Front Neck Extensions: Necessary Nuisances

Reader alert: The following is purely tech talk.  Casual or non-crocheting readers may skip this post. :-)

It ain't gene splicing.  It's Foundation Single Crochet (Fsc) splicing, and it's a handy way to create more fabric at the fronts of a garment while keeping the right-hand and left-hand fronts looking exactly the same.  I've been fielding a few questions from crocheters concerning this technique and fervently pray that the following exercise will help clear up some of your issues.

Many garment designs fit better if the front neck is lower than the back neck.  There are other ways of creating this front neck drop, but I really believe the method offered here gives the most balanced result.  Many of my garment designs are crocheted seamlessly from the top down beginning with a back neck foundation.  From the foundation, the yoke grows as it goes, with increases in stitch pattern that create raglan-type shoulder shaping.  Once you get to the level where you want the front neck to lie, it is necessary to add pattern repeats at each front neck edge.  My method requires you to finish off a row, then start the next row with new yarn, beginning the new row with a short foundation, splicing into the working row on the yoke, then ending the row with a short foundation.  I call these bits of foundation "front neck extensions".  I could have called them "pangalacticgargleblasters", but that word already has a totally different usage and although the term is highly descriptive, it is not descriptive enough of the crochet technique.  So "front neck extensions" it is.

Here's an example.  Those who know me will be totally astounded that I swatched something.  Those who know me too well will know why I did it.  This is the cardigan design Cinnabar, from the book Everyday Crochet.  You are seeing the Yoke for size 40 through Round 3.

The blue things are wrapped yarn markers, anchored into the back neck foundation, flipped back and forth across the rows as you work them, marking the four increase points or "corners" of the yoke.  At this point you fasten off.  End the yarn.  Take out your scissors and cut that sucker loose.

With new yarn, make the Fsc required, then return to the piece, go along and work across the row as if nothing happened.  When you get to the other end, use your Fsc skills to add another little length of foundation.

In the following row (not shown, because I do have a life), you will fill in the front neck foundations with some stitch pattern, in this case V's and Shells.  You now have the start of a round-neck cardigan yoke that is lower in the front neck, with right-hand and left-hand edges that can meet at the center front.  It all looks wonky right now, but trust me.  Once you finish that neck edge with some stitches or trim it will be beautifully and symmetrically rounded.

In Love With Dove

Those who know me too well might assume that Dove in the title refers to the Mars brand confections. And although I would never refuse any smooth, sweet foil-wrapped pillows of Dove chocolate (or a Dove ice cream bar), those delicacies are the topic for another day. So get your minds out of the candy aisle.

This is Tahki Dove, new for this season and available in a sophisticated palette of shades as delicious as the candy. Dove works to worsted gauge, but the staggering 163 yards (150 m) per 1.75 ounce (50 g) ball (twice as much yardage as other traditional worsted weight yarns) tells you the story. This is incredibly lightweight stuff. The magic is in the construction. Dove has a teeny nylon chain at its core, which provides strength and stability. This air-core is Z-twist wrapped with a sumptuous blend of extrafine Merino wool and alpaca. Dove looks and behaves like a single (yarn that is not plied, but spun as one strand) and has a soft, fulled appearance while offering amazing stitch definition. That might sound like a contradiction, crocheted fabric that is both fuzzy and defined. But take a close look at the stitch pattern in the "Unchain My Heart" tunic. How gorgeous is that?

Dove's airiness is a boon for crocheters who wish to make garments in larger sizes. This tunic requires a mere 10 ounces or so of yarn (6 balls) for a size 2X (52" finished bust).

The patterns for both Dove designs, the "Unchain My Heart" tunic and the "Hooked on a Feeling" shrug are available for purchase as E-patterns from Tahki Stacy Charles.

And, coming soon in the winter issue of Interweave Crochet, look for another design in Dove that is a major contender in the category "stylish warmth without weight".

The Deer or the Hairpin?

My crochet life chugs along nicely. I sweat a gang of design projects and patterns, agonize over new crochet proposals, tinker with yarns and tools, write a few lines here and there, terrorize a few editors just for fun. Any breaks from these activities are for the mundane chores of my life-outside-crochet. Like eating. Sleeping. Treating my hair to the most magical leave-in serum on the planet. Vacuuming dog fur. Eating. Laundry. Nothing exciting here.

Tonight, two extraordinary things happened. I am still reeling over the experiences and am not sure which was worse.

It began as what I planned to be a quiet but busy night at home finishing up a design. I thought I had enough sets of hooks and eyes for a jacket front closure. UH-OH. I tossed the place searching for the ones I'd squirreled away the last time I needed them. I found three sets. Shoot. This jacket must have five, and it has to ship in the morning. The nearest purveyor of such things, the place I am reasonably sure will have in stock what I so desperately require tonight, is a craft store eight miles away. For me, this is a road trip.

How I cherish autumn evenings. There's a luscious quality to the air and the light at dusk that I simply can't get enough of. So I am tooling along at well past 7 pm, headlights slicing into the dimness of the wooded, winding road I must travel to get to the Valhalla, the shining place where sewing notion dreams are made real.

O-M-G, I clipped a deer. I swear I was watching for wildlife. This season I've already seen so much roadkill that I could cry. By my ghoulish count I have mourned for dozens of possum, raccoons, skunks ("...stinkin' to high heaven!"). But tonight I was focused on my own side of the road, not the side with oncoming traffic. The deer leaped across the road from the left and mercifully kept on leaping, for had she frozen and gone tharn in the glare of my headlights, she would have been a goner and my automobile a sad wreck.

She (for in that flash of brown hide, white belly and huge gleaming eyes, I noticed no antlers) was the size of a big dog and stunningly agile. I barely had time to glance into the rearview mirror to make sure no one was on my tail before I braked hard. YIKES! I heard a soft clunk as she bounded past and out of the headlight beam. A sickening sort of soft clunk. Maybe she kicked out with her hoof as she ran. Please tell me what I heard was the sound of hoof meets bumper. By the time I whipped my head around to follow her flight, she had disappeared into the tangle of trees.

I wanted to stop and see if she was OK. There were cars behind me, no shoulder in the road, and no option for me but to keep driving and try to stop worrying. It wasn't until I pulled into a well-lit space of the parking lot at the craft store that I could breathe again and examine my car. In my mind I tried to reconstruct the incident. I could find no evidence that it had ever happened. I began to wonder, had it really happened?

How I love shopping at night when the stores are empty save for the other night-persons who also like to shop at night when the stores are empty. By the time I had thrown the hooks and eyes and some matching sewing thread into the hand-basket I wasn't feeling the need to rush home. So I did a recreational fly-by in the yarn aisles.

Hey! A new hairpin loom was in stock, calling to me. It's from Boye, features clip-on spacer bars, is adjustable up to 4 inches and includes an I-9 crochet hook. $5.99. WTF. I threw one into the basket. I will offer a review here eventually.

The checkout line was empty. The checkout person, a twenty-something girl with goth-black braids and only half-heartedly concealed tats and piercings, was friendly and chatty. Probably bored. So when she picked up the hairpin loom to scan it, she asked me if it was hard to do. I hemmed and waffled. Heck, I really did not want to get into a dissertation about hairpin at that hour. But I finally admitted that hairpin could be annoying if you have to make long strips.

During the bit of conversation that followed, she revealed that she had volunteered to demonstrate this tool for a Saturday store event in a couple of weeks. There were instructions on the back and inside of the packaging and she felt confident that she could master this stuff by then. I tried to explain how the task of making hairpin strips was only the very beginning, and that she would need to choose among the million thousand ways of joining strips in order to create fabric. I pointed out the crochet hook in the package. She shot me a surprised look. Crochet? She doesn't know how to crochet.

I had to restrain myself to keep from climbing over the counter and grabbing her by the braids. What were you thinking, girl? Obviously, nobody at this store, at least not the manager who was coordinating and staffing this Saturday event, knows that hairpin is a crochet technique. My cashier thinks that maybe there is someone here who crochets, but she's not sure. So she's going to be the designated demonstrator.

I paid up and hurried out of the store. On another day, in another life, I might have stopped at customer service and asked to speak to the manager. How can you hope to show customers the delirious beauty of hairpin crochet if you don't have a crocheter there, I would rail. How can you be so ignorant (oops, that's too harsh, even for a rant... I mean uninformed), I would rant. You are not doing hairpin or crochet the service they are due, I would scream. In another reality, I might have volunteered to do the demonstration myself, just to ease the knots in my stomach.

So, which event strikes me as the most horrifying? The deer... or the hairpin. Deer or hairpin. Deer or hairpin.

Naked Crochet

Thought that might get your attention! :-)

This could rank as the coolest thing that ever happened to any of my crochet designs. And to think it's all Jan's fault. Jan, an online friend from Ravelry.com and one of the most energetic and dedicated members of the posse, and her group of wildly creative (and just plain wild) fiberazzi in Northern UK, the Knitting Noras, have gone where few have dared. Following in the tradition of the Calendar Girls, the Noras have produced a 2010 naked knitting calendar. That news in itself would be totally brilliant. But just take a look at the cover (un-cover) garment.

Yup. I did a double-take... it's the Caron Crochet Lacy Duster. I admit, I'm not used to seeing it worn quite this way, but WOWSERS! I totally approve. Jan not only crocheted this duster plus many other garments for the shoot, but she herself graces the calendar as Miss November.

The calendar is available for order and the proceeds will benefit the Christie Cancer Hospital. I can't wait to get mine. Cheers for Jan and the Noras! Brava!

PATTERN EXTRA: Lacy Top Cardi Adjustments

OK. This was not as big a problem as I anticipated. What follows is crochet tech talk, strictly for readers who have requested a way to crochet the Lacy Top Cardigan with deeper armholes to fit. Everyone else will still have to wait for a happier post! :-)

As I have mentioned in "Amazing Crochet Lace" and elsewhere, top-down garment construction allows you to try on the piece while you are crocheting. This is never an orderly fit. It is my experience that the body, particularly across the back, will seem sloppy and loose, while the underarm and armholes may feel tight and too high. Please consider that the fabric has a good deal of stretch, that crocheting the rest of the garment (particularly adding sleeves) will surely change the fit, and that blocking usually pulls everything longer. However, upon examining this pattern, I can see why you might want more breathing room in the armhole, particularly in the two larger sizes, L/XL (45) and 2XL (50). So here's what I think.

Mercifully, all sizes complete the front neck shaping and the yoke increases before this adjustment happens. This lace stitch pattern has a four row repeat. The simplest way to add depth to the armhole without changing either the bust or sleeve circumference (once you have completed all shaping at fronts and corners, and before joining fronts and back at underarms) is to work four rows even in stitch pattern, putting you back at the same step. At that point you are ready to join the underarms in exactly the same way as written. However, four rows at this relaxed gauge will drop the underarm by approximately three inches. This will work well for the sizes L/XL (45) and 2XL (50). But may be too disproportionate for sizes XS (35) and S/M (40). I will address that later with a more involved solution.

Please refer to the pattern as published, as discussed in this post on July 8. To add 3" to the yoke (armhole) depth, follow pattern as written, stop after Row 8 (9, 10, 10). Insert these four rows.
Size XS: Work Pat Row 4, then Pat Rows 1-3.
Size S/M: Work Pat Rows 1-4.
Sizes L/XL (2XL): Work Pat Rows 2-4, then Pat Row 1.
Return to instructions as written, continue with Row 9 (10, 11, 11)

Coming soon, pattern extras to grant deeper (but not this deep) armholes and a way to create more ease for generous upper arms without changing the bust circumference.

Tirade #5

Or is it # 4? Whatever. Reader, beware. The following tirade is not for the crochet dilettante. Crochet obsessed only read on. Everyone else can chalk this up to my being crabby and old and wait for the next happy post.

Pattern grading, or the task of extrapolating and writing crochet garment pattern instructions in multiple sizes, is a big pain in the butt. Universally, it is considered the worst part of a design job. Any designer who claims otherwise is either 1) fooling him/herself, 2) being paid so fracking much that he/she can ignore the pain, 3) being paid so much that he/she can turn around and pay someone else to do the grunt work, or 4) lying.

Pattern grading is SO awful that the term has seeped into crochet-designer-speak as a codeword for the worst possible case nightmare scenario. For example, if I were to ask, "How did that hip replacement surgery go?", the reply "Not as bad as pattern grading" could be expected and understood.

In my job I make one real life crocheted garment sample, a singular and perfect thing, a joy to create and behold. Then I am obliged to beat my head against the wall until that sample is interpreted as a set of clear, concise crochet instructions for up to six sizes. My brain and temperament are well suited to the former task and not one iota interested in the latter. At the crux of the matter is the fact that I suck at counting. Who wants to get bogged down in the specific numbers? Does that raglan shoulder shaping increase mathematically, geometrically, exponentially? How many stitch repeats will that mean in size 2XL?

I'm a crocheter, not an actuary. My son is an actuary. He spends his working life in a cubicle (real or virtual) crunching numbers. He researches, compiles, and interprets statistical models, charts and reports filled with correlated, corresponding, codependent, confusing data supplied by clients concerning real life people. I think he enjoys his job in a scary, geeky way. I sometimes wonder if he is indeed my son, know what I'm saying? Just kidding, Nick.

Do you know that there are crochet designers who aren't required to produce a single garment sample, write a single word or crunch a single armhole depth? These exhalted few need only supply a sketch and a stitch swatch in order to get money for a design. As wonderful as this sounds, I wouldn't want to live there. The physical act of working with hook and yarn, the challenge of shaping and finishing each new garment concept, the satisfaction of turning the purely imagined into something tangible and wearable, these are priceless jewels, the rewards of my job. I would not, could not, delegate/relegate them to another crocheter. And since each project is a unique piece of me, I can't hand over the nasty bits either, the writing and sizing, even though that would make my life a lot happier.

Now that you know I am not by nature a number cruncher, you can understand how I have no simple solutions to the problems of pattern grading or the alteration of existing pattern sizes to accommodate other than average proportions. I can't point you to a fancy software program or a secret formula. I have no magic bullet. Everything I know about this subject I learned the hard way, through experience, time, trial and error.

We designers are admonished by our professional peers to never give anything away for free, not of our work or of our expertise. Our time and talents are valuable, I am scolded, so don't offer free pattern support. You did your job, got paid. Done. But I am often asked by crocheters, readers and fans for advice. In order for them to get happy results I'd have to completely rework, rewrite and reinterpret, row by row, major sections of the pattern grading. How can I make this top longer, is it possible to shape the waistline, I need deeper armholes, these sleeves are too tight, my neckine is too loose, I have too many shell repeats, what the frack is a Yoke Row, help, help, HELP!

And I do. Help people. Dispense free pattern support. All the time. It's a little about being well-thought-of by my readers. I don't mind being the hero in these situations. But it is a LOT about spreading the joy. Once you help a fellow crocheter get unstuck, reach that genuine "AH-HA!" moment and eventually finish a project that fits well, looks great and gets plenty of admiration, the satisfaction is not just on her part. That's part of my own job satisfaction, is it not?

So what I am getting at is, in a while, in response to readers, I will take the time to post a little pattern extra that concerns the Lacy Top Cardigan.

Mom and Me

When did I become my mom? It happened so gradually and sneakily. All those adolescent years I railed, ranted and rebelled over the steady, calming oversight she unstintingly provided as I grew into my independence, all those moments I totally resented being parented, all came into extreme focus in Buffalo at CGOA Chain Link. Because I spent one whole day mothering my mother.

She has only functional abilities in English, only the merest glimmer of the many things I have written about her and no idea at all of the resulting notoriety she owns among my friends and fans. There had never before been an opportunity for me to introduce Mom to my crochet world. She is even less happy with traveling than I am, and can hardly be coaxed out of her comfy home except for the weekly line dancing classes with her senior groups. And the ritual bus trips to Atlantic City to commune with her favorite penny slots.

Finally, earlier this month at the event of events for the crochet community, I brought along my mom. We road tripped the 9 hour drive together, with me driving and Mom dispensing coffee, snacks and running commentary. She stayed at my brother's home not far from downtown Buffalo, and mercifully not with me at the venue hotel. Relationships between mothers and daughters aren't always easy. I envy those women who can honestly say that they could spend time in close quarters with their moms and not go stark mad. I expected the worst. What I got was a revelation. Illumination.

You know how parents are advised to really listen to their kids. Well, for the first time in many years I had an opportunity to truly listen to my mom. I didn't make her hang with me the entire week of the conference since I anticipated I'd be running around taking care of the business of eventing. I set up a schedule for her one day visit to the convention center. I tried to anticipate her needs, play on her interests, make her feel comfortable among so many ardent and loud strangers. I went so far as to draft my friends as watchdogs to show her around while I was busy and couldn't just play, for fear that she might wander off alone and feel lost. In other words, I was mothering her. I needn't have worried.

Here we are minutes after her arrival downtown. She chatted easily with Tammy ("Sammy") Hildebrand on her right and with Vashti Braha on her left at the Coffee Spot where we gathered on Friday morning.

These two photos courtesy of Vashti.

She charmed all my friends being her adorable self, without my shepherding, without my running interference, without translation. She shopped the market on her own, purchasing a gaggle of beaded bracelets that will surely wow the crowd at line dance class. She examined every entry in the 2009 CGOA Design Contest and voted for her Peoples' Choice. She voted twice, actually. Her sentimental choice was, now that I can report her transgression without repercussions, the pretty pink freeform vest designed by her new friend (and my best conference mate) Diane Moyer.

Hokey Smokes! That is so ME... voting two times, that's something I would have done had I not been one of the official judges! She sat in with me for the last hour of Dee Stanziano's PushmiPullyu class, and although I doubt she understood what was being taught, still she made friends with class members. She attended the CGOA membership meeting that evening and circulated with me during Drew "Mr. Hospitality" Emborsky's New Member welcoming party after the general meeting. She even got to chatter in Japanese with my new friends Kang and Kazue, the reps from Tulip Co.

Kang, Mom and Me at dinner Friday night, photo by Kazue

During the long road trip home (isn't it strange how the trip home always seems so much longer than the trip there?) I not only listened to Mom, I also really looked at her and for the first time in many years, I saw her. She is me. I am she. OK, I actually have more gray hair than Mom does. And she is majorly partial to bling, whereas I am not. But you can see what I mean, huh?