still want to try supercoils with. But after the alpaca, I'd about had it with difficult technique and wanted to return to my spinning-for-relaxation plan. So instead, I got out the fibers I'd gotten to experiment with color blending (the orange-to-pink) and started spinning that.

The label doesn't say what exact kind of wool it is. I'm thinking of it as New Zealand Mystery Sheep, but it feels like Corriedale, or possibly a Corrie/Romney blend. So it's an easy spin. Just what I was looking for. Aaaah.

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If you're looking closely at the background of the last photo, you can see what the new time suck here at House O Samurai is.

We got a Wii. Actually, it's worse than that. We got a large screen TV AND a Wii. It had been planned for quite some time; the husbeast has wanted a new TV since, literally, before we got married. But I kept saying "the TV we have is fine". Eventually, over the last eighteen years, I let myself be talked around to the idea of a new TV, a large screen, but since we had a working TV, I'd only agree to it if we paid cash. (No going into debt for luxuries. We're finally out of debt and I'm not going back in willingly.) Remember the move from South Carolina to Ohio, back at the end of July? We finally got reimbursed for the move, from the military, right before Christmas. So we used some of the money to buy presents, and then in the after-Christmas sales, we went wild and got the TV and Wii.

The Goober is having loads of fun with it; we got one of the racing games, where you drive around, and she has a ball. We're on the lookout for other games for the Goober, maybe educational ones. But for now she's content to run into things and watch us play Super Mario World. One night after we put her to bed, we decided to play a game of bowling together, and when the Goober heard the game go on, shouted "HEY!" in annoyance from her bedroom.

Watching hockey in high-def is ten kinds of awesome.

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Still knitting, on a couple half-assed, super-easy projects, and getting psyched to get back to work on the Lustkofen. Starting the Christmas knitting a year and three months in advance, yeah, I gotta try that again. Talk about low stress.

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By the way, on the fashion subject. I get the idea of fashion-as-art and photography-as-art. Really. I just don't think VK is it. A blog I've been following lately is Haute Macabre, a blog run by some women who lean toward goth with a pinch of steampunk. They're pretty cool about finding affordable clothes to suggest, interspersed with photos from Japanese Vogue and other fun things. I don't like all of it, but I think all of it is haute. At the least, they choose things that are on the right track, in terms of fashion-as-art.

Vogue Knitting, Winter 2010

(How did it get to be 2010? Really?)

Welcome to possibly my last VK review. I'm not sure I'm going to continue them; I've hit super-high disgust levels with this issue. The letter from the editor is insulting, the designs are hyped to be something they're not, and, well, I'm disgusted. We'll see.

There seems to be (still) some confusion over 'blame' and all that. When it comes to the models, I think they're doing their jobs. They show up, they put on the clothes they're handed, and they make them look as good as possible. In some cases (I'll discuss it in detail with the photos), I actively feel sorry for them. So who do I really think is to blame for bad photography? Trisha Malcom is the editor in chief and supposedly the final word on what goes into the magazine. Creative director, Joe Vior. Fashion Stylist, Sarah Liebowitz. Photographers vary and aren't listed, but them too. They're the ones who decide on this mess. I'm sure there are a lot of others involved at the decision-making level. The models and designers? They're just trying to make a living.

My biggest beef with this issue is the one I have with Vogue Knitting in general: Quite a bit of what is in the magazine this time around is perfectly fine, wearable stuff. But it is NOT high fashion, haute anything, or even particularly stylish. They're going with Big Names rather than good clothes, and they're unwilling to pay designers to do truly original work. (For that, look to yarn company publications.) They also use knitting terminology in a way that shows that at least the copywriters have no idea how knitting really works, and I seriously wonder about that claim in the editor's letter that "almost everyone here knits".

As always, I refer to patterns by number, not page, and anything in quotes is from the magazine.

Advertising is full of good-looking sweaters knit at mostly smaller gauges in intelligent silhouettes (fairly fitted; long sleeves for cold weather, etc).

The 'new yarns' section is a couple balls of Rowan's Scottish Tweed plunked down on a white background. No one could be bothered to knit a swatch? There's a list of other tweed yarns on the page, but no one could be bothered to include even a photo of those, either.

The article from Meg Swansen's son, Cully, completes the three-part series of grandmother, mother, and son hat designs. His is two-colored cables, and very cool looking. He says he's getting into knitting more, and is fascinated by the geometry of it. He's got a new pullover pattern coming out with Schoolhouse Press; it should be fun to watch him start designing and see what he does.

Techniques discusses The Thumb Trick and corrugated ribbing, used on the mittens in this issue. I'm rather disgusted that The Thumb Trick part doesn't even call it that, and never mentions Elizabeth Zimmerman, considering she invented it.

So, the patterns.

First section, "Knit drama. Knit exuberance. Knit Vogue." I may not sneer if I saw any of those qualities in any design in the magazine. "Sweater season is no time to be shy. Flaunt your stitching in high style, with striking color and fabulous fiber." Striking color, yet every design in this section is gray and cream. I really wonder if the copywriters have ANY idea what they're writing about, or if they just spew stuff out like monkeys at typewriters trying to produce Shakespeare.


1. Striped cardigan by Brandon Mably. One size, 67in/170cm. Uses 1824 wool, which makes it almost affordable ($140 USD, not bad for all that acreage of fabric). I hate to ruin it for everyone who hated this, but it's actually a solid design. My Starry Night Ruana Thingy is based on the same cut, and while it will never be body conscious, it is comfortable and warm. What makes it look stupid is how they've got the model standing, and that asinine suspender the stylist hooked up over it. (It's supposed to hang loosely, so you put a suspender over it. Brilliant.)




2. Shawl collar cardigan by Cathy Caron. 34 to 49in/86 to 125cm. This isn't bad. It's not earth-shattering high fashion, but it's a nice enough cardigan if you go for that. The dark band around the waist combined with the light color of the sleeves flatters blockier figures. The photo, though... it looks like there's a pole up the model's... uh. Well. I flipped to this page and actively felt sorry for the model.




3. Cowl neck pullover, by Mari Lynn Patrick. Sizes from 49 to 53in/124 to 134cm. Now I ask you. Who would this flatter? The model looks like a woolly mammoth. Why would anyone larger look any better? There's nothing wrong with this if you're looking for a sweatshirt to knock around in, but if that's style, I'll eat it.




4. Fair isle tunic by Jean Moss. No idea what's up with the Sailor Moon pose with the model. Sizes from 35 to 43in/89 to 109 cm. Without exhaustive tech editing, a look at the pattern shows no mention whatsoever of steeks, and I think you're meant to knit all that stranded color back and forth. Awkward to knit AND awkward to wear. If you lopped this off at the waist and put in some regular ribbing there, this'd make a cute short-sleeved sweater vest sort of thing.


Second section, "The Exotic Allure of the Traditional." They're mining old, traditional patterns and trying to convince us they're high fashion. "Timeless colorwork. Contemporary fibers and shapes. Fair Isle is having its moment... again." As usual they apply the term Fair Isle to any stranded color work, when really only about half (or less) of these patterns are truly Fair Isle.


5. Flowered vest by Kathy Merrick. Sizes from 36 to 51 inches/91 to 129cm. This isn't Fair Isle. If anything, it's Norwegian inspired. Those flowers are almost Norwegian stars. No mention here of steeks, either. More stranded color worked flat. If you're looking for a fairly traditional vest to keep warm this winter, this one is nice enough.




6. V-neck pullover by Lisa Whiting. Sizes from 35 to 49in/89 to 125cm. This IS a Fair Isle, in that it's got the bands of color over patterns based on (loosely in this case, but it's there) the XOs of the older Fair Isles. It DOES use steeks (the yarn is alpaca, so I'd use a sewn steek here, preferably with a sewing machine, to make sure that slippery alpaca stays put). I've read the pattern and still don't understand how the sleeves work. And, well, if the model doesn't look like she has a waist... I'd use this as inspiration for a regular long-sleeved V neck myself.




7. Floral Cardigan, by Josh Bennett. Sizes from 34 to 44in/86 to 111cm. "Visit our website for back, fronts, and sleeve charts." It's a nice enough cardigan. I'd like it more if some attempt had been made to match up the flowers at the shoulders, instead of a jumble of cut up flower bits sewn together. (If you did this top down and used the charts as a general guideline, you could make the flowers work at the shoulders.) It's intarsia, by the way. Which isn't, you know, remotely related to Fair Isle.




8. Fair Isle Cardigan, by Heidi Kozar. Sizes, 36 to 53in/93 to 136cm. The patterns make the Fair Isle label sketchy, but it IS knit in stranded color technique with steeks. Which is kind of impressive, because it's got shaped sleeve caps and waist shaping. This would look good on most everyone who could fit into it.


Section three, "GRAY! A smoky hot trend." Har. "When it comes to showing off sophisticated stitchwork, shades of gray matter." Every last pattern in this section makes the model look like a stump. It's kind of impressive, really. In a weird sort of way.


9. Tunic Vest by Mari Lynn Patrick. Sizes 35 to 40in/89 to 103cm. That's ridiculously small, even for Vogue, considering it's meant to go over other stuff. You can't see it in the photo here, but on Vogue 360, it shows the pockets don't even line up, and the whole thing bags around the model's hips. Just what a girl wants; baggy hips.




10. Belted tunic by Rosemary Drysdale. Sizes from 46 to 54in/118 to 138cm. On Vogue 360, the model looks pregnant in this. If you've GOT to knit it, knit the belt differently. That thing is as big around as my arm, and will do NOTHING to accentuate your waist. It'd be like wrapping yourself in a fire hose.




11. Cabled cardigan by Shiri Mor. Sizes, 34 to 52in/86 to 132cm. All the ribbing on this thing is doubled; there are two layers of it. Not folded over for extra stretch, just extra ribbing on top of what's there. I'd use that yarn to lengthen the sleeves, myself.




12. Cable panel tunic by Suvi Simola. Sizes, 33 to 51in/84 to 131cm. This is nice. I'm not sure the length is flattering to most, I'd consider knocking off some of the length. But this is really nice as a layering piece for winter. It's knit with wool/alpaca blend so it's plenty warm. (And on a personal note, I covet the necklace. It looks knit. Totally cool.)




13. Cabled vest by Karen Garlinghouse. "Texture gravitates toward the gray scale, from slate to putty." What? That doesn't even make sense. If I were the designer I'd want to beat my head on a desk. Sizes, 35 to 43in/90 to 110cm. It's a hippy vest. I wish they'd quit publishing these things, because they're never flattering. (I almost did a hippy vest montage here, but reason prevailed. Plus I didn't want to add another hour to this review.) The model is wearing a belt and still looks like she has no waist. Not what I personally want to wear.




14. Modular vest by Lori Steinburg. Sizes, 36 to 42in/91 to 106cm. (We get into directional knitting, and the sizing starts dropping off dramatically.) This is potentially very cool. The stitch patterns all work together in a really clever way, to make all sorts of interesting textures. Here's what worries me, though: see how she's using her right hand to hang on to the bottom front hem? You can't see it well in this photo, but it's more obvious on Vogue 360 and in the magazine. I think the zipper was put in wrong. The front flares out, and the edgings along the front don't line up. The front join is also wavy and crooked without the model jerking it straight. So I wonder, if THEY can't get the zipper to work and they're THE PROFESSIONALS, how much of a pain in the ass would it be for me?


Next up, Twinkle. "Twinkle turns up the volume. Simple styling takes shape in voluptuous yarn." If this is style, I'll eat it.


15. Sleeveless vest with hood. By Twinkle. Sizes, 60 and 67in/and isn't this cute, two sizes in Imperial and only one size in metric, 171cm. Yuh huh. $152 USD to knit the smaller size (which apparently only comes in Imperial). The only thing I can think of when I look at this is BAGGY. Look at this:
See the pink/purple lines from shoulders down? Those are big folds of inch-thick fabric, flopping around on the model's chest. See the blue lines at the bottom hem? It doesn't even hang straight. The central edging with buttons sort of sucks up the fabric, then it bags out from there in all directions. See the red lines at the model's butt? That's more fabric, bagging out around her keester. I suppose this is all right for knocking around the house while trying to stay warm, but how in HELL is this fashion? Isn't fashion supposed to look at least remotely good? How is making a stick-thin model look like she's wearing a sack, fashion? (Don't tell me it's a bubble silhouette. Just don't. It's not a bubble, it's a bag.)




16. Cowl neck top, again by Twinkle. Sizes, 43 to 50in/109 to 128cm. $114 USD for size medium (the yarn is $19 per skein). Look at the model. JUST LOOK AT HER. And tell me anyone else would look any better? Over at Vogue 360 they were showing this one INSIDE OUT. Oh yes, they're professional and know how to dress us, all right. (They've since fixed it. Too bad; it was funny.)


Section next, "Boy Meets Purl". Interview with Josh Bennett about his design philosophy and background. He says he wants to design wearable clothes for men. A worthy goal. Thing is, most men don't like high fashion, and 'wearable for men' and 'Vogue' are kind of contradictory. At least to all the men I know.


17. Man's cable cardigan, by Josh Bennett. Sizes, 38 to 45in/96 to 114cm. Those sizes seem pretty small to me, but I know a lot of big, broad-chested men. The husbeast couldn't fit into the largest size, not remotely. This is a nice, comfy sweater. Bennett himself calls it a "Grandpa" sweater with a "homey, down-to-earth Mr. Rogers feel". He's not kidding.

Slap a zipper in there, and it's literally Mr. Rogers. Now I'm not criticizing comfort or homey (in fact I live by them), but how on earth is this high fashion? Seriously? Mr. Rogers? REALLY?




18. Striped hoodie, by Bennett. Sizes, 40 to 50in/103 to 127. Again to quote Bennett, this is "a casual, throw it on to go to Whole Foods feel". See above about high fashion and I don't get it. They're very careful in the magazine and on Vogue 360 to hide it, but the zipper's in crooked and the bottom stripes don't match up.




19. Men's vest by Bennett. Sizes, 34 to 50in/86 to 127cm. I'm trying to think if I know any males over the age of 14 who have 34 inch chests. Anyway. Anyway. Knit with a nice merino, and is a nice, if stereotypical men's sweater vest. Shaping is done by working stranded color flat, rather than steeking it. So the bottom half is knit in the round, and the top half is worked flat in sections. If you knit this, beware the huge gauge shift most people have between working in the round and working flat.


Section, ah, next, "Country Living". "Great style happens when pretty cardis take a weekend break." There are some gems in here; a girl can never have too many flattering cardigans. On the other hand... country living? Apparently no one in the art department has ever mucked out a barn, if they think this is country living.


20. Lace edge cardi by Coralie Meslin. Sizes from 36 to 54in/93 to 139cm. I really like the concept of this. The lace edge adds that all-important vertical line, and if you decide to leave the lace off, it's a solid design for a plain stockinette cardigan that could be dressed up with a scarf or fancy buttons. If you DO put the lace on, have a care; on the model, they've got the lace pinned or sewn down all the way up around the neck, where it has to curve about. Knitting the lace in a thinner yarn, on larger needles, would help with that.




21. Ruffled cardigan by Shirley Paden. Sizes, 37 and 43in/94 and 109cm. (Again, the lace complicates the re-sizing and size choice drops off steeply. Not that anyone, even smaller sizes, would look good in this. But still.) The husbeast took a look at this and said "Dude. That looks like rhumba pants gone wrong." Rhumba pants being these:

He knows about rhumba pants because he's got a little girl, and he considers them the most ridiculous garment ever invented. Anyway. Ruffles about the waist. We've had this discussion before, and the gist of it is, they're horribly unflattering. Look at the model. Two inches of bulk, all the way around her hips. NOT a good look. If I was hellbent on knitting this, I'd leave off the bottom two ruffles and work the waist fitting so that it, well, fits.




22. Fitted jacket by Jennie Atkinson. Sizes, 37 to 51in/95 to 103cm. Yup. That's what it is, a fitted jacket. The cables accentuating the waist would be flattering to just about everyone, and there's a little half-belt in the back (like on a men's vest) that could be worked to pull in and fine-tune the waist fitting. This is really nice. No idea why the stylist put that belt on it; all it does is obscure the shaping and make it hard to figure out.




23. Cabled yoke cardi by Amy Polcyn. Sizes, 34 to 38in/86 to 96cm. (Again with the complex pattern = almost no sizes.) This is a nice cardigan. The only thing wrong with it is, if you unbuttoned it, it'd fall off your shoulders. If you're okay with that, then it's fine. A note of caution: The cable in the yoke is knit sideways, then stitches are picked up on each side and knit in either direction. Considering this is a mohair yarn (not entirely mohair, but it's in there), picking up those stitches could be a real pain in the keester. Just saying. I'd also skip the ribbing in the body of the sweater. It's doing nothing to help fit and just looks strange.




24. Raglan cardigan by Tanis Gray. Sizes, 32 to 52in/81 to 132cm. Another nice little cropped cardigan. I'd consider leaving off the stylized front pockets, since they're not good for anything but adding bulk at your waist. But it's cute, it's flattering enough (no waist shaping, but it's easily added), and it's in a decent variety of sizes.




25. Wide rib cardigan, by Edna Hart. 36 to 50in/91 to 127cm. (There are only three sizes at seven inch/fifteen cm ish increments. Not necessarily flattering.) This is another time I feel sorry for the model. Good grief, that pose. She looks like a pregnant lady with a sore back. The cardigan is just what it says it is; a wide rib cardi. Not high fashion, but nothing wrong with it.


Next pattern, "Sculpted Glamour". Its a sort of mini workshop teaching short rows for shaping. I wonder why it's not in the front with the other techniques articles, but it's useful information.

26. Ribbed cardigan by Karola Gottwald. Sizes, 35 to 53in/90 to 135cm. There's not much (almost no) shaping to this thing, other than some extra fullness around the neckline. All shape comes from the body in it. So it's going to look magnificent on curvy, hourglass-figure women (like the one in the photo) and kind of hang on thinner, less-curvy women. (It hung like a sack on the girl in Vogue 360.) I'm half-assedly considering knitting this for myself. In something other than the recommended yarn; $155 USD to knit the medium size.


Next section, "All Wrapped Up". Guess what kinds of patterns? "As far as finishing touches go, the knit wrap stands shoulders above the average accessory." Yuh huh. This stuff is all nice enough, but as usual I'm failing to see the high fashion aspect.


27. Lace and texture scarf by Cathy Caron. Pretty sure it's not reversible. If that matters to you.




28. Lace wrap by Laura Bryant. Decidedly average lace wrap knit with Prism yarns in a way that it looks like it was knit with scraps out of the stash. $70 USD to knit this with the suggested yarns.




29. Wrap with belt by Shiri Mor. Odd construction on this; a back, like a sweater, with a scarf sewn to the shoulders of it and wrapped all around. Not sure why it then looks like a hippy vest. One size fits all, of course.




30. Infinity scarf by Amanda Blair Brown. This one pisses me off. It's a circular scarf, and those can be worn all kinds of different, USEFUL ways, wrapped around your head and neck to keep you warm without trailing on the ground. They don't show ANY of those ways, either here or on Vogue 360, they just plonk it around the model's neck and let it hang there. Big help on the styling. Idiots.


The last section isn't really a section. It's two mitten patterns that are in the front of the magazine with the techniques, yet they're numbered 31 and 32. This makes no sense to me. It also makes no sense to me how traditional Scandinavian mittens are anything but traditional; I fail to see any high fashion whatsoever. Mind you, they're nice mittens, look interesting, and will keep your hands warm. But, uh, fashion? Huh?


31. Snowball mittens, by Elinor Brown. "Give winter the thumb's up with luscious mitts that pair beautifully with your best winter coat." Oh geez. Anyway, they're nice mittens. Knit with cashmere, so I'm not sure how well they'll wear.




32. Tree mittens by Elli Stubenrauch. Nice. They're mittens. They'll keep your hands warm. Um. I like trees.


So there you go. A little better with sizes this time - I do think the bitching is getting through, condescending letters from the editor or not. Still looks like they stall at complex design, though. I wonder if part of the requirements for this issue was to keep the designs simple so they could be resized; all these patterns are fairly traditional in construction. No wild directional stuff. It'll be interesting to see what happens to sizing when the inevitable complicated knit shows up in their office, though.

Letter from the Editor, VK winter 2010

I was going to do the usual review of VK once I got it. Then I did get it, and flipping through, happened to read the letter from the editor in the front. The title of it, "Size Matters to Us" caught my eye, and by the time I was done reading... well. I debated for two days how to properly address the letter in the VK review proper, without making it a hundred thousand words long, and I couldn't come up with a way. So I'm doing what I did with the 25th Anniversary Edition (links in the sidebar) and splitting this review in half. Because really, I've got a lot to say about this letter, enough that I don't think it's fair to cram it into the review. Since this isn't really a review, but a reply to the letter.

The text of the letter can be found on the VK web site, here. I suggest everyone who really is into this bip over and read it first. I'm going to quote the relevant parts (I don't know how long that link will work, once a new issue comes out), but if you read the entire thing, that way there's no question of me taking things out of context. I'll try very hard to quote everything pertinent so there's no misunderstanding. So stuff in quotes is from the magazine, specifically, the letter. Further down there will be photos of past VK designs. I'll list what issue they came from, for clarity.

And, while I'm trying to be clear, I understand the designers just submit a pattern to VK and VK takes over the sizing from there. It's implied in the letter itself. So while I'm ranting and raving over the size issue, it's not directed at the designers. As I see it, they don't have much to do with it either. (Plus, VK treats their designers rather shittily, and they deserve some sympathy... I'm not sure why they continue to work for VK, but a pay check is a pay check, after all.)

So, the gist of the letter is, VK analyzes each design carefully when it gets to the VK offices, and from there, they decide what sizes are flattering to each figure, and size designs accordingly. Now, part of this is inarguable. Sure, different things look better on different people. That's nothing but common sense. But the implication here is that VK knows better than I do (or you do) what looks good on my body (or yours). Considering they've never MET me, I find it damn hard to believe that they can sit in their office on the lower west side of Manhattan and know what I'm going to look good in. There are a few other gems.

"That’s the beauty of being a woman, and being a unique individual with varied tastes, knitting preferences and personal style." Really. Then why, in the pages of VK, is every model a tiny-sized, low-body-fat, unusually tall and thin female? Why are they all made up to look the same? Because it's high fashion? Is there no woman on earth larger than a size six capable of being high fashion? Is fashion about being thin? Where's the beauty of being a unique individual, in the pages of the magazine?

"We discuss how a piece would look and fit a body if sized much larger or smaller, and how a wide range of sizes would affect pattern repeats, cabling, colorwork and shaping. We look at length of body and sleeves, shoulder shaping and whether it would allow for more ease, design details that might be lost or simply would not work. Not all garments will flatter if they are sized too large or too small. A petite person can be swamped by the wrong silhouette and often by chunky stitches, and, conversely, the wrong length can cut a larger body at the wrong point, not flattering it in the least." I'm quoting this whole block here, because as I said above, I don't want to take things out of context or confuse the issue. This, according to the editor, is their philosophy, what they're thinking, if you will, when they decide what they're going to size and how to size it. I'm quoting all this now, because I think it's complete bullshit. I think they size according to what's easy to resize. I don't think looking good (if you're over a size six) is on their radar. I think it's all about how complicated the pattern is. If it's too complex, I think they lack the talent, the resources, or the time (or all three?) to bother resizing it, and that's where all those super-small once-size-only patterns come from in the magazine.

"As professionals, we ask that you understand why we make our choices to size only certain silhouettes up or down." As professionals. Implied expertise; they know better than we do. Not only is it ridiculous, it's contradicted further down.

"We choose those we believe will work for the greater majority of our readers, so you don’t waste time (and money) knitting a garment you will not necessarily be happy with when you’re finished." They want to save us money. Sure. I might believe it if that $600 USD cashmere sweater wasn't fresh in my mind. You know, the one in plus sizes, that was big-butt length. (See below; I'll put up a photo to refresh everyone's memories.)

"However, you know your body and personal style better than we do, and there will be times when you wish we had sized our sweaters differently. For those times, there are many resources available to help you custom-size your project." Here's the internal contradiction: We're professionals, and we know better. But if you're so hell-bent on a sweater that fits, do our job for us and size it yourselves. They also suggest hitting up your local yarn store for help. I don't know about you, but my local yarn store doesn't carry VK. They've given up on it in disgust (and because no one bought it).

For those of you who've been reading leBlog for a while, you know I've got a freaky-good visual memory. Especially if I've gone to the trouble of reviewing something, and stared at the photo for a while; it sticks in my head. So while I was reading this letter to the editor, there was this cascade of VK designs rolling through my mind. And since I started listing sizes in the past year's reviews, I even knew what sizes most of them came in. Here are some of the highlights of my brain montage.

They want to save us money, and keep us from knitting things we're unhappy with?

#16, Holiday 2009 VK. It's cashmere, and the largest size, a 54in/137cm bust, would cost $615 to knit. (Or did when I figured the cost when I did the review; prices may be going up.) I'm not sure anyone would look good in this without altering it a bit, because the length of it hangs down over the butt and adds bulk to it. Most of us don't need bulky butts.



#11, Spring/Summer 2009. $60 just for the feathers. (At last summer's exchange rate; the yarn was available from only one place in the UK.) Sizes only to a 40in/103cm bust, but considering the vest is a box with arm holes, I don't see how it's flattering to anyone.

But they want to save us money so we don't spend a lot and are unhappy with it later. Yeah.

"A petite person can be swamped by the wrong silhouette and often by chunky stitches, and, conversely, the wrong length can cut a larger body at the wrong point, not flattering it in the least." Really? Do you think? Then why do you keep publishing things like this?


#22 holiday 2008. Do you think she looks swamped in chunky stitches? I think she looks swamped in chunky stitches. I thought this was their great concern, what they were saving us from? Then why is it here? Oh, is it because there is a Designer Name on it? Which is it? Are they saving us, or not?



#18, Winter 2009. Bust sizes to 44in/111cm. Would anyone look good in this? Petite, plus size, my grandma? Anyone?



#4, Winter 2009. This would only look good on very slim body types. So why, then, is it available in a 50in/127cm bust?



#18, Holiday 2009. This is a nice lace pullover. There's a vertical line to it, which is flattering to just about everyone, and the design itself is fairly square and blocky, meaning it lends itself to a lot of sizes. Why do sizes only go from 29in/73cm to 40in/101cm? I've got a friend with F cup breasts who is at least a sixty inch bust, who would look good in that. Why wasn't it sized more broadly?



#15 Spring/Summer 2008. Is that a flattering length for ANYONE?


Know what I think? I think what I've always thought. That they don't really give much of a shit about true plus sizes (anyone up past a 56in/142cm bust). All those patterns that come in only one size? They're always complicated. I think they get complex patterns at the VK office and no one wants to re-size them, so they don't.


#3, spring/summer 2009. One size, 31in/78cm bust. You telling me NO ONE ELSE even slightly larger would look good in that? Or is it possible that because it's a complex, directional knit, no one felt like resizing it?


#19, spring/summer 2008. One size only. You telling me plus sizes don't look good in shrugs? I'm not sure shrugs look good on anyone, but they look as good on plus sizes as anyone else. Maybe it was just too complicated to resize?


#20, spring/summer 2008. Piece of major directional knitting. It would look good on a wide range of body types, thanks to the very delineated waist, but it's available in only one size, a 34in/86cm bust. I'm betting that's the size that showed up in the VK office and they printed it as-is.

Bottom line? I think the editor's trying to sell us a load of shit. Which isn't really shocking, we've been kind of saying that for years, but this letter from the editor is really, blatantly, shockingly obvious about it. On a personal level I find it extremely offensive, the claim that they know what's flattering better than we do - and then produce an overwhelming majority of small sizes. The implication is that plus sizes don't get/need/deserve flattering clothing. If they did a more equitable range of sizes, I might buy the claim. But as it is? It sounds like more fashion industry Thin Is Beautiful propaganda.

This may be the one that puts me over the top. I'm wondering if the library gets Vogue Knitting, because I think that's the only way I'm continuing these reviews. I'm too sickened to give them any more of my money.

Curiouser and curiouser...

What is this?

Could it be... A GAUGE SWATCH? Why, I think it is!

(The quad-zero doily isn't happening until I get some more practical stuff done... sorry. But it is On The List.) Bells, this is some of the Bendigo you sent me, ages ago. It's going for a good cause.

My little old lady.

Back in December of 2000, when we were living in Honolulu, we found a dusty, half-grown gray tabby cat in our back yard. She didn't have a tag, looked half-starved, and lonely. When I opened the back door, she walked right in like she belonged there.

And so we adopted Sekhmet. Or rather, she adopted us.

She's been remarkably healthy, and has remained lively all these years; just last night she was smacking the Goober's toys around the living room, chasing them and leaping on them. But I just can't ignore that time passes, and my little half-grown kitty has become a fifteen pound asskicker who has been moved seven thousand miles, put up with a new baby sticking fingers in her ears, and now, living in a climate that is worlds away from the one she grew up in, in Hawaii. At eleven years old, she can't be enjoying the cold weather.

This morning, I knew she was REALLY cold. How? After the husbeast got out of the shower, she jumped in. I'm betting the tub was warm on her cold little toes.

So long as she's got a blanket, and I let her lay on me when she needs to warm up, she seems to be weathering things fairly well. But I keep thinking of that little kitty in my Hawaiian back yard, and I want to knit her a sweater. (I would if I thought she'd wear it.)

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In other news, well, there is no other news. Just hanging around, existing for a while. I've had enough excitement. We went to the book store today, and there on the shelf was the new Vogue Knitting. So that review is coming up soon. (I also got the new Spin-off, which I'm sure I'll enjoy more. It's an Interweave publication, yanno.)

On the way to the book store, well, see, I've found a couple oldies radio stations in Pittsburgh. The one that was on the radio started playing "You're the One that I Want" from Grease, and did I mention my parents raised me on show tunes and Beach Boys songs? Plus, I had a friend in high school who used to joke about becoming a backup singer, and got me singing backup along with the radio. So today when the Grease song came on, I started on the backup vocals. By the time the song was over, the Goober and I were both singing "Oo, oo oo, honey!" and the husbeast was shaking his head and muttering.

VK and backup vocals all in one day. I was busy.

Goals.

I've never gone for the "New Year's Resolution" sort of thing, but a few goals are always in order. Regardless what day of the year it is. So, for the coming year, some stuff I'd like to accomplish:

-Getting back to school would be awesome. The Goober starts kindergarten in the fall, so it's not totally out of the realm of reality, at least to get back part time. So. Possible.

That's the ticket, goals I might achieve. I'm the queen of unreachable goals, but this time around I'd like to shoot for reality.

-Enjoy the knitting more, stress myself out less. Which means, ha, setting fewer goals. A goal of setting fewer goals. I crack myself up.

-Survive the house-buying and last move, with, well, if not grace, than at least without going totally bonkers. Or trashing my back again.

-Either get the new pain specialist straightened out (big issue: he needs to listen to me rather than diagnose me with things I've never had symptoms of). If I can't get him straightened out, then fire him and find someone who DOES listen. This one should be relatively easy, just stressful. Y'all may have noticed medical types tend to make me crazy. Okay. Crazier.

Over the last week, I've had a bad case of start-itis, with quite a few projects about half done, laying around. (Like that never happens.) Over on Twitter, Bells and Terby have been egging me on for the last couple days, after I mentioned having the urge to knit a doily. Terby dared me to do it on triple zeros. I've only got quad zeros with me. So. Well. I'm gonna go look at my Niebling patterns.

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For now, we're watching cartoons in our warm (if small) apartment, well-fed and relatively healthy and in good spirit. There are husbeast and Goober cuddles happening, the cat is snoring in her blankie, and I got half the laundry done today.

It could be a hell of a lot worse.