Mixing Things up for a Sweater
words and photos by: Johanna Carter
I always admire those who are able to spin mountains of yarn for a big project, ready to knit a wonderful sweater or cardigan. It is a satisfying feeling when you finish all that work, especially if you started with washing and combing the wool or even raising your own sheep.
Mixing spinning and knitting
The typical way to work through a larger project is to spin all the singles first and ply them in a particular order so you get the yarn even throughout the whole project. I don’t have so many bobbins, but my bigger problem is that I am quite impatient and want to get on with knitting once I have an idea. And normally, my brain is full of ideas for fibre work and the limit is the time, as I am a musician and teacher. I can’t sit at the spinning wheel for a long time if I’m not on holiday, so during the school year I mostly knit, and during the holidays I can dye, spin, use my drum carder, and do lots of fibre work. The only time I was able to produce bigger quantities of yarn before I knitted them up was during the Tour de Fleece in the two years during the pandemic, when we did not go on holiday at the beginning of July.
A highly photogenic collection of naturally dyed fibres.
I like to finish knitting one big project like a sweater or cardigan before I start the next one, or at least until I can’t carry it in my bag easily anymore, so I have an excuse to begin the next one. Sometimes it is good to have a second project on the go – I call it mindless knitting, where I don’t have to look very much – which I can keep my hands busy during Zoom or other meetings, which helps me listen.
Mixing colours and fibres
Usually I dye my yarn with plants which I collect in the woods or get from garden flowers. I also use cochineal and indigo, which I buy, to get lots of different colours. I really love the greens and blues I get from dyeing with indigo. I have lots of dyed wool, and all those colours give me inspiration for further projects.
Beautiful greens and blues dyed by the author using indigo and other natural dyes.
Blending the wool on the drum carder I can get even more shades. I like to blend with fibres like silk, alpaca, or plant fibres, and I love sari silk, to get those little bits of colour in my yarn.
Fibres of different types and colours are blended on a drum carder for elegant results.
When I have an idea for the next sweater, I start carding, and then I can begin to spin. Once I have spun enough yarn – say, for one day – I cast on and start knitting, usually top down, so I don’t have to decide too much in advance about length and width.
An idea for the author’s next sweater in the gathering stages.
When I spin on my wheel, I have to sit at home, but while spinning I can read a book or talk to others during online meetings. I also like to spin on my spindles, and that works on a walk, or a museum visit. I take them on holiday as they don’t need much space, and when I spin for a lace shawl, I don’t even need much wool either. At home there are spindles all over the place; I can spin when I am waiting for the kettle to boil, when the computer is slow, when I am cooking. Like that I can make good use of a short time and the yarn still grows.
Knitting as soon as the yarn is spun helps the author complete sweater projects in a timely manner.
I can take my knitting almost everywhere, which is why I don’t want to wait to get started until I have spun all the yarn for a whole sweater. I knit at home, on the bus or train. The only thing I have to make sure of is to be one step ahead with the yarn.
I love to knit Fair Isle sweaters. My favourite method is to use only one bobbin, which I don’t even fill, because I need smaller quantities of lots of colours. Then I wind a ply ball and ply it on itself. For that I put my thumb through the ball, so I can tension the two singles with my fingers and they don’t get tangled, as long as my thumb (or a cardboard roll or a pencil) stays in the middle. I don’t have any leftovers from plying, and it is quick when I suddenly need more yarn.
Several charming sweaters dyed, spun, and knit by the author.
I have never had problems with the yarn not being consistent enough throughout a project. I just know what yarn I want and my fingers seem to remember what to do. I am sure it is good advice to have a little card tied to the spinning wheel with a bit of the singles you are aiming for, so you can check and make sure you are spinning a consistent yarn.
Mixing breeds
There are so many different breeds, but some of my favourites are Shetland, BFL, and Jämtland – a Swedish breed. After dyeing them, I often forget what I have used, so when I do a new project it often turns out that I have used different breeds and fibres just to get the right colour. For the Fair Isle knitting I want to juggle lots of colours, which is more important to me than making a sweater out of only one breed.
Recently I made a pullover for my husband using about 12 different breeds and colours, even mixing short and long draw. For me it was a breed experiment and a way to use up lots of smaller quantities of wool I had in my stash. For that sweater I used combed top without blending.
Mixing in knitting during the spinning process is a wonderful way for a spinner to avoid being overwhelmed during a sweater project.
My feeling is that some people don’t dare to start spinning for a bigger project because they get overwhelmed by the quantity they have to spin and then all the knitting there is to do, especially when you want to spin the yarn entirely on spindles. Mixing the spinning and knitting for the same project is more interesting; you get more variety and more freedom to choose what you want to do next as long as you don’t run out of yarn. It breaks the project down into smaller, less daunting parts. The only thing you might want to plan is to have enough fibre at the start, but even that is not necessary, there is always a sheep growing more wool.
New Guild Spin-In Today! Join us!
Hooray! Hooray! Today’s the day!
Today is our first ever third Thursday PLY Spinners Guild (PSG) spin-in!
We encourage you to check out our new spin-in at 5 pm pacific today, March 20th. These third Thursday spin-ins are dedicated to helping you develop the foundational spinning skills and fiber confidence you want. So, if you’re looking for something a little more foundational in addition to, or instead of, Sunday spin-ins, we’d love to see you.
All of the spin-ins are put on by the PSG. Third Thursday spin-ins will be hosted by one or two of our PSG hosts – Lori Paterson, Donita Westman, Terri Guerette, and Heavenly Besser – while Sunday spin-ins will still be hosted by Laura Linneman and Jacey.
If you aren’t already a member of the guild, make sure you are signed up so you can participate! You’ll have full access to all our incredible video tutorials as well as the spin-ins, where you can ask questions and get real feedback from other spinners.
We can’t wait to see you there! Please remember that the PLY Spinners Guild is a space for spinners at all levels of spinning. We are an inclusive and diverse community that embraces all spinners and welcomes everyone to create a brave space to question, challenge, and support one another. We strongly believe that the more diverse our community is, the stronger our community is. Our core beliefs of kindness, diversity, and inclusivity inform everything we do. Racism, sexism, and other forms of oppression will not be tolerated. We reserve the right to remove anyone who meaningfully and purposefully disrupts the community or makes other members feel unsafe.
Dyed and Went to Pennsylvania
Words and photos by Jenn Lander
For those of us who are spinners, fiber is joy. And when we create something beyond our expectations, it’s even better. During the summer of 2023 I did just that with the help of others who knew exactly how to make my work come to life.
As a visual artist I often seek out opportunities to travel and attend artist residencies. These are vibrant places where artists tend to gather as a group and make art alongside one another. Artist residencies usually conjure inspiration, and creatives come from a variety of backgrounds to rest and create. Throughout the month of June 2023, I attended one of these residencies facilitated by the Ora Lerman foundation in Laceyville, Pennsylvania.
At the beginning of June, I packed my small Nissan Versa full of materials and tools that I wished to use over the course of the coming month. The most important item in my car was the giant bag of Shetland wool which originated from my parents’ family farm. On this farm, my father cares for between eighty to one hundred angus cattle each year. My contribution to this operation is my six Shetland sheep: Mary Brown, Lily, Danny, Francis, Ramses, and Sirius. These sweet animals, because they are a smaller breed, remind me of dogs. They love being greeted with pets and treats and amazingly enough also wag their little tails when they are happy. Each time I use their wool I am reminded of my fiber pets in Zanesville and how they give me a great deal of joy.
With my precious wool and sheepy thoughts, I arrived in Laceyville, where I worked alongside six other creatives; these people were writers, painters, and actors who were pursuing their own passions. At this residency we shared the original house of Ora Lerman, a successful artist in her own right. When she passed away, she left her estate in the form of a trust where others can take full advantage of the resources she collected throughout her life. Her home became a shared space for creatives to work and react to one another’s process. There we found inspiration from the energy and work ethic each of us brought to the space. Residents even had communal meals where we could speak openly about our ideas.
Throughout my stay I had unlimited time to work, rest, and connect with others. My most memorable moments were spent in the studio discussing a fellow artist’s landscape paintings and the beautiful weather we were having. Or meeting with a former fiber artist who found a love for metal sculpture years ago. I met a fellow spinner who was the estate’s longtime volunteer gardener. We enjoyed talking all things spinning and fiber. Excitingly enough, we had the opportunity to do a fiber trade before I left.
These budding friendships provided a nice contract to the solitude I felt while working. As most spinners know, our process typically allows time for a great deal of silent reflection. While I listened to a book at times, other moments were filled with quiet thoughts and peaceful admiration for the nature which surrounded me. The studio I spent much of my time inhabiting had large windows which overlooked a beautiful garden. When I would sit on the second story porch, I was also graced by a small hummingbird who came to see me at random moments throughout my day. During times of peace, my sheep flooded my thoughts. I thought about where this fiber came from and the historical significance of what I was doing. My hope and belief are that handspinning will never die because of all of us who are keeping it alive within our own communities. In doing so, we are educating others and sharing our passion for something that is ancient and important.
So, with my beautiful bag of wool, I took full advantage of my residency experience by spinning on my Electric EEL Wheel 6.0. Throughout that time, I spun five skeins of DK weight yarn that I had intended to make art with in the future. My fiber, being very important to me, begged to be twisted and made into something special. I had looked forward to dyeing the yarn using a natural dye process when I arrived back home. However, while researching natural dyes, I stumbled upon an organization which was offering classes close to Lancaster, Pennsylvania. A “dye day” just happened to be not only on the way home but the day following my residency.
I jumped at the opportunity to sign up. On the last day of my residency, I hopped in my car and drove off toward Lancaster. There I found lovely quilt and yarn shops within miles of where I was to take my class. Lancaster is known for its deeply rooted Amish community. It has largely become a tourist destination with hidden gems.
At Green Matter Dye Co I had the pleasure of meeting Winona, the instructor of the class. She was kind, and I quickly learned that she is also very knowledgeable in the field of fashion and fiber. Like myself, she has a degree in Fashion Design, but uniquely she focuses on sustainability. Winona’s company originated as a dye house that provided services for garment companies to send products to be dyed in a sustainable manner.
I am thankful that she also focuses on helping artists and fashion enthusiasts learn the process of natural dying. Green Matter Dye Co opens their doors to novice and new dyers who wish to learn and explore the process. Not only do they have an indigo vat always at the ready, but Winona’s staff makes dye baths out of other plants such as madder root, avocado pits, and marigolds.
The beginning of the course focused on the technical aspects of natural dye, like the pH of the water and how to test this water for batches of dye. The learning curve involved in this type of process is steep; however, we learned through hands-on experimentation in the coming hours. Over the course of the morning our small group listened to and discussed this topic, trying to understand the process we were about to explore. Even better, each student came from a different background, thus enhancing our already rich discussion.
We finally ended our conversation and moved forward with the hands-on portion of the day. Students had prepared a variety of items they wished to dye. These ranged from upcycled garments purchased in thrift stores to the handspun yarn I had brought along.
Over the coming hours we took our chosen materials and dipped them in the dye. Though I must say, the best part of my day was bonding with a group of women who had struggled through similar life experiences. We were all ages and from all walks of life. Throughout the afternoon, our small group shared about our lives, our joys and challenges: divorces, dating, and raising children, all the while creating beautiful things in our free time.
The hours ahead involved immersing our fiber into the dye baths that Winona had prepared for us. This was the first time I had ever dipped anything in an indigo vat. The experience was magical. Indigo has a deep and long history around the world but is best known in the western world as the color used to dye our blue jeans and denim.
The most eco-friendly method of indigo dyeing involves a fermentation process using the leaves of the indigo plant. During this process, the plant matter is broken down, creating bacteria and lactic acid. The pH level must be monitored.
I was instructed to dip the fiber into an indigo dye vat. Once submerged, I removed my skein, exposing it to oxygen. The yarn was hung and allowed to turn blue over time. Initially it is an acidic green color; however, after a few minutes it turns a beautiful blue hue. Afterward, my yarn was rinsed using cold water, which removed any dye matter that may have lingered. To achieve a deep blue, my handspun yarn was dipped twice. Finally, the yarn was washed gently in Dawn soap to rinse it and take away the dye that had not been bonded. In the end, I took home some beautiful blue yarn that could be used for a future project.
Over the course of a month, I traveled from my home of Columbus, Ohio to Pennsylvania. I left with a bag of Shetland wool and returned with beautiful yarn. I also departed with great memories and a new knowledge of how to dye my yarn. This time away with others inspired me to continue making yarn and to use natural materials to add color to my work. My lesson over the past couple of years is to find your people and your passion. Surround yourself with those who love the same things you do, and you will find expertise and love. What a grand combination and a beautiful gift!
Jenn Lander is an educator residing in Columbus, Ohio. Jenn’s expertise shines through in their efforts to educate others about the traditions of spinning and knitting. They possess a background in the subject, including two BFAs and a Masters degree from Maryland Institute College of Art in Studio Art.
Designer Interview: Shana Cohen
PLY is proud to work with some incredible artists, tool makers, and designers. Today we’d like to feature Shana Cohen, a designer whose Palimpsest cardigan pattern appeared in the recent Winter 2024 Care issue of PLY.
Tell us a little bit about yourself? (the hardest-to-answer question first!)
I’m a knitting pattern designer, architect, design educator, and new spinner! I love creative problem-solving and helping makers to become the best versions of themselves. I hold this true in all of my design processes, and pride myself on meeting my students where they are and helping each student to work to their full potential. I am an empath and extrovert who loves coffee, friends, hiking, and creativity. I live in the Denver, CO, area with my husband and son.
How did you get started designing patterns?
I have been involved in creative problem-solving for my entire adult life through my career in architecture and design education. As an architect, I create a set of design directions to solve a prompt. As a design educator, I write assignments for students to solve creative problems while honing their own creative voices. As a knitting pattern designer, I’m doing very similar things: creating a set of design directions for the maker to execute in an asynchronous manner. My first pattern was a superhero cape designed for my son. He asked me for a knit cape with stripes going in two different directions. We worked in a designer-client relationship to come up with a design to meet his needs. I felt a renewed sense of creative energy while solving this problem, and the experience got me out of a funk and helped shape my design identity.
In the Care issue, you tell us a little about your inspiration for the Palimpsest pattern. Can you tell us a little more about how you gather inspiration for your patterns?
I look at my design process as solving a problem for a client, just as I’ve been trained in architecture. I ask questions and propose a design to meet the needs while staying true to my own values of working with clean and thoughtful details and maximizing material use. Sometimes I am struck by a missing piece in my wardrobe or daily life, and other times I get excited by a yarn or a particular detail I want to try. Every so often I am struck by a word or a name that drives the design forward. When I collaborate with others, I think about how to create a design that will showcase us both in the best light.
How long does it take for you to work out a pattern and what does your process look like?
Sometimes I can get through a design in a matter of weeks, from concept to sample and pattern, but most often it’s a longer process for me. I work in sketches and study models (three-dimensional scaled swatches) throughout my design process. I often “road test” a piece before really solidifying it: that is, I make a full-scale mock-up (it might be in the final yarn, or in some instances, a piece of fleece fabric or sheet to test a shape or idea) and then I live with it for a bit, figuring out if the size and proportion is what I’m really going for. I use smaller study models and swatches to experiment with assembly and finishing details, and I often make smaller pieces to photograph or record a video of my process to help explain the details. This process also helps me to make sure that my writing really matches what I actually did! Occasionally I think of a design idea in my head and create nearly the entire thing with limited notes. In these instances, I end up making another version (or portion of a version) while I write to make sure I’m following my own directions! I try to create directions to accommodate many types of makers: those who prefer precise instructions for how many colors to use and where to change colors, for example, as well as those who prefer to freestyle a bit more.
How do you view and use handspun yarn as a designer?
As I mentioned, I’ve been lucky enough to have knitters execute my designs with their handspun yarn for a few years, and I’ve asked them about how they make pattern choices for their handspun yarn to help understand my own writing moving forward. I believe my modular designs show off handspun yarn because there are often smaller stitch counts and changing directions in the fabric, which allows the yarn to shine in different ways. My designs usually use a looser gauge, and I find they are forgiving for variations in yarn thickness.
What are your favorite and least favorite parts of the design process?
I love coming up with an idea and creating a pattern that allows others to make a unique version of my design. I always do a bit of a happy dance when someone chooses to make one of my patterns! The design process can be very solitary and long, and sometimes my designs just don’t work out the way I plan. I put a lot of myself into my work, and sometimes I get bogged down with other life events and need space from a design, so it doesn’t become tied to a negative memory.
Do you have any inspirational words or suggestions for ways our spinners can better incorporate handspun yarn in their knitting?
As I’m still a newer spinner myself, I look at larger pieces entirely completed with handspun yarn and I feel a bit overwhelmed, so what about trying out your yarn with something small? I have a few fidget toys in my design portfolio, and they were some of the first patterns I used to test out my handspun yarn. These tiny pieces hold memories of my own making, and the rich texture of my handspun yarn adds to the tactile quality of these handheld treasures. Also, you can use your handspun along with a commercial yarn in a striped or textured piece. I’ve recently created a few designs that do this. I’ve intentionally finished with details in the commercial yarn rather than handspun for a smoother finish, but the beauty of creating is that you get to choose what you make!
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