Bad news and good news

I give up on the sontag. For now, at least.
The circular needles are not good at all. They're certainly better at keeping the stitches on themselves (the needles). The matter is, they're too good at it. I had trouble getting the stitches that had gone from the needle part to the cable part back to the needle part when I needed to knit them (if that makes sense; I lack the proper English terminology for this). Which means every row was taking me much longer to knit than it usually would. So I only made about 17 rows. Until I arrived to a stitch that had got too tight and simply would not go. At. All.
So I apparently have to start again. For the third time. And I'm positively fed up with it by now. By now I should have been somewhere at the winged part, as others are. Instead I'm back at the beginning. And it's frustrating me, and it's pointless to keep struggling with a project that's frustrating me. Plus I have a medieval dress to make, among other things.
So I quit. I might pick it up again when I have more time and come up with a good needle solution. The time is not now.
That was the bad news.


The good news is, we were on the exhibition opening yesterday, and the Latvian president did arrive, and made a (very nice) speech, and we were not the most casually dressed ones there, nor the most dressed up, so I guess we managed well. Many thanks to all people who gave me their opinions, here and on the Sense & Sensibility boards, and on BurdaStyle.
The exhibition is nice, too - photos of the "Baltic Way", the human chain people from the Baltic countries created back in August 1989 when they were not Baltic countries, only the Baltic part of the USSR. There were interesting things. Like photos from a photographer who had a chance to go take photos of the human chain from a helicopter, but declined the opportunity, because he believed it was more important to document the funeral of a Latvian soldier who died in the Soviet army. I still cannot decide whether he was stupid that he declined such a historic opportunity, or whether he was wise to go and take photos of a funeral that probably hardly any people paid attention to at that time (and even less so now), just because he believed the person deserved it. The creators of the exhibition probably thought the former - I guessed so from the short description, because it said "unique opportunity". But I'm not so sure about it myself.

Anyway, because Stephanie Ann asked for a "fashion show", here you go:

Me - "Bisha meets woodpecker"


(I look a bit weird. That's because I was just trying to tell my sister that she probably had the camera tilted, but she was already taking the photo. I think it's mostly Adéla's fault, not my sister's. Adéla's seriously taking up about one eigth of our whole garden.)

I wore:
- the red headband
- a rather old, dressier, white T-shirt
- a thrifted black wrap cardigan
- a black corduroy skirt from a clothes exchange
- white heeled shoes
- old white purse that's been lying in the wardrobe for ages
- my sister's bangles

I'm rather delighted by the fact most of the things I wore were secondhand...

Just to make thing more fun and tense: I had originally wanted to wear my hair loose, but when I set out to arrange it that way yesterday (I sleep with my hair braided, it saves a lot of trouble combing it), I foud out that I had the infamous Bad Hair Day. Somehow, when I last washed my hair, the grease only proceeded further down the hair and was not completely removed. I did not notice, because I braided my hair wet. And it looked weird, and I did not have time to wash it again. So I wore two braids instead, and felt a bit silly and childish and quite good at the same time.

It's "Bisha meets woodpecker", because Bisha, my cat, is black with white "bib" and feet, and because of the red headband.

My sister - In black and white and violets


She wore a black skirt, and white Indian blouse (which I hemmed for her to be shorter), shoes that used to be my other sister's, violet shawl of uncertain origins and in her hair (which you might see a bit of on the bigger picture) a violet bobbin-lace butterfly our wonderful crafty grandma made. And bangles.

The beginings of a sontag, take 2

I'm rather busy with other things. It's not much. But it's something.

A bunch of unrelated crafty news

I'm not progressing on the sontag. In fact, I'm regressing. I took it with me to knit on train, and lost stitches in the packpack... After many many attempts to rescue it somewhere further bellow, I decided that the only way to keep my sanity about this was, paradoxically, to start it all over again. This time on circular needles, so there will be more room for the knit (thanks for the suggestion, crafty ladies from NeilGaimanBoard! - funny, the overlaps that happen online).
It does not make me happy, but it's the only way I can save the project without getting really, really angry. Besides, I made mistakes in the first rows and now I can start with a clean slate.


I made my first eylet on my regency stays. It's not a lacing eyelet, only an eylet for attaching the straps, but it makes me happy, because it proves my new old awl is a very useful thing indeed.
The stays are a total experiment, so I don't post about them in detail. If they turn out fine, I'll tell you about my successes, and if they do not, I'll tell you about my mistakes. Right now I still don't know which one it is, so I keep it to myself. I suspect my completely unconventional way of making them would only baffle you. So right now let me just tell you what I already mentioned, that I'm making them out of an old duvet cover.



And I started making a bergére hat, out of a cheap straw plait men's fedora-like hat.
In fact, it's the second cheap straw plait men's fedora-like hat I bought. The first one I reshaped only slightly and wear as is, minus the ugly fugly cheap synthetic glued-on band and the elastic band inside. (I do not have a photo of it as it is now. It's simply less pointy and more rounded. Minus the bands.)
(And yes, I wear a men's hat. I have a large head. I've always had a large head. I suspect the pretty women's hats they had would not even fit me properly.)
Anyway, I unravelled the second one and started making a new shape out of it on Saturday evening. I ruined two of my fingers while sewing it together, but they're quite fine now, so I can continue and ruin them again...
I was inspired to tackle this by Jenni's fantastic capote - I think you'll learn much more about this technique from her post than you ever could from me, especially considering she had a teacher while I do this, again, unconventionally and on my own.
I use styrofoam base for a bobbin lace pillow which I got from my grandma (who apparently made it herself) for pinning the circular part of the crown on. After I make a big enough circle, I plan on moving it to the other thing, which is a styrofoam "wreath" with paper circle pinned on. I started on this thing, but it was soon clear that the paper was not sturdy enough, so for a start I used the "pillow". I have no idea how I'll continue after I finish the crown, but I'm sure I'll think of something by then...



(Note: "thing" is a very poor substitute for the very clever Czech word "udělátko". The online wordbook I use tells me it's "dingus", but I have suspicions about that word. It does not seem to mean exactly the same. "Udělátko" is sort of cute and affectionate. I cannot imagine having the same feelings towards "dingus".)



Last thing. Books. Surprised?
I've just bought a book on Czech folk costume embroidery.
No, I do not plan making a folk costume anytime soon. (If any project would drive me mad, this would be it - just with the sheer cost of materials alone - last summer, I had a conversation on the matter with an interesting old lady who makes folk costumes. Don't ask me how much it costs to make lace neck ruffs for Moravian folk costumes. First, I do not remember anymore, second, it was crazy. The overall cost of a Moravian folk costume is, I think, about 20 000 CZK.)
But I thought, what a great source for historical embroidery stitches!
It is. It just seems it's not exactly geared towards ordinary semastresses, rather towards research experts or someone like that. Still, I think if I get more into the details and try the techniques out on scraps, I can learn a lot from it. Plus there are many photos of actual embroidery. Only in black and white and not the best quality, because the book is oldish, but always with the stitches listed below. Some interesting techniques!


The other book is not crafty at all, but I could not leave it out. How could I leave out Karel Čapek, with Josef Čapek's delightful illustrations? Fairy-tales. :-) Published 1941.

Beginnings of a Sontag and One Clever Cat

As you may or may not know, I'm participating in Stephanie Ann's Civil War Era Knitalong and knitting a sontag.

I've just realised that if I'm to post my obligatory knitalong post, I should do so now - tomorrow I'm going to a concert and I won't have time.

So here it is. My seven rows of blocks and the beginnings of an eight. Considering I started knitting on Friday, I think I'm catching up nicely. :-)

As I already wrote in comments on Stephanie's blog, I tried adding stitches by knitting two eyes out of one, but it was messy, so now I simply add them by wrapping yarn around the needle. It is easier, and saves me the trouble of making sure how it looks... It's on the edge, so the holes thus created are not such a problem. Stephanie Ann assured me it's a perfectly period way of doing it, so, hoorray!

The rest of my sontag is not so period. The yarn I'm using is not 100% wool - only 40%. But my objective for participating in the knitalong is not so much to make it period-accurate as to use up yarn that's been lying around the house for too long. And that's certainly the case of this one. My mom started making a sweater out of it a long time ago and never finished it. Recently I turned a part of it into socks for my sister, but there's still a lot left. So now it's becoming a sontag from an 1860 pattern. I think that, outside of being a blend, it's perfect for it. Very pleasant! And there is some wool in it.

I have no idea what type of yarn it is, weight-wise etc. I think it's worsted - at least the lables say that the factory that made it is a factory for worsted yarns, so that's another requirement gone wrong... Whatever. I like it.

I knit it doubled - it's quite thin on its own, doubled it's just fine. And the knitting goes faster. ;-)

Oh, and the border is going to be green. I did not take photo of the green yarn, but it's very similar to the brown one, only it's already unravelled from something that it previously was - I don't know what.

I'm probably using needles a tad bigger than necessary. But I always knit very tightly, so I think in my case it only helps - now my knit is nice and fluffy, which I have never achieved before. Ho ho!

...

I'd like to follow Stephanie Ann's example and show you a cute kitty-and-yarn photo. Except that I'd never let our cats close to this project. Still, I present to you, separately, Yksi The Penetrator, who's earned her nickname by learning how to open the front door:



(By jumping on the door handle from above. Don't tell your cats.)

She's sitting on the Green Monster (aka car) and examining my camera. Or maybe going to eat. That's not quite clear.