Wearing Waterlily

Yesterday I followed some of Sally Melville's advice and actually wore something that I knitted.

I HAVE wrapped myself, or carried, or covered fingers and head, or packed in knitted things. But actually wearing a top or sweater that I'd knitted is still fairly new to me. I'm a perfectionist about fit; I learned to sew in 7th and 8th grade home ec and was pretty good at it, but never wore much because I wasn't satisfied with the fit. The things that I did make and wear were forgiving and 60s hippie-era looks. Wrap skirts. Marimekko handbags. Dresses made from Indian bedspreads.

I'm still rooted a bit in that era. My coworkers point me to skirts or shirts they think I'd like by saying "that's a Janet dress" or "that looks like you." And what I think they mean is that the piece is a little bit unusual, a little bit Bohemian, a little bit fun.

This is what I wore with my Waterlily Top: a pink linen skirt with an asymetrical hem, red Mary Janes (the red and pink echoed the colors in the top), and a fitted jean jacket. Lots of compliments and lots of proud feelings.

I continue to fuss about fit, though. I thought I'd made a suave move in lengthening the should straps so that the armholes of the sweater are the same size as the armholes in my favorite Old Navy ribbed tanks. I industriously added 4 or 6 rows to each strap, then connected them with a three-needle bind off.

Oh, hubris. By the end of the day, the sweater had grown about 1-2 inches lengthwise, and the perfect armholes are now way too deep.

My solution: try to delegate this to someone better than me at finishing and working on details. A crocheter and all-around nice person at my favorite yarn shop repaired a 60s era, full-length knit dress that my younger daughter found at what used to be a great, unedited, holy mess of a resale shop down the street from us. She rewove the moth holes, and has now placed first rights on the dress if Molly ever decides to give it up.

Because I did such a great job at weaving in the ends on the straps, I'm hoping that I can hire Nancy to unweave, shorten the straps, and reseam them. Barring that, I may go with the lazy woman's solution and just take a tuck and sew them up shorter.

So, now I know. If the designer uses Colinette and specifies a length or armhole, trust her.