An Affair in Sonata
The thing about knitting is that it helps to develop my patience, which I hear is a virtue.
And it also reminds me that I'm a big stupidhead sometimes.
I finished my Affair to Remember skirt in Elann.com Sonata this weekend, not without a bit of drama, cursing and misery (ok, not misery, but I felt really, REALLY dumb).
On Friday, I got to the end of the skirt, bound off, and tried it on. I was at work, and I looked in the mirror hanging over the kitchen sink and thought it looked pretty good. I proceeded to weave in the ends that evening. I was avoiding the seaming of the waistband, which I was not looking forward to because I thought it would be tedious and difficult. I decided to leave it until the very end.
I finished the waistband at about 8pm that evening, slid in some elastic for the waist and tried it on again. I went to the full-length mirror and had a look.
I looked at it from the side.
I stood on my toes.
I turned around and twisted around to look at myself from behind.
It was too short.
Not obscenely short, mind you. Just... not the right length. Kind of cheerleader when I wanted CEO. Like an unripe tomato in a sandwich. Kinda right, but not. No problem. I had a couple of balls of yarn left. I could just rip back and make it a couple of inches longer.
Problem was, I'd sewn in all the ends. And when I sew in the ends for a garment, those babies are in good. You can wash that sucker a hundred times, and it ain't gonna unravel.
I made a couple of attempts to find the ends before I threw the skirt onto the dining room table and pouted. I picked it up again... grunted a few times while I turned them hem around and around. Darn it. I took my little doggie and went out for a vigorous, frustrated walk, after which he collapsed on the deck in the Superman position and stayed there until he cooled down enough to lie down on his bed.
I sat on the couch, turned on a lamp and hunted for those fricking ends. It took me two hours, but I finally found them, picked them out carefully, and ripped back to the row that would allow me to work more length onto the skirt.
Last night, after ensuring that it was indeed long enough (well, I ran out of yarn, so that's about all she wrote), I sewed in the ends again with my usual tough-as-nails technique, and blocked it.
And there ya go.
On a side note, I have discovered that my back looks much better than my front, at least where my lower half is concerned. It seems like a vain thing to say, but it's important to recognize your strengths. And it appears that one of my strengths is that I look better leaving then I do coming.
Or, I could just walk backwards for the rest of my life. Whatever.
And it also reminds me that I'm a big stupidhead sometimes.
I finished my Affair to Remember skirt in Elann.com Sonata this weekend, not without a bit of drama, cursing and misery (ok, not misery, but I felt really, REALLY dumb).
On Friday, I got to the end of the skirt, bound off, and tried it on. I was at work, and I looked in the mirror hanging over the kitchen sink and thought it looked pretty good. I proceeded to weave in the ends that evening. I was avoiding the seaming of the waistband, which I was not looking forward to because I thought it would be tedious and difficult. I decided to leave it until the very end.
I finished the waistband at about 8pm that evening, slid in some elastic for the waist and tried it on again. I went to the full-length mirror and had a look.
I looked at it from the side.
I stood on my toes.
I turned around and twisted around to look at myself from behind.
It was too short.
Not obscenely short, mind you. Just... not the right length. Kind of cheerleader when I wanted CEO. Like an unripe tomato in a sandwich. Kinda right, but not. No problem. I had a couple of balls of yarn left. I could just rip back and make it a couple of inches longer.
Problem was, I'd sewn in all the ends. And when I sew in the ends for a garment, those babies are in good. You can wash that sucker a hundred times, and it ain't gonna unravel.
I made a couple of attempts to find the ends before I threw the skirt onto the dining room table and pouted. I picked it up again... grunted a few times while I turned them hem around and around. Darn it. I took my little doggie and went out for a vigorous, frustrated walk, after which he collapsed on the deck in the Superman position and stayed there until he cooled down enough to lie down on his bed.
I sat on the couch, turned on a lamp and hunted for those fricking ends. It took me two hours, but I finally found them, picked them out carefully, and ripped back to the row that would allow me to work more length onto the skirt.
Last night, after ensuring that it was indeed long enough (well, I ran out of yarn, so that's about all she wrote), I sewed in the ends again with my usual tough-as-nails technique, and blocked it.
And there ya go.
On a side note, I have discovered that my back looks much better than my front, at least where my lower half is concerned. It seems like a vain thing to say, but it's important to recognize your strengths. And it appears that one of my strengths is that I look better leaving then I do coming.Or, I could just walk backwards for the rest of my life. Whatever.
Comments
Keep on knittin' :)