Posted on September 9, 2004 at 2:19 pm

Knitting a sweater for oneself is an advertisment for something that most of us over the age of 25 have learned to keep to ourselves: how we feel about our bodies. It is a secret legible enough in our daily dress, but to actually make one of those things we wear is a potentially heartbreaking waste of time and materials.
I have only recently learned how to make a sweater that actually fits, rather than one with measurements better suited to a small potting shed. Yet I must have stuff yet to learn about what exactly is flattering about the few sweaters that I have made that I enjoy wearing. I know that they are mostly about hip length, long sleeved, reveal at least part of my clavicle, and have interesting detail toward my face rather than toward my middle. Fulfilling all of these criteria, Tuja should have been in my hall of fame. It fits nicely, a little on the big side (how I like it). But I should have recognized that the ribbing up the front that makes the compelling basketweave across the chest would call attention to my tummy, the part of my body that I am least pleased with.

I still love the pattern, and it’s not all that bad on me; I mean, I know I am not a slender little thing. I am a six foot Amazon Rower and lifter of large objects (that is–a 45 pound toddler). Sweaters do not, for the most part, create optical illusions. I will wear it. Probably more than my husband would like since he, the soul of candor, says that this is his least favorite of the sweaters I have knit. I promise that I will endure the ritual modelling picture sometime soon so that Margene can tell me that it looks nice and what was I thinking, because she, heavens love her, has been so supportive through the Heartbreak Hill stretch of this sweater, and it’s only because of her cheering me on that I finished the damned thing. I am alone this afternoon, so the shot of finished object on the patio bricks will have to do for now.

I managed to stiffen up the neckline a little with a snug row of single crochet and I am pleased with that since I didn’t like the droop around the v-neck evident in the pattern book photographs. The Silk Road Aran Tweed is a beautiful yarn to work with, but it should be given the price. It’s glossy and doesn’t split, the fabric has lovely body and a slightly softened stitch definition. If anyone reading this is still considering making Tuja, I would add to the caveat about how the chart is written that a selvage stitch added to each side of the neck opening will make your life easier and tidier looking when you add the crochet edging.

Up next: I’m on a seaming spree, and I think that I figured out what went wrong with Jaipur. Maybe I’ll have it finished to wear to the Boston Knit Out on Sunday.



Your Windsong stays on my mind.

Did Heathcliff call?


Self-conscious? who me? no I love to have my picture taken. That’s why of all twenty-seven shots I made my husband take, the only one I could stand to post on the blog is the silly one where he said “Do your best Rowan impersonation” and it wasn’t even a good impersonation.