Knits in Action: Bond

I really love the idea of knits in action posts, but here's the thing: It's really hard to make them look more candid than my photo shoots, because typically I take my shots early in the morning and I am dressed exactly as I will be for the day. Although I have occasionally dolled it up a little more for you guys, for the most part I try to look as I really will. Moxie and I love to take photos, as well, so our "candid" shots aren't much more candid than our staged ones. I'm pretty practiced with the self-timer, so unless we get fancy with the location, I usually take my own pictures, as well.

Bond is a great layering basic. I let a little orange frill peek out from underneath.

I decided the best way to give you a really candid photo would be to take pictures of myself getting ready for work (I have a very casual office). So here I am, freshly showered in my hair turban. If you don't have one of these, you need one. It's the best method I know for keeping wet hair up and making it dry naturally faster. You gotta love the turban.

The Name is Bond. Jane Bond.

I'm still plugging away at the hand-knitting. The Marseilles Pullover is coming along, and I've pulled out the Daktari skirt, one of my older UFO's. I have finished knitting the skirt (I hope - more on that later) and have the first half blocking. I've stretched that bugger out to within an inch of its life. But, as a little respite from all this handwork, I also took the opportunity to dig into the stash and crank out a nice little basic sweater on the machine last weekend. I spent the week hand-knitting the ribbing and seaming, and had it finished just in time to wear for the hottest weekend we've had in a while. When I started this sweater a week ago it was chilly and rainy, but not surprisingly it was eighty degrees for the photoshoot I did today.

The name that either Kim Hargreaves or the Rowan team chose for this sweater is Bond. I'm not really sure why. It took all my restraint not to stage photos of myself swooshing down the alps while being chased by Russian operatives. Somehow I managed to hold back. Instead, you get yet another shot of me on the side deck. The color is a bit lurid, as my Exilim is in the shop and the Powershot that Moxie got for Christmas hasn't decided to play friendly. C'est la vie.

I'm not in the mood for pattern notes today, so instead I'll spend a few minutes sharing some recent observations on the compatibility of Rowan designs and the knitting machine. I've always loved Rowan, but I have discovered, after going through about twenty back issues in the last week, that until recently most of their designs were, well, boring. What made the magazine so great, and kept it from becoming the knitter's version of the Talbot's catalog, was great styling, unique accessories, and hot models. (How many times have you been suckered by a hot Rowan model? It happens to me all the time. Although I know I probably shouldn't, I'm still planning to knit this silly sweater with butterflies all over it someday because I just can't resist the model. She looks so great covered in butterflies, surely I will, too. I am such a sucker for packaging.)

Boring is not a bad thing, though, or at least not in my book. I think that the Rowan model of style is singularly instructive (although I have been known to make fun of the fact that many of their models do not don pants). Most of my wardrobe is solid in color with classic, tailored lines, and is completely coordinated with everything else. Every once in a while I will buy a zany orange dress or some fun lime-colored slides, but as a rule I wear these things infrequently and stick to my uniform, perking myself up with the occasional fun accessory in a wild color. So a classic, fine-gauged sweater in a nice neutral color is right up my alley, even if it is a bit of a snooze.

And this is why the knitting machine is such a wonderful invention. I want the boring sweater, and I want to use the lovely fine-gauged wool that has been languishing in my stash (for eight years, no less), but if I have to choose between making an interesting sweater in a funky color by hand or knitting endless miles of stockinette, I know what I'm going to do. With the knitting machine I can have it both ways. I slowly continue work on lovely cables and lace by hand, and pound out a wardrobe basic on the occasional weekend. Lovely.

Anyhoo, my advice to those of you who find yourself slogging through Rowan's exquisitely-crafted stockinette sweaters on US 3 needles season after season is to run out and invest some money in a knitting machine. (Or do as I have and beg, borrow and steal one!) It will be worth every penny and you'll suddenly find that you have time to finish hand-knitting that intricate aran that has been sitting in a pile for months.