In the Works: A Hat

Am I really doing a work-in-progress post about a hat that will take me less than 90 minutes from first cut to the last backtack? Well yes, I am. I'm working with this sweater knit fabric, newly available in the shop. This fabric is no longer available.

It's a tuck lace, same fabric type as in the Moonstone Sweater but a new stitch pattern that I'm very excited about! Though I was happy, in general, with the way Moonstone Sweater turned out, I wanted to learn another way to do the seams with openwork fabric, something that was possible on a sewing machine. And that is the reason this hat gets a mid project post!

Here are the best of my various sewing experiments and why I rejected them (so I remember next time!)

The yellow one on the bottom is my current favorite sewing machine seam, which I'm calling a covered seam. Though I love it for more substantial fabrics, even if I were to use a binding that was an exact match in color, the seam is much, much too heavy for an openwork fabric.

The blue one in the middle is a standard 4-thread overlock seam, which I've used many times. In fact, that's a practice scrap from the Blue Moon Renfrew. Eventually, I upped the differential feel to get a flatter seam on that one.

The top example, seen from the right side, is similar to what I decided to use for the hat. The seams were sewn with a regular sewing machine set for a very narrow zigzag. The seam allowances were steamed open and then topstitched with a stretch stitch. The one on the left was topstitched separately on each seam allowance. The one on the right was topstitched down the center. The stitches blend in with the fabric. You wouldn't be able to see the stitches, if I'd been using white thread.

What I (re)learned is that, of course, there isn't a way to hide seams when sewing openwork or lacy or sheer fabrics. It's best to make sure the seams work with the design of the garment or accessory. In the end, I didn't use any of the above. I did use a topstitched flat seam but with a 3-step zigzag for the topstitching.

Here's a peek at the hat so far, looking somewhat like a sea slug in this shot.

Modeled pics are coming soon. It's just a few minutes a way from finished!

O!

Designing and Knitting the Fabrics

In case you didn't know, I love textiles! I especially love knits. I even love the "concept" of knits, the idea that so many varieties of knit can be made from a continuous length of spun fiber. On a good day, my time is spent either in the act of making sweater knits or otherwise working with knits in some way -- choosing the yarn, designing a stitch pattern, blocking the fabric or following up with some cutting and sewing. In reality, as most people running their own solo creative businesses know, there is much time spent with administration -- email, phone calls, packing, shipping, bookkeeping, etc. But it's all good.

People who aren't familiar with my sweater knit fabrics or machine knitting in general often ask how the fabrics are produced or how my fabrics differ from sweater knits available elsewhere online or at the local fabric shop. I can only speak in general terms about other knits, but I can tell you how my fabrics are made.


This is the corner where I knit the fabric. That's a Passap DM80 knitting machine. I'm sure it looks familiar to any machine knitters reading this! It's considered a v-bed, semi-industrial, hand knitting machine. (Yes, semi-industrial and hand knitting!?) Every time the green carriage is pushed across the needle bed another row is knitted. Though my machine is similar in many ways to machines found in knitting mills, my fabrics will never be as wide as those produced in a knitting mill, because the industrial machines are wider.

My knitting machine has mechanical needle selection, meaning that every stitch pattern is "programmed" into the machine by way of some mechanical action, either with a punchcard or by directly manipulating clever little sliding metal pieces called pushers. The pushers "remember" the stitch pattern so it's not necessary to enter the pattern for every row.
The front needle bed of the knitting machine with blue fabric hanging from the needles between the needle beds. You can see part of the back needle bed at the top of the picture. When looked at from the side the beds form an upside down "V" shape.  (Though a punchcard is in the reader in this picture, it's not in use for this stitch pattern.) 

Getting back to the top picture, if you look closely, you can see a computer between the knitting machine and shelves of coned yarn. I make some of my more complex designs using a program called DesignaKnit 8. Though the program can be used for designing garments, I use it to help me visualize a stitch pattern, to quickly do color separations (for multi color knitting), and to give me alerts to change settings or yarn colors for certain types of knitting. I use the program mostly when I'm doing swatches for professional clients. Even though my knitting machine isn't electronic, I have a cable with a sensor that links the computer to the knitting machine to keep track of where I am in the stitch pattern.

On the back wall is some of my yarn collection. The quality of the yarn is what makes my fabrics different from much of what is available online and in fabric shops. My merino wool knits are soft and luxurious. The pearl cotton knits show excellent stitch definition. And my knitted bamboo is silky with a subtle sheen. It's all because of the yarn, some of it the same yarn used in the sweaters from famous designers.

When I'm making an original stitch pattern design, as opposed to a standard rib or stripe or houndstooth, the idea often begins with a pattern found somewhere other than in fabric. I try to translate the pattern to knit, knowing full well that it will never look like the original source, but that it's a good place to start. Since I'm inspired by texture, I usually redo the swatch several times, each time doing a variation such as adding extra tuck stitches in order to tweak the texture just a bit and, of course, trying the pattern in different fibers and colors. Other times I'll just do a (relatively) flat color pattern that comes from my imagination or from "playing around" on the knitting machine or computer. I rarely do figurative knits.
This lacy pattern was inspired by wood floor panels.

A photo of a grating and potential stitch pattern
So that's how the fabric is designed and made. As some of you know, the building I'm in is currently under renovation. Even though my work area is set up now, I'll be temporarily moving my equipment (again) to make way for the installation of new radiators. It's disruptive, but fortunately I'm almost used to working around disruptions now! One bonus of working here is that when the construction platform isn't blocking my view of the street, I have lots of entertainment. I live and work on a popular street for photo and film shoots in Soho, NYC. Click here to see my favorite video capture from last September.

O!

Thoughts on Thread Tracing Sweater Knits

My tools for thread tracing sweater knits: a paper pattern without a seam allowance, weights to hold the paper pattern in place, a "tapestry" needle, and contrasting mercerized cotton thread
I have a secret. I've been thread tracing. Thread tracing is that method of marking the seam line on a pattern piece, that is, marking the actual sewing line of a garment with a hand sewn running stitch before the pattern piece is cut out. Some people think it's a tedious process, but it moves along rather quickly and efficiently with sweater knits; there are big spaces between the fibers to push your needle through.

I think thread tracing is magic. It makes the sewing line visible on both sides of the pattern piece. Thread tracing may even act a little like stay stitching for unstable sweater knits, preventing unwanted stretching along the edges.

Why does marking the sewing line matter when I'm going to use the same seam allowance throughout? Why not just use those handy seam allowance guides on the serger or sewing machine to guide me? Or why not just mark the sewing line on the wrong side of the fabric like this (second pic)? Well, I've done all those things in the past, and I'll continue doing so for certain quick makes and accessories. But when I want an easy way to match a textural or color pattern at the seams, or if I want to prevent a sloppy fit from happening because my fabric seems destined for stretched out or frayed edges, I'll thread trace around the paper pattern pieces before removing them from the fabric. (For open work fabrics, I still recommend paint on temporary stabilization, perhaps with thread tracing now?) I might be thread marking all the notches and other marks too. We'll see. How to make a well sewn sweater is what I'm exploring and practicing. Thread tracing is becoming one of my essential steps.

Though the book does not mention sweater knits, it was only after reading Couture Sewing: The Couture Cardigan Jacket, Sewing secrets from a Chanel Collector that I started trying the technique. Because I'm working with a knit, as opposed to the woven fabrics in the book, I'm tweaking the method a bit. Amazingly the process seems faster and easier than I recall it being the one time I tried it with a woven fabric many years ago. For sweater knits, I'm using a blunt end, large eye needle, and 20/2 mercerized cotton yarn. The stitches are easy to remove. When I'm happy with my process, I'll post my notes.

Have you ever used thread tracing when constructing a garment? How did you like it?

O!


Doubly Mittens

Fabric is "Labyrinth" which will be is available in the shop again, this time in a variety of colors.

Mittens. Doubly warm mittens! I used a double knit merino wool. And then I lined them with more double knit merino wool. Perhaps I should call these quadruply mittens!

Overkill? Perhaps.Temperature reached 51 degrees Fahrenheit yesterday, the day I completed them. But it's snowing today in NYC and if we go through another cold spell here, another polar vortex, I'll be ready. :)

You may recall from this post that the mittens weren't working out the way they did in my mock up. I didn't do a redesign on the fly as I thought I might do. Instead, I turned to a tried and true, my unfelted version of Molly's Mittens. (Here's the link to the pattern page Purl Bee.) What I did was to cut two pairs of mittens that are pre-joined at the wrists. One pair is the outside that you see. The other is the lining. Once I got over the fact that I'll have to save my original design for a thinner fabric (and perhaps another winter), the sewing went along rather quickly.

Here's something else. No sergers were used to make these mittens! Yes, sewing enthusiasts, no need to stay away from sweater knits because you lack a serger. First I used a narrow zigzag (0.75 mm width, 3 mm length) for the seams and then a wide 3-step zigzag (5 mm width, 1 mm length) to sew the seam allowances together.

Yes, I sewed the seams first this time. Sewing the seams first may help prevent stretched out edges, I learned from the #fabricchat of January 17. Though we weren't discussing sweater knits in particular, I'm pretty sure this option is a good precaution. And if it's a wildly unstable sweater knit you're working with, you can always use a good temporary fabric stabilizer as I did in this situation.

The 3-step zigzag is another great finish for cut sweater knit edges. This is one of the edge finishes recommended by Pam Turbett in Revised Knit, Cut and Sew: Book 1. Those three stitches manage to darn any slightly fraying seam allowances quite nicely, and yet the seams and allowances remain secure and stretchy with good recovery, the way we all like our knits.
The 3-step zigzag is stretchy and darns together any slightly fraying edges.
I ended up being very glad I hadn't serged, because fixing the problem mitten areas involved a little bit of "unsewing" and recutting, something I might not have been able to do had I serged.

It's February and I'm finally ready for one of the coldest winters on record! How about you?

O!