Friday, September 15, 2006
Chasing Coco
I admit it - I’m a slave to fashion. With few exceptions, I am one of the first to jump on any trend bandwagon, with predictably varying success. Trust me, I know how to modify and edit - my round, curvy form and sallow coloring don’t allow for just any fad - but I’ll usually figure out a way to, as my buddy Tim says, “make it work.” I am a fashion ho.
As soon as I saw the runways replete again with Chanel-styled tweedy jackets, a trend the Village Voice sniffingly dubbed, “faux-nel,” I wanted one. Bad. But all the ones I found were pink. And small. Which made me look like a butcher’s wife putting on airs, desperately in need of a blood transfusion.
The obvious answer, of course, was to knit one. I thought it would be easy to find a mosaic stitch or other slip-stitch in which to work it; a warm camel tweed, combined with a soft peach, would be dynamite and so versatile with the rest of my wardrobe. Because, let’s face it, the charm of this particular iconoclastic piece was its versatility with separates.
But could I find a warm camel tweed yarn, or a soft peach wool? No. It was infuriating. Finally, Lion Brand came out with Landscapes, and the Spring Desert colorway jumped out at me. It was exactly what I wanted - and the very first edition of knit.1 magazine had a skirt in Landscapes, demonstrating that, if I got ambitious, I could create my very own, most versatile suit. And I could use just a touch of the pale beige Fun Fur - very mildly, I assure you - to mimic the shabby-chic fringe trim. Did I pay attention to my previous perils with garments made from bulky-weights? No. I am a fashion ho - who, apparently, never learns.
So I swatched - and the top one, on the far right, is what I selected:
... courtesy of Barbara Walker’s First Treasury, she called it, simply, “woven stitch.” It used the uniquenesses of this particular yarn to full advantage. I have no idea why it escaped me how incredibly expansive (no, I did not say “expensive”) this would look wrapped across my ample boobs or backside. Not to mention hot (and not in the good way - in the peri-menopausal way). And this yarn’s tendency to felt, always a death-knell for a big, chafing, sweaty gal. With all the enthusiasm only ignorance can spur, I began laying in the twenty (yes, twenty!) balls I figured the jacket and matching skirt would take.
Thank the knitting-goddesses that I never succeeded in gathering them before I found this pattern:
... from Knit Picks, their Slip-Stitch Collarless Jacket. Yessssss! This was just what I had in mind, but somebody else had already done the math. It would be easy to add some princess-seamed curves. And it was fashioned in lightweight cottons, with vertical lines - perfect! I started swatching with their Twist and Shine Sport:
(... just ignore the hanger-on - it’s my standard swatch-tag. ya know how you can get to tossin’ swatches in a drawer, and before you know it, you have no idea what needle-size you used, let alone which yarn it is? These alleviate that problem. Yarn brand goes on one side, spi and needle size on the other.)
I was soooo ready to cast on - except the colorway I preferred, that was closer to my original vision, was the one on the right, Parrot and Sand. But if I squinted, it was - really - the exact-same color as our cats’ vomit. And they’ve got a chronic hairball condition. My poor lil brain simply couldn’t escape the constant reference.
So I’ve not made any further decisions or taken any further steps. My paralysis may be my friend, tho - I’ve discovered a few cheap-n-cheezy “faux-nel” knock-offs at the discount stores, which is a sure sign the trend has turned fad and is completely ovah. Just the other day I actually overheard some lil snotty slip-of-a-thing call one “so three years ago.”
Believe me, the irony is not lost. Coco eschewed trends, creating and coining “the little black dress” that could be worn in any situation in which the modern woman might find herself. It was she who said, “fashion fades - only style remains the same.”
So, what’s a knitting gal to do? It seems a sure bet that if you CO a trend, it’s bound to be over by the time you get around to the BO. And there’s an ever-closing window of opportunity that lies between being in love with a particular style or a wardrobe need, its execution time, and its fashion timeliness. I’m old enough to have an FO or two (and more than a few UFOs) that embrace the volume and garish color of the ‘80s - yes, some even in mohair.
I have no answer. I’m so not a “classics,” preppy kinda gal. And try as I might to create a more enduring “style” all my own, the ADHD kicks in and before you know it I’m bored and on to the next sparkly thing. So I guess I’ll just have to learn to dance on that wire, juggling as best I can with my many balls - of yarn.
Yuko Shimizu for The Village Voice
