Killing a sweater

Sometimes there are things that just never work out. Three years ago I knitted a sweater for the Husband that he loved – a plain stocking stitch baggy sweater with a roll collar – out of Sirdar Peru. So far so good.

Then I knitted another one out of Paton’s Eco Wool. It didn’t go right from the very beginning – I had a puddle a mile wide in the back that I frogged and reknit using alternate balls of yarn.

Still, it got finished and there it was, another sweater. But it never looked right, and although it got worn very dutifully, it was never what you might call popular. And secretly I must have really hated it, because I washed it yesterday, and although I would have sworn black and blue that it went on a cold wool wash, it came out of the washing machine this morning looking rather different:

Bear in mind that yesterday it was the same size as the red one. It might fit a child if the child didn’t mind not being able to move their arms all that much.

So that solves that one – the Sweater That Never Worked is now defunct. And I can stop feeling guilty about the 10 balls of Sirdar Peru in a lovely purple that I bought on ebay – now it’s going to be a replacement sweater! Anyone know what to do with a few square feet of felted wool? And does anyone want the remaining¬†five balls of Paton’s Eco Wool??


Puddle duly diluted. It’s not gone altogether but it makes sense that if one ball fell into a certain pattern then two would fall into that pattern half as much.

Diluted puddle

Still not happy about the single-row stripes, but I think I may just have to live with it.

Puddle and blotch

The Husband’s new chunky sweater had been coming along nicely – Paton’s Eco Wool in chunky dark grey, a piece-of-cake pattern that I’d done before so could rattle through on auto-knit while watching a film… all good. Then this:

It puddled as soon as I started the decreases for the armholes. Then stopped once the decreases reduced to the point where the rhythm of the variegation matched the stitch number. I knitted through the puddle, reciting “it doesn’t matter, it’s part of the fun of knitting with variegated yarn”. But when I’d finished I just couldn’t bear it.¬† Also, if I’m being picky,you can see that where the variegation does happen around the central blotch, the stripes have become single-row rather than double, then gone back to double.

And so I ripped it back. There’s a method for stopping puddling (hopefully) – you knit with two different balls of yarn and alternate them, so I’m going to try that.

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