Mohair, No Problem

I have completed my little puffy cloud of mohair! It's as light as air and surprisingly warm, despite being a fairly loose gauge. Gotta let that fiber halo bloom.

As a refresher, this is my 1960s project from the 1962 Mohair Hand Knits booklet published by Bear Brand/Fleisher Yarns.

This is the first time I've knit an entire project solely out of mohair and it was rather delightful. The particular mohair I used was a bit of a mystery. It came as a bag of three balls from GreaterGood.com (a gift from a coworker) with minimal label information, but it turned out to be rather magical as the entire sweater took 1.15 balls. I just kept pulling and pulling and the ball seemed to take forever to get smaller.

The knitting itself was extremely straightforward as this is knit from the lower back edge up over the shoulders, with built-in increases for the sleeves. The sleeve cuffs are picked up, knit on, and folded over and then the collar is knit separately and sewn in place. The only other seaming is along the sides, so it's pretty quick to finish. Because mohair can be so sticky and fluffy, I definitely recommend using a smooth yarn for seaming. I had some neutral sock yarn that worked beautifully. 

I stuck close to the original pattern measurements and achieved the very cropped jacket look shown on the model. I probably wouldn't wear this with pants, but it's ideal over a dress (as it's styled in the pattern booklet) and makes for a very cozy layer. We took these pictures on a warm September day and I quickly got too hot in the sun! It would be perfect for an evening outside or as a way to winterize a summery dress.

Before I committed to this yarn, I knit a swatch (of course) and tried it out against my skin to make sure it wouldn't feel too itchy. It's not the softest mohair I've encountered, but it felt fine in the swatch and, now, as a complete sweater.

All in all, this was a great summer knit: lightweight, easy, and fairly quick. Plus, I had perfect buttons in my stash!

Specs

Yarn: GreaterGood.com Mohair Wool Yarn

Amounts: 1.15 balls (115 grams/660 yards)

Needles: size 4 and 5

Started: 8 June 2019

Finished: 15 September 2019

Finally ready

I think I'm finally ready to start thinking about my next decade: the 1960s.

After the 1950s dress ordeal, I had to take a little break. I was thrilled to finish the dress and delighted with the outcome, but...whew...did it ever sap my knitting energy. I made a few smallish things over the winter and early spring: an extremely ugly pair of socks (not pictured...never to be pictured), a cute sweater for my cute nephew, a start on a sweater for Sam, and the most utterly satisfying Fair Isle hat. Finishing the hat in four days, after watching the colors build and play against one another and constantly thinking "just one more round," made me miss knitting it after it was done, which in turn helped to renew my creative spark.

And so today, I found myself with an idle hour or two and decided to page through a pile of duplicate pattern books that I'd separated from my collection with the idea that I might find someone else who wanted them. There's quite a few 1960s booklets in that pile. One is focused on Aran knits, one is for kids, one is an instructional booklet, and one is full of "Mohair Hand Knits."

The booklet was published by Bernhard Ulmann in 1962 and is clearly designed to be a vehicle for Fleisher's or Bear Brand Supra Mohair. Some patterns call for this yarn to be held double with a conventional sheep's wool, while others use only mohair. The cover design intrigued me, especially the model on the left with the oversized cables and collar. I kind of like it, though it's a little chunky for my personal taste. It's definitely wearable today. The red-on-pink sweater on the right is maybe a little less timeless, especially with that super close 1960s neckline, but the bold color choice is certainly eye-catching (maybe also eye-watering). Inside, there are a few more cardigans, a men's pullover, a hoodie, a matching shell and skirt, a jacket, a dress, and a massive, oversized, full-length, buttoned housecoat/dress/jacket combo thingy with pockets. In pink mohair and bulky wool. Really. It's wild.

Apologies for the blurry photo. My camera clearly couldn't handle the combination of the hot pink dress against my red couch. Pink and red again just like the cover. It's a theme.

I'm certainly not going to make that. Nor am I going to tackle another dress (plus, I already have a mohair dress of the full-body variety). But then I came across this design on the left below. That's something I could see working with my wardrobe. It would be good for work. It's fairly low commitment with the short sleeves and cropped length. It's knit in one piece from the back up over the shoulders. Plus, I remembered that I have six balls of pure mohair in my stash, just waiting for a classic 1960s mohair project like this. It seemed like it was meant to be.

I have three balls of black and three balls of white mohair. It's a bit of a mystery yarn as there's no suggested gauge or other information on the label. It feels a little thin compared to other mohairs in my collection, which, admittedly, is not many. The gauge for the pattern is 5 stitches per inch. Since it's mohair, it's a fairly loose knit to allow the yarn to bloom. I'll play around with my yarn to see what might work. I appear to have plenty of yarn (there's 570 yards in each ball), so I'll certainly experiment with holding two stands together as I have a sneaking suspicion that my mohair is lighter than the Supra Mohair specified in the pattern. I could even try one strand of black and one strand of white, which might be kind of cool. We'll see. 

It all seems like a no-brainer, surely. I like the pattern, I have the yarn. I'm not crazy to contemplate knitting a 100% mohair garment as we head into summer...right?

Accepting the torch

Most of my friends and family members know that I collect old knitting patterns and they keep a good eye out for me. One time, a friend found a stack of 1930s and '40s booklets out with the recycling on a sidewalk and grabbed them for me. There were some gems in that stash for sure (more on that little collection when we get to my next project), including a single solitary cover of a fabulous Vogue Knitting magazine from the 1950s. Just the cover though. It was such a disappointment to discover that there were no pages attached.

A few weeks ago, another friend alerted me to a "free for the taking" ad on Craigslist promising a stack of 1950s and '60s Vogue Knitting mags, among other vintage booklets. Of course, this meant that I might be able to expand my Vogue Knitting collection beyond just the cover page that I then had in my stash. I saw that the ad had been listed for several weeks, panicked slightly, thinking that naturally someone else would have claimed the lot in the meantime (in my mind, of course, there's hot competition for old instruction booklets), and emailed the poster immediately. I sent along a link to my blog, explained the project, and hoped that I might be able to take home the mags. She wrote back right away and said that I could have them, adding that her mother would have thought the project a great idea.

That little comment was meaningful to me and clued me in to a couple of things. This wasn't an ad posted by someone looking to get rid of a few things that had randomly turned up in the attic. These books belonged to someone in particular. That someone was a knitter and these formed part of her stash. And knitters' stashes are personal. These points became even more clear when I met the poster, who described her mother to me as a "fearless knitter," someone who had traveled the world, become an accomplished artist, and knit dozens of garments for herself and her family. She showed me to the promised stack of knitting magazines and invited me to take a peek at them and several others that were not included in the original listing, including a long run of the Italian needlework magazine Rakam. There were bags of yarn on offer, too, and a sweet painted wooden lady (a wall hanging) with jointed arms and legs and a mini knitted swatch in her hands.

The stack.

It was great fun to look through everything and I ended up with a stack of booklets and magazines, one bag of wool, and the little wooden lady, who will be cute hanging up near my knitting supplies. At the same time, it was lovely to be able to learn about this other knitter and, figuratively speaking, take up her knitting needles.

I always feel this way when part of someone else's stash is added to my own. Joining their magazines or yarn to mine brings with it a sense of responsibility. I feel inspired to honor their creativity and curiosity. Passing the torch in this way keeps the craft alive and vibrant, keeps its roots visible, maintains my connection to generations of knitters going back over the years. Of course, it's easy to feel this way when I pick up a pattern book that belonged to my grandmother, but I feel it, too, when I knit with yarn that belonged to a friend of a friend who has passed away or when I take a look at some of these fabulous mid-century suits and dresses in my "new" Vogues and wonder if their previous owner ever made one.

Incidentally, it turns out that she did indeed make dresses and other similarly impressive feats of knitting. I was lucky enough to be able to take one of these incredible garments home. And it even fits! It is a truly fabulous full-length, high-necked, long-sleeve Fair Isle dress made of the gauziest mohair in luminescent greens and blues. It is incredible. It is all hand made. And it is super warm. I love it. There is just so much knitting and care and work in it. My apologies for the slightly blurry photo; I'd like to think that part of it is due to the halo of the mohair, but it's more certainly due to the fact that I am standing on tiptoes to show the full length of the skirt. Without my shoes on, I'm just a little too short!

I'll have details soon on my next knit from the 1940s. And hopefully some preview pictures of possible 1950s projects from my new Vogue Knitting magazine.

Rainy day project

I received a major addition to my vintage pattern collection today! My great aunt gave me a big box full of her knitting patterns, ranging from the 1950s through the 1990s. This is the most meticulously kept collection of patterns I've seen: each booklet is in pristine condition and even her collection of mail-order pamphlets remains in its original envelopes. There are so many fabulous patterns here. I've really only just started to look through the collection, but I did pick out a few of my favorite images and looks to share!

These are pretty spectacular knit go-go dresses from the late 1960s:

And some matching duds for the men:

 

I adore this plaid skirt, but can't help focusing on that poor cat's facial expression. He looks like he's about to bolt from the humiliation of modeling.

Superb modern home decor in knitting and crochet:

 

And some...unusual...1960s hats! There are lots of beads and sequins in this book.

 I'll be sure to share more as I explore the collection. Meanwhile, I've got yarn to start my 1919 Goldie Golf Sweater and will be casting on soon.