A couple of weeks ago, I was doing my normal Saturday morning activities. That meant drinking coffee and watching Knitting Daily TV. A designer was talking about one of her designs and happened to mention that it covered all kinds of flaws. My ears perked up. Flaws? What right do you have to tell people they might have physical flaws?
At first, my ire caught me off-guard, though I’m not sure why. Words are my business, and I pay close attention to how they’re used. But even I had to admit that my reaction was somewhat more intense than usual, even for me. I chalked it up to being up to watch Knitting Daily TV after only 3 hours of sleep. Maybe it was stress, as I was working on an extremely difficult manuscript at the time. In other words, I tried to block my reaction from my mind.
Need I say that it didn’t work? Nope. It seemed the more I tried to keep it out of my mind, the more it surfaced. I had to face it: I had a problem with the designer’s use of the word “flaw.” Of course I knew what she meant; I’ve used it in that context many times. But is it the right word? Is it the word we should use when talking about something that might cause us some fitting problems?
Sometimes we purchase items that are flawed; in retail terminology, they’re often marked “imperfect” or that they have “imperfections.” “Factory seconds” are also a term used to describe such items. Whatever you call them, it means that they are not perfect; there are characteristics about the product that would prevent most consumers from selecting them. So why do we buy them? Sometimes the imperfection is not visible to the naked eye, such as a small occlusion in a gemstone. Perhaps it’s in an area that won’t show. But most of all, these items are often at a reduced price from their more-prized counterparts.
So, when we say we have flaws, what does that tell us about us? Some might say that it means we’re being honest. Okay, perhaps so, but there are other words that can be used to describe something about ourselves of which we’re less than fond. To me, it seems as though we are equating ourselves–at least part of ourselves–with items of lesser value than their counterparts. I don’t know about you, but the fact that I have big thighs does not make me any less valuable to the world than someone with smaller thighs. In turn, my thigh size makes me no more valuable than someone who might have thighs larger than I. An individual’s value should not be assessed based on a physical characteristic.
Oh, I know: “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” But my response: Pshaw. Of course words hurt. Ask anyone who has endured the sharp words of a loved one. Yes, I know that words can harm us only if we let them. But, when you have a culture that turns basically innocuous words into pejorative ones, we should do what we can to not add to that culture. One way to do that is to not use them to describe ourselves. And, of course, not using them to describe others. So what words should you use? Well, I’m personally fond of “issues,” but I’m not sure that’s much better. Frankly, I don’t know what’s wrong with saying, “It covers your hips.” Let the listener decide whether he or she wants that area covered.
Congratulations, Carla Bell
the winner of Designer Discovery





This will be a pair of mittens or fingerless mitts; it depends on my attention span. The yarn is the No Man’s Land colorway, one of 
This is Ruca Multy from Araucania Yarns. It’s 100% sugar cane from Italy. I think I bought it originally for a lace shawl, which, for some reason, never got made. It’s incredibly soft, but it does seem to be a bit splitty. Anyway, it’s going to become a Clapotis. Now to come up with 18 stitch markers.

Action Against Hunger
Doctors Without Borders
Knitters without Borders
Lynne Cohen Foundation for Ovarian Cancer Research
Ovarian Cancer National Alliance
Reconverted? It’s About the Socks
For a long time, I thought my sock knitting mojo had vanished for good. In its place were patterns after patterns for mittens and fingerless mittens–not to mention my fingerless mitts with thumb cozy. But, I’m happy to say that my sock mojo has returned. To prove it, take a gander at this:
This is the Manhattan sock by Lisa Dykstra. If you’d like to expand beyond the vanilla sock but find some of the patterns daunting, give this one a try. It’s a 4-row repeat and very easy to memorize.
I did make a couple of changes to the pattern. As you can tell, I did not extend the pattern to the top of the foot. It had nothing to do with the pattern. I just prefer not to have patterns on the top of my foot. It’s a fit issue. Another thing I did regarded the toe. Instead of grafting, I did a 3-needle bind-off, using a needle 1 size smaller than what I used for the sock. Come on, now, get your jaws off the floor. It’s comfortable, isn’t distracting, and I hope it will add to the durability of the sock.
Those who know me may find it odd that I knitted a cuff-down sock. It has been a long time since I have. That’s how I learned to knit socks, but I always found the whole heel/gusset thing frustrating. Oh, I could do it, but it wasn’t fun. And they never seemed to look “right.” Well, I found Magic Loop and a pattern for toe-up socks, and I was hooked. I still have problems picking up wraps on W&Ts, but I found a heel pattern that didn’t require me to do that. So, I converted to toe-ups.
I may be reconverting. When I started the Manhattan socks, I was concerned about the whole cuff-down/toe-up thing. But, I was knitting them to support Lisa, so I was happy to take a stab at them. It’s not as though I’d never done cuff-down after all. Well, I got down to the heel–and let the sock languish on the needles for a while. Then, after seeing all the pics of finished Manhattans on Plurk, I decided it was time to put on my big girl pants and just do it. Imagine my surprise when I got through the heel and gusset with absolutely no problems. Of course the pattern was written clearly and well–which is a huge advantage to knitters. But it was more than that. It was like when I tried to learn Magic Loop. At first, it made no sense. So, being not the patient kind, I switched to 2 circs. Now that made sense. I decided to give Magic Loop another try, and voila, everything made sense. That’s how it was with the Manhattans. Everything made sense. I think a big part is that I now have a better understanding of sock construction in general.
I’m not going to exclude toe-ups from my sock knitting repertoire. But, I no longer feel as though I am limited to only those patterns. I hope anyone who finds him- or herself stymied by a particular technique will keep going. Sometimes it helps to learn another method first and then return to the more problematic one.
Check Out These Sock Books
It’s obvious that there’s no end in sight to the popularity of sock knitting. One only has to take a look at the number of new sock books that have hit the marketplace or will do so soon. Here are two.
Sock Club: Join the Knitting Adventure, by Charlene Schurch and Beth Parrott
Sock clubs are big in the knitting world. In fact, getting into some of them borders on cutthroat. In Sock Club (Martingale & Company, 2010), the authors share patterns that have been created for many sock clubs. There are projects for all interests–from a more basic sock to Gothic Temptress, an homage to such icons as Elvira, Morticia Addams, and Vampira by Janine Le Cras. You’ll find patterns for cables, lace, and slipped stitch projects.
In addition to Janine Le Cras, other designers include Judy Alexander, Lisa Dykstra, Adrienne Fong, Anne Hanson, and Ellie Putz.
Besides featuring very doable projects, Sock Club includes methods those of us who don’t have feet or ankles that readily accommodate most patterns can use to adjust the project to fit comfortably. The adjustments do not compromise the integrity of the artist’s original design, which is important to all of us who support designers and the design process.
The patterns are well written and easy to follow. Although most are marked as being for experienced knitters, I’ve no doubt that less-experienced knitters would achieve excellent results.
The book’s technique section is well done; it is clearly written, and the instructions are easy to follow. Knitters will find a variety of cast-on and cast-off techinques included. There’s also a foot measurement chart that will be handy for those knitting socks for friends and family members whose feet are readily available for measurement.
Sock Club: Join the Knitting Adventure is a nice addition to a knitting library.
Toe-Up Socks for Every Body, by Wendy D. Johnson
It’s probably a safe bet to say that 95% of those in the sock knitting world are familiar with the designs of Wendy Johnson (the other 5% probably don’t have computers). Wendy has now come out with her second book of sock patterns: Toe-Up Socks for Every Body (Potter Craft, 2010). The book features patterns for lace, cable, and colorwork socks.
And for those interested in designing their own toe-up projects, Wendy includes suggestions on how to do so.
Each technique is treated almost like a separate book. The sections begin with a brief intro, including a listing of the patterns and project difficulty. Within the section are tips that pertain to that technique.
The patterns are well written and easy to follow. Although patterns for lace and cable socks can be found in almost any pattern book, Wendy does an excellent job of including colorwork projects. Many of the colorwork patterns may look complicated (and, admittedly, some are), but her instructions are clearly written and easy to follow–especially after one reads the colorwork techniqes section.
Toe-Up Socks for Every Body also includes an appendix of needle techniques, including cast-ons and cast-offs. There’s also an explanation of the 3 types of heels Wendy uses for the patterns in this book.
If you’re a Wendy Johnson fan, or a sock fan, you’ll want to consider adding her latest to your knitting library.