So that movie Julie and Julia was inspiring for a few reasons: blogger makes good, and gets book deal; and regular person making stupendous food.  So, like the observant woman that she is, my mother caught on to this kick of mine and got me Julia's Kitchen Wisdom - a much less frightening Julia Child cookbook than the whole art of French cooking tome.

And behold my first creation: Potato and Leek soup.  Isn't it pretty?

Isn't it less pretty, but more delicious once it's been blended?  This recipe could not be more simple, and could not be more delicious.  Simple ingredients that just taste damned good together.  I made this before I acquired my stupendous immersion blender, so I can't wait to make it again with my new handy tool. 

The best part about this book is that it has little inset boxes (like a textbook) that give you instructions on the basic basics, like, how to clean and slice a leek.  Which is great for those of us like myself who grew up thinking leeks were mutated green onions, or if you're like my soon to be husband who thought that leeks were only in pipes.

I go through cravings for soup that I find hard to explain, and yet, am completely comfortable with this fact.  Don't question a good thing, right?

Like many of you, I'm sure, my love of hand crafts is not limited to the two sticks with the points.  I love needlepoint, cross stitch and embroidery (particularly stamped cross stitch and embroidery- is there anything more relaxing than having your pattern right on the work?)

And the next craft that I have a craving to conquer is dress making, but dress making entails using ... the sewing machine [dun dun dun ...]

That thing, that beast, that terror, has never, ever listened to me.  You want to sew four sides of a pillow?  You expecting it to take thirty minutes at most?  Oh-ho, says the sewing machine, I'll have you here for SIX hours wresting with knots and tangles on the underside of the fabric, constantly re-threading the bobbin and trying every tension setting under the sun until you give up and sew the stupid thing by hand, which takes you ... thirty minutes.

It sits on the floor of the coat closet, taunting me.  I wanted it so badly, begged for it as a gift, and how does it repay me?  With spite, that's how.  Spite.  So back into the closet it goes, forgotten for another year, until ...

It strikes me.  Inspiration from above, or, more accurately, from Becky Blue J.  I love vintage dresses, but the thought of knitting one by hand makes my arms ache a little.  And here is Becky, making a new dress, tailor fit, every month!  By God, my sewing machine must be revived!  Next, I stumble upon BurdaStyle, a sort of Ravelry for sewers, and ring, ring, ring go my heartstrings.

Will I be successful?  Maybe.
Will it be hilarious?  Probably.
Will my fiance be sick of me yelling at the sewing machine after a few days?  Indubitably.
Will I tell you, faithful readers, all about it?  Gladly!

The last from Learning to Knit.  This cabled mitten pattern is a great first for two techniques: mitten making, and cabling.  Do you love cables, but balk at the thought of learning them on a pattern as large as a sweater, scarf, or even a hat?  This is the trick for you - see how you like it, then move on to something like this Cap Sleeve Blouse!


Click here for pattern PDF.

You guessed it: another easy pattern from Learning to Knit.  But this scarf is a step above the basic garter or stockinette stitch scarf.  If you've made a few of those and are ready to move up, but not ready to tackle a sweater, check out this tone on tone, subtle herringbone pattern.  Some lucky fella' is sure to love it!


Click here for pattern PDF.

Another beauty from Learning to Knit.  This sweater vest is another great starter pattern - it is simple, but it has a vintage fit, which gives it an extra stylish air.  There is nothing tricky about this pattern at all, and you're sure to love the results!


Click here for pattern PDF.

This simple and sweet vintage twin set came from a charming little book called Learning to Knit.  As the title suggests, these patterns are for the beginners.  This pattern consists of a short-sleeved pullover, and a cardigan.


Both would make excellent first sweater projects, or great pattern guidelines if you're interested in creating your own pattern using a neat stitch, like I attempted with the ill-fated Cloverleaf Sweater.  May your efforts be more graciously rewarded!


Click here for the pattern PDFs.

Looking for a long project with results to reward your efforts?  Consider this chic dress from the 1940's by Beehive.  The gauge is small, but the results are worth it.


Click here for pattern PDFs.

By far the most popular pattern here at Sweater Girl Knits, is this Schiaparelli designed dress from Picture Yourself in Handknits (1938).  This book is gorgeous, containing dozens of patterns by famous designers, including Chanel.  We have a few other patterns from this book listed here, including my Two Piece Sports Dress, which you can also find here.


Due to the book's condition, I was not able to repair this pattern to a quality that I felt comfortable with - so I'm offering it for free.  You can join the many who have loved it on Ravelry - I can't wait to see someone's finished product!


Click here for the pattern PDFs.

The recent loss of my grandmother gave me cause to reflect on just why I love vintage things so much.  It's too easy to be nostalgic about the past - to think that today's problems would be solved if we just didn't have televisions, or the internet, or suburbs.  If I, like my ancestors, worked and lived my life on the land.

But of course one of the first things you realize when you really dig in to the past is that there have always been problems - some worse than today's, some not - some startlingly similar to today's - but all of them painful, even desperate for those experiencing them.  

And yet, I feel there is something there - in these crafts.  That in making these stitches I am participating in a tradition and in that participation am capturing, if only for an instant, that past.

I look at these two pillows, each stitched for my grandmother - one by me, and one by my mother, with almost 30 years between.  And in spite of differences in fiber, or technique it remains: each stitched with a needle, each stitched with a thread.  

Things were never more simple than today.  Their complexities were merely different.  But this is simple - this is the same.  With a needle and a thread, we stitch as they stitched, and from the line of time knit together the fabric of memory, family, and history.

Another confession: This sweater has been finished for months, and I have let it linger in my project cabinet, just waiting to be pieced together. 

Well, technically it was dashed together the night I finished it.  I knit the thing in part as my Halloween costume (that's right.  October.  What of it?) and wore it that evening.  It was a success, so one would think I would be just itching to wear it again, right?

But sewing a sweater together after it's completed is my bane - I hate doing it; I always want to rush things, which is a waste of all that hard work.  If you're going to spend weeks knitting something you should at least put it together right, right!?

Of course - which is why I just couldn't muster the energy to put this thing together yet!  But, with brisk spring days around the corner, I have a yearning for this terra cotta cotton beauty.

Here are my thoughts on seaming a sweater together after it's complete:

1. The invisible side seam is worth the trouble if you're willing to be careful and take your time.  I learned this technique at the incomparable Techniques with Theresa.  There is really nothing difficult about it per se ... but you have to be careful to not skip any stitches on either side (this will lead to a winding seam, or bunching/puckering on one side) and you have to be careful not to pull too tightly (which will also lead to bunching around the seam).  It takes awhile to get the hang of finding that little bar between stockinette stitches, but once you get it it goes along like a dream.  But, while you're learning, it's much easier to skip a stitch than you might think - which will have your sweater coming out unevenly when you get to the armhole.

2. Armholes and I do not get along.  I find the most difficult part of seaming to be getting that darned arm into place without ending up with a giant hole in my armpit.  When I whipped this sweater together quickly on Halloween I had two huge holes left at the intersection of sleeve and side seams because I hadn't stretched the sleeve edge around the circumference of the armhole properly.

3. Shoulder seams will relax. I remember piecing together my first sweater and wanting to cry because the shoulder seams looked so home-sewn.  They were standing up, puffy, just generally hideous.  But, I promised my co-worker that I would wear it the next day, and by the time I stepped out of the car the seams had relaxed with the stretch of the sweater around my arms, etc.

Now, I'm no expert (seriously) but I am confident that the trouble of seaming is worth it.  Raglans or other patterns that are knit in the round are amazing, but for me they always seem too boxy.  I enjoy a slightly more tailored fit, which for the most part requires the old side seam.

Hopefully next time I have a chance to show you this sweater it will be all put together and on my person and actually fits!