Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Done!

Double Digits!

Mittens are so conflicting for me.  They never, ever come out identical, and my control freak nature wars against the injustice.  This is why I prefer to do two-at-once on circ’s--it makes me nuts when they don’t come out exactly like each other.  

Oh, don’t get me wrong, these are close. It’s only the fingertips that really don’t match, but aren’t those the most visual part of any mitten?  Sigh.  And the thumbs, they’re not identical.  Close, but not identical.  

Structurally, I need to reaffirm that these are great mittens.  Nice and snug, warm, well tailored.  

Then, we get to the decorative stitching.  

Let’s just say decorative stitching can never be called a strength of mine.  Granted, this is my first attempt, and I’m reverse-engineering off the product photo, not specific instructions on the pattern.  So, were I not the knitting perfectionist that I am (which is funny, because I’m not a perfectionist in any other area of my life--any psych students want to take a crack at that one?), I could cut myself some slack.  But I don’t.  I want it to look like the photo, not like my handiwork.

Wait a minute, wait a minute, we’re missing the key point here!  There’s something huge to celebrate: there are TWO mittens.  I have a closet of single mittens to attest to the importance of this achievement.  I didn’t make them simultaneously and yet still managed to make both of them!  Hooray!  Given the choice between a perfect single and an imperfect pair, I’ll go with the double digit warmers.  

Next up, we travel to Louisiana...land of alligators, hospitality, and pie.  Ahh.

Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Day 5

S-mitten...

Oh my goodness, aren’t they lovely?  They fit my hand beautifully.  I’m really glad I opted for a flatter, kitchener tip that suits my long fingers.  I can’t stop looking at the clever channeled cuff, imagining those decorative stitches that go in there next.  If I ever loose one of these, there will be no consoling me.  

Yes, they’re snug, but I’ve decided I like them far too much to ever give them away.  I’m even contemplating a second pair out of some colorful alpaca I was given last year in Indianapolis.  I'll widen those up a little so that they're uber-warm and lofty.

These are my best thumbs yet.  Evolutionary, I'll go so far as to say.  Thumb attachments are a tricky business.  They’re like that pesky little gap when you start to turn a sock heel.  All the stitches ought to meet without gaps, but I can never seem to make it happen to my satisfaction.  I invariably end up ensuring there’s a long tail on the thumb cast-on so I can go around with a needle and sew up all those rogue holes.  I tell you, they pop up like some kind of fibrous game of Whack-A-Mole.  Only the truly ninja-knitters nail it.   Like the sock heel nexus (is that the right word for where everything comes together?), when picked up stitches line up in perfection, you know you’re looking at the work of a master.

Okay, so these are not masterful.  They are even a tad rustic, and I probably would have never picked them out in a store.  And yet, I love them just the same, because I made them.  That crafting gave me time and opportunity to appreciate their fine design, their fit, and their warmth.

So no, you can’t have them...but I’m oh-so flattered you asked.

Next up, we apply the decorative stitching!

Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Day 4

Hands down...

Hands are the tedious part of mittens.  You just chug along until you get to the appropriate point to start the decrease.  Cuffs have the excitement of a newly started project, gussets hold the promise of the thumb, but hands?  Well, they’re just the part between the thumb and the finish line.

Now, in some mittens, this is where your pattern gets to show off.  In last year’s spiffy alpaca models, the hand was a collection of fabulous colorwork.  Here, not so much.  All the action in this pattern lays in the wonderful cuffs.

The nice part here is that you can try the mitten on as you go.  It’s a little goofy looking, but gratifying to know the thumb and fingertips are lining up exactly where you want them.  Custom mittens, if you will.

Next up?  The final structural elements: thumb and fingertips.

Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Day 3

Mittens aren’t exactly linear.

  

Unlike socks, where the knitter starts at either the top or bottom and just plows on through, Mittens always need a detour for the thumb.  Gusset or set in--I’ve done both--they always mean knitters need to circle back and enclose the thumb.  

This only enforces the basic truth of sock, glove, and mitten knitting:  reaching an end doesn’t mean you’re done.  Either you’ve reached the end of the hand and you’ve got a thumb to go; or worse yet--you’ve finished the left and you’ve still got the right to go.

Which brings me to an embarrassing admission.  I’m not sure how it happened, but in following the directions for a left mitten I somehow ended up with a right.  I think it had to do with how I handled the fingertip end--I don’t like round-ended mittens so I opted to kitchener stitch it up.  I find the kitchner stitch gives the right balance between a pointed/flat mitten tip and the bunchy drawstring approach.  I suspect this foible means I need to be extra careful which stitches I kitchener (is that a verb?) next.

The fit--even if it is snug--is very nice.  A tailored, close-fitting mitten that doesn’t bunch up or make it impossible to grasp your car keys.  Well done!

Two extra bonuses today:

1) "Colin Smith" and "Gina", according to the trusty random math at Random.org, each of you has won a copy of an Erica O’Rourke novel from our February Authors Who Knit feature--please email me at allie [at] alliepleiter [dot] com with your snail mail address so we can arrange for shipment

2) Here, for your viewing pleasure, is a little non-fiber art: a shot of me at the Chicago Auto Show in a car decorated entirely by Sharpie markers.

Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Day 2

Simply grand...

The mark of a really good pattern designer is that they can take simple skills and wield them for lots of impact.  The cuffs on these mittens are a perfect example.  Knit and purl and the salt and pepper of knitting--as basic as you can get.  Here, however, our designer alternates them, changes direction, and turns them inside out to create a nifty little channel that will hold decorative stitching when we’re done.

It took me a couple of readings--and peering at the photo of the finished object--to realize how all this worked.  Now I’m impressed instead of confused.  Decorative ingenuity aside, this pattern creates a snug cuff, which is something I value in a mitten.  It won’t matter how toasty my fingers are if my wrists are cold and wet.

If you have big hands like mine, you might want to opt for the man’s sizing.  I didn’t, and they’re feeling a little snug (not something I like in mittens).  I’m withholding judgement on how snug until they’re washed and blocked, but I’m making a mental list of mitten-worthy friends for gifting just in case they end up too tight.

They are very wooly without being very scratchy--another high value for me.  I like the feel of this Cascade wool against my bamboo double pointed needles.  A bit on the rustic side (tweedy yarns always feel rustic to me), but with enough style to feel ruggedly artistic rather than woodsy.  Of course, your choice of wool will be the ultimate factor in how they look--I could see these in a black wool with a wildly colored contrast yarn for the stitching.

Next up, I tackle the thumb gusset.  Don't forget, you can still leave a comment (voting for your favorite chocolate) to win one of Erica O'Rourke's books from our February Authors Who Knit episode!

Lovikka Mittens from Three Bags Full - Day 1

Ah, mittens. 

I love them, really I do.  They feel so much friendlier than gloves to me.  Mittens keep our fingers together in cozy codependency, which makes them warmer then gloves, where it’s every digit for themselves.

I must confess, my last pair of mittens--the gorgeous Winter Wonder mitts from FiberWild! was an artistic success, but not a practical one.  Mostly because I’ve never finished the second one.  I need to, because I love them and I’m proud of them.  That mitten’s singularity makes starting this pair from Three Bags Full feel a bit, well, adulterous.  Which is ridiculous.  It’s yarn, not a relationship.  

The whole thing reminds me of this satirical IKEA  commercial:

I admit, I fell for it...feeling sad for a desk lamp left out in the rain.  “You’re crazy--It has no feelings!”  says the guy with the harsh accent. That’s what I keep telling myself as I cast on the cuff of this mitten.  Still, I feel the abandoned mitten’s sad alpaca fuzziness mocking me from the “unfinished projects” drawer.

“You need too much attention” I retort, “I can’t knit you in meetings and busy places.”

If you cared enough to finish what you started, you’d make time, taunts the mitten.

“I want to start these nifty new ones,” I defend.

You felt that way about me once, too, pouts the mitten.

“I’ll get to you, you fibrous nag,” I sneer, ignoring how long it’s been (which is almost a year).

I start rummaging through my circular needle collection to see if I’ve got the right tool to cast on two of these at a time, just to make myself feel better.  Of course, I don’t, and I refuse to let this petulant earlier mitten add unnecessary expense to its current sin of guilting me out.

Honestly people, I need to make more HUMAN friends.