It is a 100% joymaker to see all the Carbeths crossing the finish line for #BangOutaCarbeth. Mylar blankets for all! Wish we had medals to hand out, but maybe it’s enough to have an instant handknit sweater to wear. I know I’m feeling pretty smug.
I have been wearing my Carbeth all weekend long, after a thrilling finale in the Blocking Parlour during which I took Kate Davies’s advice and blocked the collar with a dinner plate.
It turns out I needed a full-size 11″ dinner plate to get the collar I was looking for.
When I posted this photo on Instagram, I got some questions about the china pattern. It’s my mom’s china she bought after her divorce—nothing says cleaning house like a new set of dishes! For the china-curious, here it is:
It’s Wedgwood Old Chelsea. It has a whimsical bird in there, and some botanical weirdies.
I have used these dishes daily since the 1980s, so at this point they’re like having an African Gray parrot—a fixture in my life with no foreseeable end in sight. I mean: I love these dishes. But I also love other dishes, ones that are not like these dishes. I have restocked the Plates of Mom numerous times over the years, to the point that I will chuckle with glee when some kind dude in Charleston is deaccessioning his dearly departed mom’s completely unused set of Old Chelsea. There are people in my family who find these dishes overpowering in their associations with my mom. (“These are bringing me down.” “Oh wow, the Plates of Mom.” We’re all still sad about Mom 34 years after she floated up to the great china shop in the sky!) At this point, I’ve broken so many and microwaved the hell out of them enough that they aren’t haunted to me.
Why am I going on about these dishes? Why don’t I show you how my Carbeth turned out?
Here you go!
No, I haven’t made it out to our local lake yet for a scenic photo shoot. I really do apologize for this photo—I was not leaning like the Tower of Pisa, but it sure came out that way. Rough weekend, what can I say? I’m posting it anyway because I’m on a mission here. At this crucial juncture of our knitalong, where fellow knitters are making life-and-death decisions about how long to make the torso of their Carbeths, I share this in the interest of adding yet another knitter’s data point on How Long A Torso.
This is 10″ of torso. I am very short waisted, yet 5′ 10″ tall. My waist is basically about one inch south of the bustular zone. OK I’m exaggerating but not by much. I was in a bit of a quandary as to how long to make the torso. Would it be failure to crop if I added length? What if I added too much and it looked saggy and/or too much?
I decided to add 2″, based on the barometric pressure on that day and just a basic gut feeling that an 8″ torso would be tragic on me.
It is so soft that I feel the need to whisper when I’m around this sweater. It is in no way a barn-ready garment. The merino/cashmere Shibui Drift is as tender as can be. I’ve never had a sweater that feels like this.
Dying to cast on another one.