The view from Sleeve Island

This is why I so often knit short-sleeved sweaters: they do not require any sort of extended stay on Sleeve Island. If you're not a knitter, you should know that Sleeve Island is the mostly imaginary and frequently-visited place where we knitters go when we are elbow deep in sleeve knitting (see what I did there?). It's barren and lonely, and, in my case, very gray. You see, sleeves are wide and they are long; they are time consuming and they come in pairs. They make you think that they are just narrow tubes of fabric that will take no time to make. After all, you've already completed the front and back of the sweater, so most of your body is already covered at this point. The sleeves are basically afterthoughts, right? Wrong. Always so wrong. Sleeves are deceptive. Sleeves are cruel. They start narrow for the cuff and just get wider and wider. And then you have to make a second one.

Fortunately, for the 1900s knitter, designers were a little more sensible about sleeves. In the case of my Ladies' Outing Coat, the sleeve pattern starts at the top and decreases down to the cuff. This not only makes for a more pleasant stay on Sleeve Island, but also seems to offer more options for ensuring that the sleeve is the proper length. You can try it on as you knit and, if it ultimately ends up the wrong length, it's much easier to rip out a cast-off row and add or subtract length than it is to fiddle around with the cast-on row and do the same. With that said, though, I am trying to power my way through this first sleeve. It's still slow going, but, once it's done, I'll attach the sleeve and seam up half the sweater and see how things are fitting so far.

In the meantime, I've been thinking more about 1900s fashion. My 1907 pattern book is full of patterns for women on the go: they are fishing, riding horses, studying, traveling in automobiles, golfing, and sailing. It's fabulous.

Cable-stitch Sweater from The Columbia Book of Yarns, 1907

Columbia Knitted Blouse Jacket from The Columbia Book of Yarns, 1907

The S-curve silhouette and attendant smooth, puffed-out breast are still very present, but I think these designs express a nascent shift in womenswear, one that would allow for more comfort and freedom of movement, especially as increasing numbers of women took up hobbies like cycling and lawn sports. This era was one of great change in women's undergarments, too, as heavily-structured corsets gradually gave way to brassieres and lighter-weight corsets. There's a fascinating read on the Victoria and Albert Museum's website about the evolution of corsets in the early 20th century. I love that knitwear seemed to be able to offer women this greater ease of movement while also keeping up with contemporary trends in fashion designs and silhouettes.

In related news, I acquired a few new-to-me vintage pattern books over the weekend and am pretty sure I have my 1980s sweater picked out. I love it. But no spoilers for you.