The penguin with the pointy sticks

Welcome: Kntting and fencing but rarely together

Lapurplepenguin is the off-duty identity of a Northern
Irish born, London-based journalist and editor.

In her down time La Penguin likes to to take a break from the serious thinking about future media and society and such stuff to indulge two particular hobbies.

Although superficially different knitting and sabre fencing share some surprising common traits (apart from getting you odd looks on the train) - storage requirements, specialist kit, strange languages and of course the pointy objects.

The blog is mainly about adventures in yarn and jewellery but will occasionally feature a spot of swashbuckling.

One thing I should explain is the name. You can find me on twitter and ravelry at lapurplepenguin and so this blog belongs to a penguin with pointy sticks (knitting needles and swords). Purple Penguin has been an all purpose name I've used for years. It first started I think when I needed a name for a quiz team or the like. Someone said think of a couple of things you like: obviously purple and penguins.

But it then has come in handy as a code in relation to knitting and dressmaking. If you are wearing a garment you made and someone compliments it, and you admit you made it, there are sometimes odd reactions. But if I say "it's a purple penguin" they nod or say really.

Dealing with dementia: Crying over a chocolate digestive

This is a version of a facebook post I wrote a few days ago. Although it's not the normal theme of this blog I wanted to share this because it is important to me and because I think it offers an insight into how tiny things can become very important when someone you love has dementia.

I went to see Mum today.

For the first time in many weeks she was out of bed and seemed pleased to have a visitor.

She chatted away - you can't make out much but it's generally a good sign.

Then the staff brought her tea and two chocolate digestives. Usually Mum would gather all available sweet things to her but this morning she ate one and then looked at the other for a long time.

Then she pushed the plate towards me andsaid very clearly "that's for you". 

Her most coherent sentence in about a year. 

I cried.

Great British Sewing Bee - bee still my beating heart

It was with some trepidation that I tuned into the BBC's Great British Sewing Bee. To be honest, although other TV forays into craft have raised the profile of the handmade, there has tended to be a tweeness factor.

So there I was ready to produce a pragmatic, critical review and then it happened. 

I fell in love.

No, not with Saville Row tailor Patrick Grant - that's the debonair chap in the centre - but with the sewing studio and the people in it.

I wanted to be running between shelves of fabric and trimmings like a kid in a Lego factory alongside Sandra and having a calming herbal tea with over-ambitious Tilly.

I identified with these people to a ridiculous extent. They talked about wanting to put their personal stamp on things. As Jane said "nobody else will be wearing what I am" and "I love it when people ask 'where did you get that?' and I can say 'I made it".

I shared Lauren's memories of having a sewing kit at a young age and others' of sewing with mothers and grandmothers. I wanted to go to the cafe and have a chat with these eight contestants. 

I also identified with the pressure and the tension of the tasks. I think I make the same face as Lauren when trying to perfect on invisible zip. And anyone who has sat up late sewing on buttons or hemming a garment that needs to be worn the next day, will know exactly that sweaty finger feeling the contestants developed when told they had only 10 minutes there.

I enjoy shows like Great British Bake Off and Masterchef, but I've never had the same emotional engagement as I found with this. With this every challenge, problem and triumph had resonance with me and I was still picking up tips.

All of which makes it impossible to review this show pragmatically but I will pull out a few interesting points.

Individuality - these where eight very different people with very different styles but sewing was important to all their lives. Their individuality emerged more than you would see in Bake Off, I think, in the challenges. We had eight different A-line skirts and eight different adapted blouses rather than eight homogeneous lemon drizzle cakes.

Technical detail - I'll need to ask a sewing novice if it worked, but I was impressed with the technical information that came out about using patterns, fabric choice and fitting. There was a good deal of basic advice but also useful tips for the more experienced, such as Patrick demonstrating how a poor fit on the shoulder made the hem of a dress slope.

A project for viewers - I loved the idea of a simple laundry bag project to try at home. Oh, and why don't I own a bias binding maker?

I'm clearly too besotted to judge whether GBSB will bee a smash hit. But I do believe there is an opportunity to inspire people to dust off granny's sewing machine and convince them that sewing isn't necessarily about chintz.

 

Read also: Fab clothes for a fat woman's view

From granny's crochet to modern art

Catching up on BBC Radio 4's Front Row programme I heard an interview with the American artist Chuck Close who currently has a show at London's White Cube gallery.

As in this section of a self portrait, Close works in great detail building up is work section by section on a grid. A technique he says, in the interview, that may be at some level influenced by his crocheting grandmother.

He talks about her building up a tablecloth motif by motif and how his work breaks things down in the same way. It is lovely to hear a fine artist talk about "craft" in this way and worth a listen - his interview is at 7mins 12s.

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Chuck Close Prints: Process and Collaboration, White Cube - exhibition review

From sketch to catwalk

Recently I worked on a project that drew on my technical knitting skills and my knowledge of garment construction and pattern writing in new ways.

I was put in touch with Elly Arif, an MA designer at the London College of Fashion preparing for her final show. Elly was creating a menswear collection that drew on ideas emerging from the London riots and concepts of hierarchy for which she wanted over-sized knitwear. The challenge was that she wanted the pieces to have distortions so that they could be draped, pulled and pieces of the garment overlap.

The first thing on the agenda was to work out how to create the bulges and folds.

So off I set with a bundle of sample yarns - all cotton - to experiment and produce a selection of bulgy swatches for Elly to look at.

For distortions where the curve ran vertically I used increases and decreases but the more horizontal/pouchy one's required short row shaping and developing an understanding of how different curves behaved in the chosen yarns.

Once I'd come up with some basic shapes and techniques that gave the effects Elly wanted, she provided me with sketches and measurements to work from.

Sketches like this were my "patterns". From my swatches I worked out the stitch and row counts, etc to work to the measurements of Elly's pattern toiles and then used what I'd learnt from the tests to reproduce the distortions from the sketches.

It was an interesting process but not as arduous as it sounds. Because I had come up with methods for the distortions I was able to adapt them to different sizes and even create asymmetric curves as I went.

Once I'd worked out the basic processes, I created a basic jumper pattern for the main yarn for the collection, so other knitters could come on board although I created four pieces including a jacket with a curved hem an asymmetric front closure. 

But until I received the show photos here I never saw the final effect because I deliver the pieces ready to make up and I was out of the country for the show. But now I can share here as my first foray into the world of the catwalk (well since I was a v little girl modelling a party dress at a local fashion show...).

 

Making Monday - a riot of colour

As it was my birthday this Monday, I made sure I planned the week to set aside some quality making time today. 

And as the sun came out, it became all about spring colour.

This cuff of a fingerless mitt is a glorious daffodil yellow (yarn from Sparkleduck) which I've using to bring some brightness to a grey few weeks - and of course bright colours are a big fashion trend this spring.

And adding the first contrast edging to my Pinion cardigan today made me smile - it's exactly as I hoped.

The purple is used for the edge of the rib and as the quills of the feathers worked round the yoke of the cardigan and I really think I'm getting the jewel/peacock tones I had hoped for. 

All this colour made me have a bit of a poke about in my yarn stash and came across a skein or two I'd forgotten about.

In particular there is this Crazy Zauberball with orange and turquoise. I'm not sure what exactly it should be yet but the really strong colours make think of a light but dramatic statement scarf to drape over a plain top or jacket.

Once I'd reorganised the yarn and plotted future projects, turned my attention to the bead stash which has plenty of colour.

 

 I recently learnt traditional pearl knotting and wanted to practice.

I've been experimenting with using less traditional thick cord with some vintage carved beads and am quite pleased with the necklace I finished today.

(Ok so I compensated for the natural tones with a bright background here. The day was clearly turning into one for photography practice.)

 Then I turned to some more traditional practice using silk cord and semi precious stones. 

I've had a string of hot pink faceted jade beads in the bead box for quite some time. The bright colour is perfect for this spring but I wanted as vintage style as well - something that could go with a tea dress for example. I had black silk beading cord which made for a strong contrast with the pink and I also had a handful of smaller watermelon tourmaline beads with pinkish tones to add extra interest. 

An hour or so of happy knotting practice later - plus a little work with pliers and findings - and I had created a lovely birthday present for myself.

 

 

 

 

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There Will Be Steeks...

1920s glamour

There Will Be Steeks...

...and thankfully no blood.

This year I have said I will do three things with yarn I have never done before: knit socks (yes, it's true, I'm a sock virgin), crochet a lace shawl and steek.

The most scary of these is steeking. Socks are just a different construction using the basics of knitting and I've crocheted lace motif's before - this will just be bigger. But taking the scissors to my knitting is hard to do.

But a friend and I have decided on the Pinion cardigan by Christa Giles for our 6 nations challenge this year. This is a mini-KAL running between the kick-off of the first match of the rugby championship and the final whistle of the last day.

 Actually we somehow decided that steeking would be our real challenge and Pinion with its colourwork feather yoke and clever shaping gave us the incentive.

This week I finished the body and decided I should steek and knit the edgings before tackling the sleeves so I could try the cardigan on as I worked.

So then there was some procrastination - which I am officially labelling as thorough research - while I assessed my reinforcement options.

I considered the sewing machine method but was concerned about getting the stitch length right and the possibility of snagging the knitting as well as not being able to see the cutting line.

So I choose the crochet method as beautifully explained by Kate Davies.

For me the advantage of this method was that the crochet lines make it very clear wear to cut and give the impression of solid reinforcement.

I chose to use the contrast white yarn from the garment for my crochet lines because it would make things very clear for me.

The crochet method involves working a row of double crochet into the stitch legs on each side of where you plan to cut.

(Kate explains it better)

You work one crochet row from top to bottom and then turn the knitting through 180 degrees and work the second row in the opposite direction so that you end up with two lines with the stitch "ladders" you are going to cut between them.

And then you have to get the scissors out, take a deep breath and make the first cut. 

And suddenly it is not as scary as it first seems.

The knitting didn't suddenly unravel and I have two "facings" to fold back and an obvious line of stitches to pick up for the edgings.

 

 

 

 

Auntie B - an internet knitting whizz

Because I've been a bit quiet on the blog of late (apart from this week) I haven't told you about Auntie B, demon knitter and proto-silver surfer.

She's the sort of lady who has a massive collection of vintage aran patterns, has used the same DPNs almost constantly for 30 years and until recently was more interested in whether internet cafes had good scones rather than good bandwidth. But now she's discovering the joys of Ravelry, downloading patterns and meeting other knitters online

Auntie B is the central character in my new column for Simply Knitting. And I made her up. 

But she owes a lot to my real life Aunte Betty, doyenne of the WI and someone who made a impact on everyone she met. I can certainly imagine her doing all the things my character does.

So I hope the column will make people laugh and find out more about all the internet resources there are for knitters - and perhaps get to know Auntie B just a little bit.

 

 

Highgate Knitters - crafting in a craft brewery

It's more than a year since Anke Holst and I started a knitting group in The Bull brew pub in Highgate, London.

We'd never met before our first knit night - although we knew several people in common including my sister - but luckily we got on with each other and the venue.

Since then we've met lots of lovely knitters, taught people to knit and made new friends - and more recently I was interviewed about Highgate Knitters in a feature on knitting groups in The Knitter.

We meet every Tuesday evening from 7pm and the pub usually reserves a table for us - if you are ever in the area do come and join us, to chat, knit, crochet, learn or just admire each others' yarn.

Totally unravelled

I finally made it to Unravel this year - the yarn festival at the Maltings in Farnham, Surrey.

Saturday morning was bitterly cold which made it easier to spot other knitters emerging from the station - a fine array of woolly hats, scarves and gloves was the clue. And more knitting soon brightened our day with a yarnstorm of signs.

The show had just opened when we arrived and there was still a queue but at least everyone was entertained by a few welcoming sheep like this one.

I'd also planned to take pictures inside but it was so busy that didn't seem practical. But I can confirm there was plenty to see with yarn pretty much everywhere.

There was a fantastic variety in fibre and style of yarn and a tremendous array of colour. 

I wasn't really on a shopping trip because I have plenty of yarn (I would never say "too much) but did plan to allow myself a couple of advance birthday treats (it's nearly the right day) and I was also making one particular purchase for a friend who'd asked me to look out for a merino/cashmere 4-ply in gold as highlight colour for her Pinion cardigan.

Instead I was mainly there to see what was going on, get a feel for what's popular right now, admire yarn and talk to lots of lovely knitting folk.

And lovely they all were too. For example one lady offered me a seat on her stand - I think it could have been Debonnaire - because she'd overheard someone asking me about my back problems and I didn't look well.

Nearby I admired Millamia's new designs for adults and was recognised as "one of the people who told us we should do an adult collection". I was particularly chuffed because it was a single conversation at another show several months ago.

At Sparkleduck  I got a chance to show Heather what I'd been doing with some spectacular yellow yarn I'd ordered from her earlier in the week (of which more in a forthcoming blog). 

And there was a chance to catch up with Anna from Onehandknits and Sarah from The Bothered Owl - a talented designer and a clever accessory maker respectively as well as being lovely people I don't see enough of.

Then there was catching up with friends and meeting online ones face to face at last as well as bead sourcing, yarn squishing and admiring at so many stands including Fyberspates, SkeinQueen and EasyKnits where I was completely smitten with this pumpkin coloured sparkly 4-ply.

It's likely to turn into a lacy scarf or a shallow crescent-shaped shawl that will look stunning over a dark jacket or coat.

It just hasn't quite decided what it will be yet.

Oranges and browns were clearly my colours of the moment on Saturday. Almost as soon as I arrived, I spotted some Fibre Harvest Alpaca laceweight in a coppery colour (officially Rust) and a skein had to come home with me especially as it was on offer for the show.

But all morning I kept thinking about a dark colourway they had as well. So much so that after a lunchtime sit down for a cuppa I was plotting a striped circular shawl. And so the inevitable happened...

I could easily have spent much longer at Unravel, if it hadn't been for the opportunity to indulge one of my other passions. 

My second ticket of the day was to see England versus France in the Six Nations Rugby Champs at Twickenham - and believe me after that (and the 3 trains between Farnham and Twickenham) I was truly unravelled but still very happy.

 

 

 

Attitudes to arts education giving me 1980s flashbacks

Standing on a train platform the other day I could have been transported back to the 80s. To the right a poster for a Stallone movie, to the left a Schwarzenegger one. A new Bowie single out. Oh yes, and headlines about recession.

But it was a very 21^st century phenomenon that really made me think of the 80s –  the podcast I was listening to featured Sir Christopher Frayling, former head of the Royal College of Art and author of On Craftsmanship towards a new Bauhaus, talking about the current devaluing of arts education – especially in relation to design and making.

Like outgoing chair of the Arts Council in England Liz Forgan, he was decrying the fact that arts subjects have been left out of the core curriculum for the reforms of secondary education in England.  

Frayling was also talking about how the Russell Group of universities did not recognise arts and design subjects as important. 

It was this downgrading of the value of arts, design and making that took me back to the 1980s and an interview for a place at Cambridge that may well have set me on a very different course to the one my teachers anticipated back then.

Me in the 80s - I'm the stoppy one on the left! 

At that point being very able at maths and sciences I was on track for an engineering degree. I already had gained my maths A level a year early and thanks to a combination of my own desire to pursue all by interests, a school that believed in diversity and my natural traits of overachieving and bloodymindness, was now studying for art, further maths and physics A levels, as well as fitting in a Drama O level/GCSE.

So there I was in Cambridge meeting a senior member of the engineering department feeling nervous but OK because I’d already achieved one of the standards for entry. So it was a shock to be described as a “typical female” who couldn’t make up her mind about science v arts. The attitude was that art was a waste of my time – despite my arguments that spacial awareness and an aesthetic sense were in my view important skills exhibited by many engineers.

This was the first time I had really encountered the attitude that art and design was a lesser type of education or skills. It was a shock – especially to someone who came from a family filled with artists and makers.

It was that experience that made me think beyond my expected career path and I’ve spent all my adult life in one creative sector or another – theatre, TV, publishing, craft.

Over the years there has been a change in this divide between science and engineering and the designers and makers – note the rise in discipline of product design. So it is depressing to think that education in the UK might be returning to the attitudes I experienced in that dim Cambridge study. It also goes hand in hand with the lack of publicity given to the value of design and making skills, include heritage crafts, to the UK economy.

We risk returning to the assumption that art education is about creating pretty pictures and not about how visual skills can equip people to find different types of solutions to problems. And those different approaches can be as important to great innovation as research  in lab.

For the UK to be a success we need the skills of science and engineering and the skills of art and design to turn the ideas of the former into great products.

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