Mitten swatch agreed by all. That intangible Yamamoto weight to the stitch is achieved. Time to measure wrist, calculate numbers of stitches, and consider depth of ribbing.

Ribbing is like a good picture frame. Not only does it contain, hold in place, pull into shape, but it balances the whole. It sets a tone. You can either go traditional or contemporary with ribbing. There’s a fine line. Length and breadth are neither here nor there. The ribbing informs what you have chosen to do with the body of the garment, and vice versa.

Imagine da Vinci’s Mona Lisa surrounded by her Renaissance golden curlicues framing that sly smile. Now imagine her with a plain, patent black frame. What different stories that would tell. You get the picture.

I settle for a narrow ribbing, equal length, at both ends of the mitten. Needles crossed it works out. That’s part of the fun of knitting your own recipes. Worst case scenario, and I can always undo.

I am undone by too short a length to the mitten. But with a little help from the obsessive knitter, who picks up my lost stitches, all is saved. And I get a good ribbing.

BDW

I’m on the other side of the world from my adopted home, on holiday, spending time with my mother and brother. I’m watching my mother knit my 1940s t-shirt.

Me, monsieur demanding Dauphin, the anointed one in the corner on the chaise longue. Drinking cups of hot elderflower cordial made for me by brother, eating homemade chocolate biscuits made by mother (in between rows), considering my navel.

Does guilt seep in the corners? Is it time to get knitting again, after a long time away from the needles? Me thinks so.

Inspiration comes through necessity. A cold, wet winter full of southern winds. Samples of the obsessive knitter’s fingerless gloves are tried on and wholeheartedly approved of. The perfect present to take home to the partner in the UK.

Time to choose wools. The end result must be more Yamamoto than Topshop. This means a faint sheen to the fine wool (although too shiny and you veer towards luxe, and that is not the desired effect), with a density and weight to the texture. We find a mixture of 70% merino, 25% silk and 5% cashmere in 4-ply black. Just the look we’re after.

And now to swatch.

BDW

I found a wonderful second-hand 1940s knitting pattern book, a get well present for my mother, the obsessive knitter, after a hard and debilitating illness. I know she loves old knitting recipes, especially ones from the 1940s, and the book delivered handsomely. Too handsomely.

Within these soon-to-be-coveted pages I found the best looking t-shirt I have seen in a long, long time. Knitted! Texture! Simplicity of shape! The open, generous neckline. Sleeves to the elbow, just so. Very Margaret Howell in the honesty of silhouette, perfectly embodying the ethos of workmen’s clothing of yore. I was hooked. I wanted.

Did it seem mean-spirited to send a get well book to a recuperating mother with a note inside reading ‘I really, REALLY like the pattern on pages xx. Please knit me.’? Probably. Was it selfish? Most likely. Do I really, really want that t-shirt? You betcha.

BDW

Knitting is a strange and intriguing pastime that, it seems to me, centres around clarity.

Clarity of the mind (knitting is an amazingly peaceful and restorative pastime). Clarity of one’s intentions (do I wish to finish this project with a hat or a scarf?). The clarity gained from following a recipe (pattern to you uninitiated knitting fiends), either your own or someone else’s, from A to Z without skipping a stitch. Clarity of one’s thoughts, in other words.

The act of knitting also clarifies one’s creativity. Not only what you want to end up with, but how did you come to this? How will you get there? What will your reaction be, or that of the intended recipient, to your carefully chosen stitches? Where will this creative journey take you?

The world of the obsessive knitter is rich with exciting possibilities. BDW

I have a friend whose fingers become cold and achey when using her computer. If she used the computer only now and then this would not be a problem, but she uses it daily for hours, so a solution is required. She could wear gloves but they slip and slide on the keys and cause mistakes in the text. She says it is the wrist and arm area that most needs to be kept warm. Mmmmm, fingerless gloves could be a solution. They are useful in any situation where you want your fingers free while your hands, wrists and arms are snug and warm.

First, choose the look, weight and feel of the yarn for the effect you want. I’ve trialed them in wispy kid silk, laceweight merino, silk and cashmere 2ply, camelhair, baby wool, merino and nylon 4-ply sockwool and 8-ply alpaca and merino. All are suitable, all are lovely in their own way. Each has a different look and feel.

Use fine needles with fine yarn and be guided by the suggestion on the wool band; I say guided because your swatch will have the final say. Take the time to knit a swatch. Count the number of stitches per 10cm square. Measure round your hand just below where the fingers join the palm. This will give you an idea of the measurement of the fabric you will need to knit.

Here’s the simplest pattern possible for a plain fingerless glove using two, four or circular needles – choose the needles you are most comfortable with. You will want to explore different needles, patterns and effects when the basic pattern and technique feels comfortable.

As a guide, for a medium size glove for a hand measuring 18cm around the top of the palm where the fingers begin, and 18 cm long, you will need approximately 125metres of 4-ply yarn. Check on the wool band for the length of yarn in the ball. If you want the glove to go further up the arm then you will require more yarn.

You will need two sets of needles, e.g. 3mm for the ribbing and 4mm for the body of the fabric.

On the finer needles cast on stitches. Rib for 2 cm, change to the thicker needles and knit in stocking stitch for 14 cm. Finish with 2 cm of ribbing on size 3mm needles. Cast off.
Stitch the side seam leaving a 4 cm space for the thumb about 11 cm from the wrist.

MBW