Meet my new stole:
I like very simple things. Clean lines, solid colors, classic styles, black, grey, green, white. Because of this, I tend to knit very simple things: lots of stockinette, plain colors, nothing flashy or terribly stylish. So I’ve ended up with a lot of sweaters and accessories that I love, but that aren’t really impressive to either knitters or non-knitters. There was a big hole in my knitted wardrobe where an impressive piece might go — something that knitters and non-knitters alike would be impressed by.
And ok, maybe Celes isn’t that technically impressive — it got really damn dull toward the end there — but it does exactly what I want it to: it sits prettily around my neck and looks complicated enough that I’m not embarrassed to encounter other knitters while wearing it (like I am when wearing, say, my garter stitch Malabrigo scarf).
Celes represents something else I love: old things. It’s a perfect confluence of simple (repetitive pattern, grey yarn, easily disguised as a scarf) and old (the Shetland lace that inspired Jared’s pattern). And I’d be lying if I said the Scottish heritage of this scarf didn’t tug at my 25% Scottish heartstrings just a little.
I mentioned before that technique-wise, this stole isn’t much to brag about, and I think that’s true for most of you, my talented knitter friends. But it is the first time I ever grafted lace. I knit Eunny Jang’s Print ‘O The Wave for my grandmother a few years ago, but the grafting was intimidating so I left it out, knitting a single panel in one direction. But you know what? Grafting? Totally not scary. At least, not if you’re content with it being visible (and research on the internet has lead me to believe that there is no such thing as completely invisible lace grafting).
This truly crappy photo does a pretty good job of showing you the kitchenered graft:
See? Not terrible, but visible if you’re looking for it (which I would be if I saw another knitter wearing a two-panel stole).
Another technique footnote to this pattern: I will never, EVER, be able to pick up the correct number of stitches. You could hold a gun to my head, threaten my family, burn my books, or even help me count the stitches, and I would still pick up the wrong number. When picking up stitches for the edging of Celes, the pattern told me to pick up 211. I picked up 186. Not a big deal, because I just decreased a few extra times (k3 tog instead 2 at the end of RS of edging rows) to make the total divisible by 6 and made it work. But I do not know where I was supposed to find those extra 25 stitches.
Although none of that really matters because the finished object is beautiful and I am completely in love with it.