FOs · Ravellings · socks

I lied.

“So are you hooked yet?”
Oh no, I said. Socks are great and all, but I love all forms of knitting equally, I said.
Well… yes, I do, I can’t say that I’d rather knit a sock than a sweater, or a lovely lacy wrap. Generally speaking. But right now I would.
Right now, in fact, I have an unhealthy desire to toss all my other planned and current projects into a messy heap somewhere while I cast on the next sock IMMEDIATELY.
Harvey doesn’t understand this.
Well, Harvey, it’s like this. My inaugural socks are imperfect. They’re a leetle too long in the foot; the stitchery is far from flawless; they are displaying an early tendency to sag. Plus, as gorgeous as they are, it’s unlikely they’ll ever get shown off in public. (The fault is entirely that of my shoe wardrobe — to show off socks, I need either really long boot socks, or I guess a kind of cute lace-up or similar shoe that I just don’t have, certainly not in a large enough size to fit handknit socks into.) But they feel great. I put them on, I don’t want to take them off.
Also, I really enjoyed the portability of socks. They look set to fill the gap in my handbag that has just been vacated by Gecko Ridge. In fact, I took them on a road trip just last weekend, and I do think it’s the first time I’ve really enjoyed knitting in a car; normally I find myself wanting more elbow room, and put my knitting away pretty quickly. And I see how satisfyingly mindless they are (or will be once I’ve internalised the construction; I’m about halfway there now); get started, go, don’t overthink it or check the pattern every five minutes.
And as previously mentioned, I am so curious about the possibilities of socks. I want to try out every possible way of making them. This will result in many wonderful pairs of socks, keeping my feet warm and cosy for years — or until I wear them out, which I hear happens fairly quickly with handknits, so this could be a self-perpetuating cycle.
I better get started.*
* No. No! Don’t you encourage me, either. Not just yet. I need to at least try to do that chenille wrap thingy.

3 thoughts on “I lied.

  1. I found it took me a few trial pairs before I found best fit socks for me. I played around with needles sizes and patterns and number of stitches on leg and length of foot. After a few tries I found I like a really neat foot so I use 2.25mm or even 2mm on foot but as I need a lot of give round the ankle and leg I use 2.75mm. I have done top down, toe up, heel flap, short row heels and even worked a toe up gusseted heel. I don’t mind doing toe up and it makes a change but I have to be careful for me as I have a very high instep and short row heels don’t have enough give but they work OK for other people. There is nothing like wearing a pair of handknit socks and when you get the fit perfect they’ll be the best in the world.

  2. I told you it was addictive. I made it my new years resolution last year to learn to knit socks. In the year I ended up knitting around 10 pairs and stashed enough yarn for at least a further 8 pairs and I still keep druling at sock yarn. My current pair are in cahmere from hipknits (which I had a long wait for it to arrive) and started my first non plain pair and have made a mistake. They are sitting there waiting for me to unpick and retackle at the moment. Something for the summer holidays when I don’t have report writing looming over my head.

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