FO: Retro Ribby Twinset

I will confess, I don't love this project.

I started this twinset (The Retro Ribby Twinset, from Knitting Lingerie Style, by Joan McGowan Michael) last spring and really enjoyed knitting the camisole.

I didn't like my choice of yarn, though. It is superwash wool, which just doesn't make for a great summery top. I think my love affair with variegated yarns also started to wane with this project. I love variegated yarns. I cannot resist them. But I rarely like the way the look knitted up. This fabric actually reminds me of a tv test pattern. I don't buy variegated yarns anymore, although I do like a nice almost-solid yarn.

So I didn't cast on for the shrug part of the twinset right away. In fact, I didn't cast on for it until this spring.

I got the entire thing knitted in short order, but when I began sewing it up, things did not go well. I tried repeatedly to make it work out, and finally, in utter exasperation, called it quits for good. But I didn't rip. I don't much like the yarn anyway, so I stuffed the whole thing in the back of the stash closet, never to see the light of day again.

At least until the previously-mentioned post-Dickinson cleanup. I came across it and thought, "Well, it's almost done. It just needs a little sewing up. Maybe a good blocking with fix the odd fit." And so I pulled it out, sewed it up one more time, and blocked the living daylights out of it.

I still don't like it. It is just a poor design. The fronts are made in a way that they simply don't fit properly. Every version I've seen on Ravelry shares the same problem.

Even though I'll probably never wear this set, I don't consider it a failure. I learned quite a bit from knitting it, including short-row bust shaping, the fact that I don't like variegated yarns as much as I thought, and that, sometimes, even professional design are a flop.

Payback

So I got to feeling a little guilty about the Retro Ribby Shrug. You know, what with the cheating and all. And I got out my darning needle and scissors and began sewing it up. I sewed the sides, and the shoulders, and set in one sleeve, and even sewed up the sleeve seam. I started setting in the second sleeve, and then I went off to the wedding and left it behind, figuring I only had a few minutes work left to do. I had some weird dreams while I was gone. I kept dreaming that I had done Something Wrong on the sewing. Which is weird, even for me. I don't usually dream about knitting. Well, I do, actually (although I try not to talk about it, at least among the Muggles), but I don't usually dream about finishing. It's not that exciting. This time, though, I had two distinct dreams warning me that there was Something Wrong with the finishing of the RRS. I put it down to simple exhaustion, after running all day and staying up with the bride until midnight, getting very little sleep before I was up at dawn to hose down the bride again and keep her within reasonable bounds of hysteria.

When I arrived home Sunday night, I was too tired to even consider finishing the few minutes of work I had left. It wasn't until Monday afternoon that I picked it up again. I finished setting in the sleeve and began making my way down the sleeve seam when it hit me, forcefully, that there was indeed Something Wrong. My shrug did not look at all the way I remembered the picture looking. It looked...different. Square. Slowly it dawned on me that the shrug in the picture was decidedly not square. I pulled out the book, and after a few hard looks back and forth, I concluded that I had, indeed, screwed it all up. I had sewn the fronts on completely wrong. Absolutely.

I began picking out the right side seam stitches, grateful, at least, that I could salvage the sleeve sewing and wouldn't have to set them back in. I finished picking out the side seam I was working and watched in horror as the right sleeve...fell off. Yes, I had picked out the wrong seam by mistake. I took a deep breath and decided to start over on the left side while I regrouped. Do I even need to tell you that the left sleeve suffered the same fate? Cursing quietly as I examined my new "vest", I decided my plan was doomed and that a complete reboot was necessary. I carefully picked out all the remaining seams and started again with all the pieces.

I sewed the right side, the left side, set in the right sleeve and sewed the sleeve seam, set in the left sleeve and began to sew the left sleeve seam. I held up the shrug. It looked a lot like the picture. Emboldened by my apparent--long-delayed--success, I headed for the bathroom mirror to try it on.

I have knitted a freak of nature.

It doesn't fit me. I don't think it would fit anyone. There seems to be an unusual amount of fabric gathered at the front of each sleeve. Sort of a puffed sleeve look, with the puff unaccountably shifted to the front. I don't think it's my sewing. I don't think it's my knitting. The measurements are all correct. I followed the finishing directions. And yet...there is most definitely Something Still Wrong.

I was momentarily tempted to soldier on and assume it would all come out in the blocking, but even a moment's rational reflection convinced me that this is not the case. There isn't enough blocking in the world to fix this. And I'm at a bit of a loss for any other solution, short of re-knitting the whole thing. And truthfully, I'm not even sure how that would help, since my pieces all match the pattern measurements perfectly. Clearly I have missed something important--some detail that would make all the difference in the finished product. But I'm afraid I lack sufficient interest at this point even to attempt to figure out what that might be.

Into every knitter's life, an occasional accursed project must fall. That is what the back of the yarn closet is for.

Fini.

Cheating

It's come to this. As if cheating on Death By Cables with the Retro Ribby Shrug weren't bad enough...now I'm cheating on the RRS with Sligo. Shameless, that's what I am. A project hussy.

The RRS is done. At least, the knitting part is done. It has a back, two fronts, and two sleeves, just waiting to be blocked and sewn together.

Usually, I'm pretty gung-ho about finishing. I don't like the sewing (if I wanted to sew, I'd, you know, sew), but I generally hop right to it once the knitting is done, because--let's face it--you can't really walk around with the individual pieces pinned to your shirt and call it a sweater. (Although some of us may have been tempted to try it.)

But even though the RRS was an exciting fling, and a very quick knit, the thrill is gone, and I'm seeing it in the harsh light of day with its curlers and its house coat, and I'm getting that wandering urge. I'm having a hard time resisting the siren's song of Sligo (so green...so green...). And Death? I've sent Death on a long vacation while I reconsider the relationship . I'm going with Bea's reasoning: "you have to look at your WIPs in relation to the season, WIPs for fall and winter 'stay' in that season, when spring comes, you start over at 0." Have you ever heard such a piece of knitterly brilliance in your life? Even the Knitting Goddess can't possibly argue with that reasoning!

New Project? What New Project?

This is not a new project. It may look like a new project; it may smell like a new project; it may even feel like a new project--but it is not.

This is a UFO. It is true that I just cast it on, but that does not make it a new project. I planned to make it last year. I even made the first half of it last year. Do you remember this?

This is the tank from the Retro Ribby Twinset in Knitting Lingerie Style. I made it last spring. I intended to make the shrug shortly thereafter, but I got sidetracked by Prosperous, and then Grecian Plaits, and Icarus, and by the time I thought of it again, it was fall, and I wasn't interested in a tank and shrug.

The status of this project is crucial. I still have not finished Death By Cables. Which means I still have not fulfilled my oath to the Knitting Goddess, and we all know what a b*tch she can be when you mess with her. I am not brave enough to fly in the face of her potential wrath by casting on anything new. We have already established that gift knitting does not qualify as "new." Neither do socks, because, well...just because. And of course, a UFO cannot be classified as "new." Right? So I figure I'm safe with this one. It's not a shrug; it's a twinset. Big difference. It is part of an unfinished project, not a whole new one. It's all in the details, people.

You've got my back on this, right?