Cables are not flashy. They look good in the window of an overpriced designer retailer, they seem impossible to the new knitter, and they feel as good to make as a life drawing, or bread from scratch, or... some other thing that is fun to make and rewarding for the whole process. Whittling. Moonshine. Lightsaber squirrel gifs.
Every now and then I pull out the same three books and flip through them lustily. And secretly, too, because feeling lust for sweater patterns is a bit sad, as lust-having goes. I TAKES WHAT I GETS.
I imagine knitting a modern guernsey and having a man who suddenly sprouts mermaid tattoos and a pipe.
Or hey, in dark grey or a heathery black - maybe this one, instead.
Man's Tweed Pullover (great name)
NO, THIS ONE. Men's sweaters are hexed, anyway.
But my browsing always comes back to this one - St. Brigid. The one I am too timid to actually attempt. Partly because it looks so hard, partly because I hate the neckline and I'm scared of Alice Starmore.
Maybe some day. In a dark heathery red, modified for a graceful neckline, with a pair of slim jeans and boots. And a pipe.
Tomorrow: infographics.
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