I’ll admit it; I started to despair at the idea of sitting through another plain sock (well, a pair of socks). I cast on my toes and frowned at the mini foot-hat I’d started with, trying to figure out what shape the yarn wanted to take.
“Ooh,” Mum cooed, excited at a chance to act like a librarian, “I’ll have a look through the books for a nice pattern.” (I’d given up explaining the point of Ravelry a long time ago.)
I scowled and twitched my nose and explained that patterned socks don’t really work with strong variegations. They’re too busy – at best one gets lost in the other, at worst they openly clash like Soccer Moms at a PTA meeting.
Nonetheless, Mum flicked through her books, calling out ideas. “Cables?”
The stripes ruin the illusion of the twist.
Not hardwearing enough for my boots, and much the same problem as the cables.
Not again. Not after February…
I tuned her out and looked again at my yarn. They best thing, I decided, was for the pattern to work directly with the yarn. I’d toyed with the idea of interactive patterns before, say purling all of one colour on a busy colour way, but decided it would take too much attention.
The colours worked well together, but were a bit too strong to really go side-by side. They needed easing in a little bit, breaking up somehow… slip stitch felt like too much effort.
I tinked back about ten stitches of pink and purled over the top of the sock, then sat back and looked at it.
“Done. I’ve picked a pattern.”
Mum looked up from her book, politely disappointed. “Oh. Oh Good.”
Something about the slightly washed-out shades reminds me of denim and tie-dye, and those hippy rainbow coats with the seams on the outside. It makes me think about the weather slowly growing warmer, of people putting away their winter coats and bringing out something thinner, brighter, less waterproof.
I like it.