I am knitting with purple yarn that I've had awhile. The yarn itself is plain, a good wool in a brand I like and trust, and in a color that I am fond of--or at least I was, once.
A few years ago, I wanted to knit a sweater. I wanted it to be a purple sweater, a cardigan, and I had bought something like 12 balls of the above purple yarn (on the right) on sale some time before that--I got a really good deal on it, it was still what I would consider a staggering sum today, but like 80% of my stash, those were the good days (with 2 incomes) when I could buy a staggering amount of fiber without saving and scrimping and selling a dozen finished pieces to raise the cash.
My knitting skills were ok, not great, but I'd ventured into slightly larger projects before and felt confident I could pull it off. I understood knitting, purling, and cabling. I'd been doing all three of these things properly for some time. I knew that gauge was a fickle, fickle mistress, and thought I understood the importance of proper gauge--that math which allows you to extrapolate the size of a finished garment based upon how many stitches you get to an inch in a smaller square of knitting, called a swatch.
Oh, I had grand plans. I was going to make this sweater, and it would be my favorite sweater, and I would wear it every day and proudly say to those who loved it "why, thank you, I made it myself."
Take a moment and look at that sweater. Really, go look, I'll wait. Now contemplate these changes:
I was a much bigger girl then (2 bust sizes bigger, according to that pattern) and very self-conscious about it, so I wanted a loose fitting sweater and planned on making it a size bigger still (the largest size the pattern provides). I wanted to take a garment that was meant to be fitted, and make it a loose one. I was especially paranoid about wanting to cover my hips, so I planned on elongating the cable-and-garter ribbing at the bottom, to cover my ample bum.
Second, I don't care for zips on knitted sweaters, so I was going to change that to buttonholes, without actually knitting a separate button band, just using a garter stitch edge--changing the closure, which may have changed the stability of the front of the sweater.
Third, I am not a big fan of the hood. I know hoodies are all the rage, and that they're supposed to be the ultimate in casual wear, but for me a hood is a functional statement more than a fashion one, and I prefer hoods only on outerwear. I figured I'd make a shawl collar (or the like) in its place. (The plan was vague.)
Finally, as much as I loved the sleeves and was confident I could pull off that sort of knitting feat, I wanted it done in my lifetime, so I opted to knit a plain sleeve with a little cuff detailing instead, thereby changing the central motif of the sweater.
Confident that none of these changes would affect the pattern enough to make it un-doable, I carried on. I cast on the sleeves, knit until the raglan decreases, and put them on a holder to set it aside to do the back. I had a little trouble with the back, but got it to the same point as the sleeves, and then knit the 2 fronts.
It was when I started decreasing to bring the 5 pieces together that I realized things were getting a bit big. I slid the stitches around on my 29" circular needle, no clue how big it really was but figuring it was fine, no big deal....the decreases started to measure a little long, but I wasn't concerned....I decided I was bored with the decreases, and I'd gotten to the point where I could more or less do some seaming to bring the body together, so that's what I did....
After weeks of decreasing and nothing seeming to get smaller, I decided to try the thing on.
Imagine my surprise when I put it on...and realized it was a bit big. Really. Just a little? Oh, and long. (Elongating the hipline made it longer? REALLY? Get outta town.) Also? The fronts pulled oddly. (Couldn't be because I changed them.)
I sighed, and realized--I was never going to finish this sweater. I'd knit for weeks, using so much purple yarn I'd actually had to go back and add to it (16 skeins? That wasn't the tipoff? Denial is powerful my friends). And even after I came to the conclusion that nothing could save it, it was destined for the frogpond, I still had to spend hours ripping the thing back and rewinding it into useable balls.
By the time I was finished, with hours of knitting and nothing but yarn to show for it, I was sick of the yarn. Purple? What was I thinking? ARGH. I tried dying some of it to no avail. I gave some away. I stuck what was left of the full skeins in a bag, and tried not to think about it.
But needs must, and here I am again, with presents to knit and no budget for yarn. So the purple comes out again, to knit into baby sweaters, and into mittens for Tessa...and I'm trying to ignore the twitch over my right eye, because I really do like purple, and I really do like wool, and I'm trying really hard to remember that...and not the Purple Sweater of Doom.
