Did you see those stunning Bijouterie earrings in the latest issue of Knitty? Weren’t they gorgeous?
Now, picture an entire book filled with equally beautiful knitted jewelry, all from the same, talented mind.
Yes. Exactly. Beautiful stuff. Do I need to say more?
Oh, really? Seriously? You want more?
Okay. This book is all about jewelry–knitted and crocheted jewelry. And almost without exception, I love just about everything in here. (And the couple of patterns I don’t love, I still like.) There’s nothing in here that’s ugly or ill-thought out. Nothing bulky or trite. It’s creative, and lovely.
When you can’t find what you need, you make it yourself, right? As knitters, we all understand that impulse–a chance to get exactly what we want in the color, size, shape, fiber that we want. Sometimes, you just have to do it yourself.
Well, that’s more or less what happened to Cheryl Brunette.
Part of the excellent “Teach Yourself Visually” series, this book has a lot of what you’d expect–first, and foremost, lots of pictures. Just about every stitch, every method, every step along the way gets a photo or an illustration, so you’re not left guessing as to what, exactly, you need to do to line your knitted bag, or what a sock’s heel flap should look like. As you’d expect, the pictures are clear and basic. Not fancy, “art” shots that wouldn’t really show you the details you need, but simple, bread-and-butter pictures that do the job.
This book, despite its title, is not about knitting in the nude. No, no. (Even the Amazon description says, “No, not that kind of stripping. Strips of fabric! Get your mind out of the gutter….”) The book is all about knitting–not with yarn–but with strips of fabric.
The author writes in the preface: “I wanted something unique, different, and interesting, yet not completely out of the norm. Simple, straight-cut strips of fabric were tied together to make fabric-yarn that was knit into a scarf and two pillows. And that was the beginning of a craze. I embarked on a most incredible year of exploration and learning.”
I’ve wanted this book since I read the subtitle, “An Exploration of Knitted Cabled Knots, Rings, Swirls, and Curlicues.” That pretty much sums up the appeal of cables for me–that intricate interweaving playfulness as they wind around–and I think it’s clear that Melissa Leapman likes them for the same reason.
It’s an exploration of what cables are and how they work. Why a cross is different than a twist. The different results when you knit all the cabled stitches, or when you purl some of them. What happens when you reverse all of them, or do a complete, 180-degree twist? The author explores all these questions, in detail, and with great illustrations.
There are two things I need to tell you first. One, is that there are two editions of this book, since Interweave Press nicely saved it from its dreaded out-of-print state. And, two, I own a copy of both editions. This should pretty much tell you right off the bat that I like this book. Or that, really, I love this book. My very first attempt at lace was inspired by this book. So, it’s possible that I might be just a little biased.
Just looking at the Table of Contents should pretty much reinforce that this book on finishing techniques is covering pretty much everything you could hope for. I can’t honestly say that I can think of something obvious that was left out. There are some other ways of casting-on, for example, but the 7 most common are here (Long-tail, Knitted-on, Cable, Picot, Chained, Tubular, and Provisional). So, instead of giving you a page-by-page recap of what’s included, how about a nice overview?
As comprehensive knitting references go, it’s hard to beat this one. Vogue Knitting, in fact, is so nice, they produced it twice–the orignal version came out in 1989, and they revised and updated it in 2002. I got my original copy as a Christmas gift in 1989. I had only been knitting for a year or so and hadn’t yet tackled cables or lace, and barely new what intarsia was, and this book was a door-opener. I basically knitted my way through the book. While the rest of the family took post-turkey dinner naps, I sat with the book, a pair of knitting needles and some yarn, giving a try to each new concept as it came up. Cables? Hmm, let’s try that. Lace? Let’s see, yarn over, knit-two-together … I can do that. It was completely rewarding and enlightening at the same time. By the time I’d gotten through the book, I felt prepared to tackle just about anything.