I haven’t blogged about the nearness of first sweater victory because it just doesn’t fit.
The body is perfect up to a few inches below the armpit, but then it blooms grotesquely into ginormous bagginess. Plus, the sleeves are really, really huge. It’s possible the collar also has an unpleasant Flashdance thing going on.
And just to be clear. When I say the sleeves are huge, I mean it.
They make me look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow man. Clearly, Denial is not just a river in Egypt . It is a wide and mighty river that flows right through my living room, because I knit two of these gigantic sleeves. Wicked was knit top-down, so this also means I screwed up at the very beginning when I decided how many stitches to cast on, then compounded the original screw-up as I increased and increased and increased through the yoke. I’m trying very hard not to be bitter about this.
For some reason, it cheers me considerably that my friend Kelley had much the same experience with her first sweater.
This is the first version of her baby sweater (pardon the blurry picture – the light was bad and I was laughing, cruelly).
Truly, she is my student.
I’m seriously considering ripping out both sleeves and the yoke and reknitting them in a size that will actually fit, bottom-up this time. I’ll also knit the collar on smaller needles to keep it from going all Jennifer Beals on me.
I’ve never ripped out that much work before and the idea is frankly a little nauseating. But I’d really like to have a wearable sweater.
So what do you all think? Live with it, since it’s my first sweater and all, or send it to the frog pile?
And can I just rip out the top half of a top-down sweater and start knitting it bottom-up, or will that screw up my stitches?
10 comments:
Sweaters are so hard, aren't they?? I'm hoping the more we knit them, the better we'll get at it. Anyway, I say rip it. I know it hurts, but it would be so much better to have something wearable in the end. You'll be thrilled when it's done, and won't even remember how hard it was to rip.
How the hell did that happen? Those sleeves didn't look that big the last time I saw them! I don't think it's you, I think the wool has been possessed. That is the only logical answer. Perform and exorcism and start again. :(
Oh sweetie! I was teary when I frogged my little-giant-baby-sweater-from-you-know-where. But I was so so glad once I did it and saw what "right" looked like. The Wicked must be frogged!
Frog pile. Sorry for the tough love, but you'll be *so* much happier with a sweater you'll wear. To help with the nausea: some tasty alcoholic beverage of your choice and constant reminders of how little time it will take compared to the decades you'll wear the sweater.
Good luck!
(Now, with email!)
Ribbit, ribbit. If not the sweater you never wear will taunt you from the drawer. Now I'm nervous, I have Wicked on my list of "to-knits"....
Oh dear. Is it a gauge issue? For instance, the bottom could still look good on you (it appears to be kind of swing-esque) even if it's bigger than the pattern recommended.
You should rip it out :/ There's no need to have an impossible-to-wear sweater. I think you have a good idea to knit up from the body. If it's just straight stockinette, it shouldn't show that you changed directions.
You must rip. You won't regret it. I promise. We'll all be there for you to get you through it.
Okay two things.
1. Frog the hell out of that sweater, reknit the top and sleeves top down, then kitchener the whole damn thing together. I only say that because I don't know about knitting up/knitting down. If that would work then cool, do that. I just think that if you keep it the way it is and chalk it up to being your First Sweater, then you will always have a well knit, ill fitting First Sweater to have to store somewhere because you sure won't be wearing it. If you redo it until it's perfect, it'll be that much better because it will be a labour of love. (I spelled labor that way as a tribute to Frente, because now that's what's going through my head. Thanks.)
2. Regarding the previous post, I have to tell you that I respect your hatred of pooling, however whenever I've seen that I've always thought it was just how the yarn turned out and was totally pretty in its own right. Also, when it comes to socks that may stripe a bit but don't have any sort of set pattern, I don't think they have to match at all. In fact, I think the beauty comes in NOT matching.
Those are my two cents.
I think your knitting is beautiful, by the way. :)
Sweaters are treacherous beasts. I always feel a bit like I'm holding my breath until one is actually finished and it fits.
Ripping it is the only answer for such sweaters. You'll never wear it otherwise and it will just sit in your closet and taunt you. Don't ask how I know.
I'm bad though. Once I've liberated the yarn I tend to knit something different. Sort of like, hey! I want this sweater more anyway, so maybe it was a good thing I had to rip. Yeah. It sorta' works.
Post a Comment