Purposefully taking scissors to my knitting is the most intimidating thing I’ve ever done, and it wasn’t even part of the original design.
Wool & Pine is a Pacific Northwest-based design duo best known for their stash-busting patterns, providing intricate means of using up the bits and bobs of leftover yarn that accumulate in one’s collection.
The Stowaway Sweater is a DK-weight drop-shoulder design with a plain body, accented with gorgeous colourwork sleeves and kangaroo pocket. However, the ribbed crew neckline felt a little too understated for my taste, and with a nagging hodgepodge of yarn on my hands I wanted to do something a little extra. So I added a hood using colourwork charts from the sleeves and pocket, and steeks.
Steeking is a knitting technique that involves securing stitches before cutting them open, and gets its name from the Proto-Germanic word “stekan”, which means “to stab, stick, or put inside.” While the origin is somewhat convoluted, I assume it comes from some of the methods to secure stitches (like sewing or felting) before making the big snip, or from the fact that a properly-steeked edge will roll in on itself.
“Properly” being the operative word here.
I was extremely proud of how far my stranded colourwork skills have come over the years, excitedly working up a tube and stacking designs until it could stretch over my head. Seasoned steekers will already see what’s wrong with this picture, but I remained blissfully, confidently ignorant.
I thought the colourwork sections on either side of the centre line were wide enough to hold themselves in place, and that the crochet reinforcement would be sufficient support. I was very, very wrong.
My scissors snipped beautifully along between the green reinforcement chains, I was so pleased with myself. For about 30 seconds.
The colourwork motifs were, in fact, not enough on their own, and the edges quickly began slipping out of the crochet chain. Weeks of work fell apart before my eyes, beyond saving.
I was distraught, but determined to make my vision work. So I turned to Reddit’s r/Knittinghelp community, and the users there helped me understand the myriad ways I went wrong: I needed a wide bridge of steek stitches — 5-7 stitches on either side separating my colourwork from the point where I’d be cutting, and my stash of mostly superwash merino was likely too slippery to hold on after the snip.
I did what I should have done in the first place, and practiced. A lot. My half of the coffee table strewn with little swatches as I troubleshooted. I also broke my self-imposed yarn-buying ban and picked up a skein of ‘grippy’ wool, a Peruvian Highland and alpaca blend.
The moment of truth finally came about a month later. I had never handled scissors more carefully in my life, and to my utter relief and delight, it worked!
Despite all the trial and error, f*cking around and finding out, I have the warmest, coziest, most beautiful hoodie of my dreams at last.
