Love turned sour

I first discovered Knitty in 2004, and Mariah was the pattern that introduced me to the incredible resource that *is* Knitty. Before Knitty, there were some sources for free knitting patterns on the internet, but fewer than half had photos, and even fewer were enticing enough to knit. Mariah had me at "Hello".

I saw it at my [then] boyfriend's cottage, because he was oh-so-cool enough to have DSL, and I printed out the pattern because I knew I *had* to knit it. I might have carried the pattern around with me, and every worsted weight yarn was a potential candidate for My Mariah.

Maybe it was all the anticipation, how could any pattern hold up to almost SEVEN years of dreaming about knitting it. Mariah was my magnum opus**, my "someday I'll be a good enough knitter and I will make this" sweater. I bought hot pink cashmere on sale, and it marinated in my stash WAITING for the day when I decided I was finally ready.

This January, partly because of Jasmin 2011 (but also a little Jasmin 2009). Jasmin 2011 is all about productivity- knitting what I'm inspired to work on, when I'm inspired to work on it. Combined with my Jasmin 2009 goal of using the good stuff now, it seemed like exactly the right time for Mariah to stop being a dream and start being a zippered cardigan.

I blasted through knitting the body

I knit the body in one piece, instead of three.

Highlighted the chart with NO MERCY

I <3 these highlighters

And sleeves, which are normally my kryptonite? Not a chance with a chart this interesting

This sweater was brought to you without a cable needle.

It's a yoke sweater, so the get-Chloe-to-set-my-sleeves-in time delay didn't apply here. I attached the sleeves and after the first few awkward rows (which they are, at first), my beautiful yoke sweater actually looked like a beautiful yoke sweater.

The hood slowed me down, but I kept at it. Finally, it came time to add the zipper, and I was going to do it myself. Three trips to the fabric store later, and four zippers later, with the aid of Caro Sheridan's brilliant tutorial, I applied my first zipper.

The zipper install is hardly my best work, and really, my backstitching looks more like highway 17 than a beautiful, straight row of stitches, but it's my first one. I'm going to re-do it when I get the perfect zipper, and my next zipper install will be better, because now that I've done it by myself, it's okay for Mom to help me. You understand.

I wove in all my own ends, and despite the fact that it was 78ºF (25.5ºC) and humid (for California) I put it on proudly and bounded over to my mirror to admire my handwork.

I hate it. It's boxy and shapeless, and the neckline is AWFUL. You can't see it from this shot, but where the hood grows out of the sweater is weird and floppy, leaving the awful straight-across neckline in a place that doesn't agree with normal t-shirts (I tried two different shirts, no success). The phrase "waste of cashmere" may have crossed my lips.

I blinked back the tears of a woman who finally got what she wanted, and realized that it wasn't, quite. "Disappointed" doesn't seem to quite cover it and "devastated" seems a bit melodramatic. However, I had plans with Guido, the charming host of the It's a Purl, Man podcast, and he was not deserving of my bad mood, so I pushed the misadventures of Mariah to the back of my mind, giving it only a brief mention when with a fellow knitter. He could relate.

After dinner, where Guido and I discussed the finer points of the difference between a knitting guild and a knitting group, where knitting is going, and whether or not weaving and spinning are the next knitting, he invited me to the Where 2.0 conference, where they were having Ignite sessions. Guido knows how to show a geek girl a good time, let me tell you. The sessions we saw were interesting, engaging, funny, and enlightening.

(It also made me want to unplug my whole life and live as off-grid as possible, but that is usually how I respond to the whole "everyone knows what you're googling" side of the internet.)

Where 2.0 is at the Santa Clara Convention Center, where Stitches West is held. The SCCC is notoriously over air-conditioned, and I didn't notice. I was wearing my Mariah, and I was comfortable.

Maybe we'll come to some sort of agreement. Maybe (with the help of my friends) I'll find a way to make Mariah more fabulous. After all, who *isn't* improved with a few minor nips and tucks?

Maybe this was my fault, hyping up Mariah so no matter how great it turned out, I would be disappointed.

Nope. Definitely not that. But we'll figure out a way to fix her, or a way to amicably co-exist, because after all, we wouldn't want her to be a waste of good cashmere.

**To be fair, it really seems like every successive sweater that I knit is the best/most challenging thing I've ever knit. I'm a little proud of that.

Dr. Jasmin is In

We all have Days. (You know, the kind Mama told you there'd be?) It's not fun or interesting to talk about those, so let's talk about something that never ceases to make me feel better.

Cashmere.

Do I have your attention?

Working with cashmere has scientifically been proven to lower your blood pressure. Even sitting in traffic, simply stroking a ball of cashmere is enough to soothe the ragiest of road ragers, and can get you out of a moving violation. ("I'm sorry officer, before you write that ticket, you should pet my ball of cashmere.")**

As we all know, stress is a killer. It's responsible for sleepless nights, weight gain, bad skin, and poor decision-making. (When was the last time you made a really *great* decision, stressed out of your skull? Think about it.) Also? I've never heard anyone say, "I really am regretting this cashmere _____."

Why? Because cashmere is never a regrettable purchase. I've never seen someone do the walk of shame back to the store after buying a cashmere garment. You know why? Because it never happens, unless it's to exchange it for the right size. Which is totally different.

I have some cashmere in my stash (all of which I've bought on sale) and I've knit a little bit of it here and there. During the Social Pressure Experiment, Chloe talked me into some hot pink cashmere (which wasn't hard to do at 50% off), and I have been waiting and waiting to cast it on.

After a day full of exciting, enriching, and character building challenges, I dove headfirst into my stash and cast on my Mariah. And then I knit a whole bunch, while reading my buddy Elizabeth "The Blizzard" Zimmermann, and then re-reading How to Knit a Love Song. (You should read it, especially if you're a fan of romance novels.)

Looks good, right?

I knit the body in about five seconds. (Up to the armholes anyway.) Time twists, bends, and loses it's meaning when you're working with cashmere. You don't need a sonic screwdriver, or a Doctor. Just some cashmere.

When I got to the armholes, I discovered something delightful. This is a yoke sweater! Before fall of 2009, I had never knit a yoke sweater before, and it turns out? I LOVE THEM. I love that you knit like 2/3s of each of the wretched sleeves, you join them to the body, et voilá!

The sweater you're knitting? Looks like a sweater is flowing off of your needles. It bears repeating, especially given how much of a thrill it gives me.

Speaking of wretched sleeves, Mariah's sleeves are still utterly charming. Clearly, either she is good at what she does, or we're still in the honeymoon phase because I simply can not get enough of these cables:

Yes, the color is accurate. Retina-searing pink!

They are truly potato chip knitting, in the purest sense. (When I was 16 years old, my mother first used the term "potato chip knitting" to describe turning cables.) I must be running a fever, because I am looking *forward* to the second sleeve. (These sleeves really have too much going on for me to knit them simultaneously. Also, I'm watching TV while I do it.)

The really amazing thing is that I have two sweaters worth of beautiful, luscious, soft handspun wool that are ready to cast on, and I can't be bothered to put down the cashmere and cast those on. I can hear you weeping for my predicament.

Please, don't weep for me. Just think, the next time you have the chance to buy cashmere on sale, "I'm prolonging my life."


** This is not true at all. It's science that I just made up. Feel free to post it to Wikipedia and cite me as your source. None of it is true, and you should never do anything you read about on the internet, especially my blog.