I am almost there! Only fourteen hundred forty nine words left until I hit 50,000 words! At this point, that’s not very many. Of course, I’ve got less than an hour and a half until midnight, so I need to crank these words out pretty fast.
I realize that I never did write that post about lace knitting versus lace yarns, so I guess I’ll get to that here! I love lace. But when I say that, I mean that I love lace knitting. I also love lace yarns, too, because they’re very delicate, and they really make lace knitting bloom in a way that other weights of yarns just don’t quite get to (except for fingering, which gets really close).
Yarn comes in different weights. From the lightest weight to the heaviest weight, there’s Lace, Fingering, Sport, DK, Worsted, Aran, Bulky, and Super Bulky. Sometimes Sport and DK are sort of lumped together, and sometimes (a lot of the time) Worsted and Aran are lumped (I almost typed “knitted” right there, haha) together as a class too. It’s a subtle difference. It’s not a difference that means much to me, so I don’t really care about the distinction. My main groups are Lace, Fingering, Sport & DK, Worsted, and everything heavier than worsted (which I really don’t work with very often, if at all).
Lace weight is roughly half of fingering weight, which in turn is roughly half of DK weight. If you use the ply system as a measurement of thickness, lace is 2-ply, fingering is 4-ply, DK is 8-ply, and Worsted is 10-ply. (Ply is also the name for each individual strand which makes up the yarn, so it’s an imperfect term which, surprise!, is used for a number of things. The English language is so precise, as always.)
Anyway, lace knitting is a technique. It can be worked with any weight of yarn. It’s definitely not exclusive to lace weight yarn, but lace weight yarn is probably the most common weight of yarn used. Fingering weight comes next in terms of most commonly used for lace.
Lace knitting involves open stitches. This is accomplished by incorporating eyelets — which are decorative increases, which create a hole in the knitted fabric. By patterning these holes together so that they become “eyelets” (a form of decoration) rather than “holes” (a form of mistake), the fabric becomes lace.
However, if you were to only include increases, the fabric would get wider and wider, eventually spinning (ha, no pun intended) out of control. So, in lace knitting, decorative increases are often paired with decreases, to control the number of stitches. This is especially useful if you’re creating a shawl in the shape of a rectangle (where you cast on one side and knit across from it until you’ve made it as wide as you want it).
It can also let you form a shape by controlling where the increases happen — for instance, to create the point of a triangle, by pairing two increases in the center and one increase on each side. By repeating this every other row, it forms a triangle by “pushing” the center of the fabric out and down, thus creating a triangle. You can, similarly, form a square by doubling that and working in the round. (You can also form a circle, but that can be somewhat problematic — you can create a shape that blocks into a circle but is really a very many sided polygon, or you can create a circle by knitting a “pi” shawl, and doing ringed increases on certain rows as you knit out into the circle.)
The most common shapes for shawls are rectangles (often referred to as stoles) and triangles. Less common, but still readily available are squares, half circles, and circles.
I go back and forth between preferring to wear rectangles and triangles. The key with wearing triangles is to figure out how to drape it across your shoulders and arms so that you don’t look prematurely elderly (no offense) by how you wear it. I think I’ve finally got that figured out, so I’m feeling more ready to take advantage of some of the gorgeous patterns that are available for triangle shaped shawls.
Anyway, controlling the increases and decreases not only can control the shape of the finished garment, but it can also control the shape of the internal pattern — by pairing increases and decreases, you can create leaves, shells, waves, feathers, snowflakes… The world is open. The available room for creativity in a lace setting is fairly boundless, especially when looking to the natural world for inspiration.
And, yet, you don’t have to look at nature for inspiration for a lace project. The lace tunic sweater Abotanicity in Knitty from a couple of years ago is lace, knit in fingering weight yarn, that doesn’t take any inspiration from leaves or nature. And the lace pattern in it is gorgeous.
Lace knitting goes very well with beads in it, also. The beads create points of interest that can be used to highlight certain parts of the lace pattern.
Estonian lace stitches often include nupps, which are sort of “bead” like protrusions of yarn created by looping the yarn around the needle a bunch of times and then going back and knitting all of those loops together, so that they form a sort of rounded protrusion coming out of the front of the knitting (but pretty, unlike my description of it).
Like I said earlier in the post, lace knitting can be done on any weight of yarn. Not long ago, Jared Flood (a, gasp, male knitwear designer who is, frankly, brilliant when it comes to designing knitted objects) updated a vintage doily pattern into a lap afghan pattern using worsted weight yarn. The Hemlock Ring Blanket is beautiful, as is his photography of it, so take a look at the link to his blog post. It features a star shaped flower at the center, which eventually branches out into a feather and fan pattern (a classic motif in knitting patterns, which has both its adorers and its detractors — I fall into the former; I love it). It’s the perfect lap blanket to give as a gift, as it is both warm and snuggly and eminently useful, and it would also size down nicely into a baby blanket (especially if you were to use a fingering weight yarn, it would probably size down perfectly).
There’s something about lace as a technique that speaks to me, above all other techniques in knitting. Something about the way I can read a chart (that’s a knitting pattern presented visually, in a chart of little blocks with symbols that say what stitch comes when — it’s a visual representation of the knitted item, and when it’s done really well, you can sort of squint your eyes and actually see what the pattern will look like, just by the chart alone), and process it through my fingers, and create something gorgeous. But it’s not even the creation of something gorgeous that’s what draws me to lace knitting. It’s something about the stitches themselves — the yarn overs, the slip slip knits, the knit two togethers. Or the knit six togethers, while holding the yarn over your head and hopping on one foot. (Kidding!) There are definitely some more exotic stitches that you come across, and there’s always a challenge to be found in a lace project. There’s always something new to explore, something else to tackle, even in this one sub set of knitting. I love it. It has captured my interest to the max. I’m looking for ways to incorporate lace knitting into my warm and woolly winter knitting, so that I can both have my cake and eat it too, as far as knitting goes.
I particularly like the idea of having usable lace that’s warm and snuggly. (Which fits quite well into my quest to figure out a lace wool sweater.) I find that the lace shawls I’ve knit, even the ones in lace weight wool, are quite warm once they’re on. Wool is such a great fiber. It’s warm, and yet it breathes very nicely. It insulates well, even when it’s a very thin layer (with openwork stitches throughout). I love it.
I guess that’s what this blog has been, all along. I’d thought about it as a way to do NaNoWriMo without actually writing a novel, but it’s been something far greater than that. It’s given me a chance to step back and think about my knitting and analyze it in ways I hadn’t had the opportunity to before. In short, it’s been a love letter from me to my knitting.
Dear knitting, I can hardly remember what my life was like before I met you. You filled a void in my life that I didn’t even know was there until you came along. I adore you. Love, Alex.
I think that says it all.
