Patience is indeed a virtue that knitting forces you to acquire. Case in point: this pink sweater. I originally bought some lovely tweed Garnstudio wool for the Juliet vest. I knit the vest from the top to 3 inches from the bottom before I realized I hated it. So, knowing that the wool was too nice to waste, I patiently unravelled the garment and wound the wool back into balls. Next up, I tried a top-down cardigan for Sadie using 3 yr old sizing from an online pattern. This time, I got 3 inches below the underarm before I thought, "hmm, this seems big, let's see if it fits me". Unfortunately, I was right and it was miles too big for Sadie. For the second time, I unravelled a garment and wound the wool back into balls. On to attempt number three: a top-down raglan sweater for Sadie, using a random number of stitches for the neck (I know, I know...I was getting loopy and obviously making poor decisions). I didn't get nearly as far before I realized it was too big again. Thank goodness the fourth time was a charm.
I can hardly believe how patient knitting has made me. I could really use a dose of patience at work these days, but for now I'll simply marvel at the power knitting has to change behavior. The secret to my fourth attempt was to do a bottom-up raglan, using the sizing from a Debbie Bliss pattern (ultimately, her patterns feel trustworthy). I tried a folded hem, but left the neck and cuffs as a rolled edge. The wool is lovely, but I've been told to wash it a few times for it to really soften up. And Sadie looks so great in this pink - as much as I bought it for myself, I could never have pulled it off. I found a great pair of pink cords for her that are the exact shade, so when the cool weather hits she'll be pretty in pink.
Now that this sweater is finally done - and really, I feel like I've been knitting this for months - I'm trying the Juliet vest again with a dark purple Debbie Bliss Luxury Tweed. My fingers are crossed that it will work this time. So far so good...but I still haven't tried it on. See? I may have learned patience, but I haven't learned from past experience. Or maybe I'm just addicted to unravelling.