Millbrook
Last year I began knitting Pine, a cardigan I had long coveted from afar and was excited to knit. The excitement turned a bit sour as I am a process knitter at heart and I did not enjoy the process one bit. So, Pine has been languishing in my knitting bag since early autumn just needing one sleeve, a yoke and a button-band. Deep down I knew I was not going to finish it. This week I decided to cast on a cardigan as an inter-rim project until summer knitting kicks in. I had eyed an unlikely cardigan pattern some time ago. Granted, the original version leaves a lot to be desired - an unappealing contrast trim, no shaping and strange styling - but look closer and the appeal becomes evident. The cardigan has a simple, vintage feel to it with a discreet lace pattern and interesting garter-stitch edgings. It is feminine without hitting you over the head with frou-frou.
I first cast on using a beautiful mustard yellow wool/silk mix, but it felt wrong. The yarn seemed to call for cables and texture - not lace. Then just before midnight I realised I had the perfect yarn waiting for me in the old knitting bag. Pine is no more and has been replaced by Millbrook, my classy vintage-y cardigan. I love how it is knitting up so far: the fabric is lightweight and yet substantial; the colour is sublime (i.e. a lovely heathered olive green).
Millbrook? Since seeing Rufus Wainwright in concert last week, I have been revisiting his first three albums. He played "Millbrook" off his first album at the concert and it has stayed my head ever since. It is also a better name for a cardigan than "Between My Legs", "Vibrate" or "I Don't Know What It Is".
Off-topic: I'll be appearing as a Eurovision pundit(!) on Ewan Spence's podcast later this spring. I am not sure if this marks the last blow to any credibility I may have possessed at some point or if it is my first step towards media super-stardom. I will let you be the judge of that.