Showing posts with label slouch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label slouch. Show all posts

Monday, March 4, 2013

Smocked Slouch from Genuine Purl - Day 5


Closing in...

I’ve finished the prescribed rows of stockinette, and am starting the decreases needed to make the crown of this hat.  Decrease rows are always fun, because you pick up momentum as the rounds get shorter and shorter.  You’re rounding the last corner, careening toward the finish line, and that’s always fun.

I never truly get a sense of a hat’s shape until the decrease rows.  Mathematically, it’s a small percentage of the hat, but it seems to dictate shape almost more than the band does.  Perhaps that’s because it’s so visible.  Or just that the structure takes its cues so strongly from the crown.  That’s not a bad thing; it strengthens the creative process of making a hat--you’re never really done until you’re done.

I’ll admit, doubts are creeping in about my extra-slouchy choice.  I look at this hat and it looks, well, roomy.  Not sloppy, just slouchy.  Aptly named, I guess.  One thing I’ll say for this design and this yarn; this is a cozy hat.  It’s warm without being bulky or hair-smushing.  

Come on, northern girls, you know what I mean--most knitted hats can ruin a hairstyle in ten minutes flat.  You get inside a restaurant and remove your fetching headwear only to find your bangs plastered to your forehead and the volume sucked out of your hair.  Not to mention enough static to power a small country off your noggin.  This one sits far enough back on your head (if the style magazine instructions are to be believed) that my hair might just survive the day.

That alone would be a deal-maker for me any day.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Smocked Slouch from Genuine Purl - Day 3

Ever wonder?

I admit it...I don’t always act my age.  I’m fifty, and I’ll be the first to tell you I’ve got all the charming medical issues that come with that...um...seasoned chronology.  

In my head and my heart, I’m a young fifty.  I want to be that spry 80 year old everyone looks up to.  I want to keep my adventurous spirit and my zest for life.  Now if only someone would tell that to my circulatory, digestive, and skeletal systems.

Working on this pattern, I began to take special notice of the hats around me.  I’ve worn watch caps, stocking caps, and berets, but I’ve never work a “slouch.”  The more I looked, the more it seemed to be the purvey of...dare I say it...younger folk.  People who instagram, who sleep with their earbuds in, and have never known the joys of a rotary phone.  In other words--despite the magazine test my son had me take recently that declared me a “hipster” whatever that is--not me.

As I move away from the headband and work my way through the stockinette increases--nice and zippy, by the way--my doubts increase along with the stitches.  I love the color of this hat.  I love the feel of the yarn.  I love how soft and warm it is.  Should I finish it and discover no one my age wears a slouch, I shall be annoyed.  
But maybe I’ll discover my defiant streak.

Hey, I’ve got a friend who got a tattoo for her 50th.  Maybe I will take up the slouch.

I’ve done odder things...