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.
January Vlog with Jacey and Jillian
On January 24th, Jacey Faulkner and Jillian Moreno hosting the second PLY vlog, with a live virtual chat with spinners from around the world. If you missed it (or want to watch it again), you can catch up with it here. In this vlog, Jacey and Jillian share their favorite parts of the Warmth (Winter 2020) issue and give a sneak peek into the upcoming Double-Coated (Spring 2021) issue. Get behind-the-scenes information about how Jacey decides on the cover images for each issue and her confession that she just couldn’t make a decision on the picture for the Double-Coated issue as there were so many good options (and you get to see those options and which one the live viewers liked best). Great fun abounds as Jillian walks Jacey through setting up and using the Akerworks Super Skeiner (which results in a race as they try to see who can wrap their yarn the fastest). And get to know a little more about PLY’s illustrator, Kayanna Nelson, in an interview with Jillian. Finally, if you’re a PLY print subscriber, you now have digital issues included as part of your subscription; find out how to download your digital issue(s) at the 49:20 mark.
Links mentioned in the video:
Sasha Duerr’s new book, Natural Palettes
Fiber and tools used in the Warmth issue:
Spinning Straw into Gold
Moonshadows Farm
Kayanna Nelson Interview Links
Kayanna’s Instagram @stitchtogetherstudio
Kayanna’s inspirational Instagram accounts
Kayanna’s favorite books
Dune by Frank Herbert
Outlander by Diana Gabaldon
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Jacey’s favorite books
100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry
Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers
Ask Jacey
Do you have questions about spinning? Maybe Jacey Boggs Faulkner can help? Anything is possible, after all. We’re starting a new newsletter/blog feature where Jacey will do her best to answer your spinning questions. We’re calling it Ask Jacey. Wanna ask something? Do it here!
PLY Magazine believes that Black lives matter, as well as LBGTQI+ lives. Those most vulnerable and persecuted in our communities deserve our love and support. Please be good to each other.
Book Review: Nini Towok’s Spinning Wheel: Cloth and the Cycle of Life in Kerek, Java
reviewed by Sukrita Mahon
A part of the Fowler Museum’s series on textiles around the world, this book explores the textiles in a small rural community in East Java. The culture and textile tradition in Kerek are extraordinarily vibrant, forming an integral part of this society. Modern-day spinners, weavers, and dyers in the west are likely to find much inspiration in its pages. It doesn’t seem so long ago that we were all cloth-makers – not for pleasure but necessity. The unique imprint of each artisan’s work somehow creates a sense of deeper connection with society, nature, and spirit.
The museum had an accompanying exhibition to this book, and the format is very much the same as an art exhibit, with many pieces of handspun and handwoven textiles featured and explained in detail. Each piece has a cultural context and is worn by certain members of society or used for certain purposes only. They indicate everything from social class, land ownership, age, and marital status to ancestry. Largely made as single lengths of cloth, they are worn by both men and women, but in recent years commercially made clothes have come to dominate the menswear.
Spinning, dyeing, and weaving are all considered mythical and ritual activities, performed mainly by the women. Nini Towok is the mythical figure of a spinner in Kerek’s oral traditions. She is considered to be visible on the surface of the moon, spinning on a wheel. With the cotton fields resembling the night sky and the stars, she feels at once close to earth and ethereal. “Part goddess, part crone, Nini Towok sends her finely spun cotton yarn to earth in the form of moonbeams.” A type of guardian spirit, she is believed to watch over each part of cloth-making, and offerings are made to her at the beginning of a project.
The dyeing process is also steeped in ritual, although the book only mentions it briefly. Natural dyes produce blacks, blues, and reds, and brown cotton is also used. The patterns are formed mainly using batik techniques (wax resist dyeing), and the symbolism is deeply connected to the natural world. Common motifs include centipedes, flowers, birds – all imbued with meaning. Some colours and symbols can be protective, and some denote youth and fertility. Abstract symbols are also used, less commonly, often in the case of men’s clothing.
The life cycle of a woman is a theme that returns again and again in the fabric of this region. From youth and marriage to motherhood, and finally old age, women adorn themselves in different ways and acquire more status with age. Special cloths are used to carry children, and these are very often handspun and handwoven, even when other clothing is not. Funeral rites also feature certain textiles that are placed on the coffin of the deceased and left there until the final moments. Afterwards, they are taken home by the family and preserved as heirlooms.
As can be imagined, environmental degradation has affected the textile practices considerably. Indigo is the only natural dye still used, since other traditional plant dyes are now difficult to come by. Traditional textile worker families are all but gone, with many people no longer interested to take up the vocation. I can’t help feeling that a lot has been left out of this book in terms of the socio-economic context, and the reader is expected to make many assumptions that may be on the idealistic end of the spectrum. For instance, many of the residents are landless labourers, who form a vulnerable demographic, subject to urban migration away from the region. There is no mention at all of how increasing globalisation might affect the future of Kerek textiles.
With such awe-inspiring textiles featured, I was left wanting more from the book. The pages about the mythology and spiritual practices connected with the textiles were too fleeting for my liking – although readers may feel a sense of familiarity in them. Since it’s a small and isolated region, there were many questions I found myself asking, for which the answers aren’t easily obtainable. For this reason, the material feels a little clinical and academic. Personally, I hope for a future in which textiles are alive with intention and meaning in our everyday life in the west – glimpses like Nini Towok make it easier to imagine.
Rating: 3.5/5
PLY Magazine believes that Black lives matter, as well as LBGTQI+ lives. Those most vulnerable and persecuted in our communities deserve our love and support. Please be good to each other.
Warm West Coast Wool: Salish style
words and photos by Liz Hammond-Kaarremaa
Cowichan sweaters are famous throughout the world for being thick, light, warm, and cosy. The yarns demonstrate ancient expertise with spinning warm yarns. The Cowichan (now known as Quw’utsun) First Nations of Vancouver Island on the west coast of Canada are part of the Coast Salish language family of nations surrounding the Salish Sea and Puget Sound. They, along with their neighbours, have been spinning warm yarns for thousands of years, yet sheep only arrived in the area in the mid-1850s. So how did they learn to spin such warm fibres in a land where animal fibres are rare? And what can they teach us about spinning warm yarns?
From spindle to treadle machine
Originally the Coast Salish spun dog wool (see my article, “The Coast Salish Woolly Dog,” in the Spring 2020 issue of PLY) and mountain goat wool, sometimes mixed, sometimes alone. First, they slightly twisted fibres on their thigh into a rough roving which they then wound into balls in preparation for spinning on a spindle. The unique spindle is long at 36 inches, similar to a Navajo spindle but with a very large whorl (6–10 inches), and is spun by rolling the spindle down the thigh or lifting it in the air above the laps to twirl it. This provided a lofty thick yarn which traditionally was plied and woven into blankets. The Coast Salish adapted their unique spindle to spin sheep wool once sheep arrived in the mid 1800s.
Along with sheep, settlers brought treadle sewing machines. The Coast Salish, knowing their large spindles made thick warm wool, cleverly attached their spindle to where a sewing machine would sit, added a groove on the whorl to hold the drive band and a fork to hold the other end of the spindle, and spun using the treadle machine. This became known as the Indian Head Spinner or what Ashford called the Country Spinner.
Farming their own flocks
The imported sheep were mostly Merino and cross-breed Cheviot-Leicester with some purebred Southdown, Cheviot, and Leicester. By the 1880s the Cowichan Coast Salish were farming their own flocks. These were the perfect breeds for creating Cowichan sweaters. The high crimp in these fleeces create a bulky yet lightweight and bouncy yarn. The air pockets between the fibres provide warmth. If wool fibres have a lot of crimp, the fibres will push against each other, causing the yarn to puff out and creating many air pockets to capture and keep air, creating a warm yarn. If the fibres are mixed in a jumble (woolen) rather than lying parallel (worsted), the puffier the yarn will be.
Most sheep produce lanolin which provides the animal with waterproofing. The finer the fibre, the more lanolin on the sheep. Most of the sheep imported were fine or medium breeds which produce good quantities of lanolin. On the west coast where rainfall is plentiful, having sheep with good lanolin to protect them is an advantage. If the fleece is washed with lukewarm water rather than hot, some lanolin is left in, and when spun, the yarn will retain some waterproofing qualities. Fishermen not only wore Cowichan sweaters for warmth but also wore Cowichan long johns!
The fleece qualities of high crimp and lanolin are why the Cowichan sweaters were made famous – a lightweight, warm, and waterproof sweater. The sweaters were so famous that the Coast Salish have had to fight battles with fashion houses that appropriated the Coast Salish designs for company profits and no benefit to the Coast Salish.
Making Cowichan-like yarn
While you can never make a true Cowichan yarn unless you are Coast Salish and integrate your culture into the process, you can make a Cowichan-like yarn using modern equipment. But remember to respect and acknowledge the Coast Salish tradition of spinning and knitting Cowichan or Salish sweaters. Be creative, and design a yarn to provide the same good qualities of Coast Salish yarn. Colour it bold or colour it subtle, but make it yours.
If you want to make a Cowichan-like yarn, start with a good crimpy fibre and spin it in the grease or gently wash it in warm, not hot, water to remove the dirt and leave some lanolin in it. You can also start with scoured wool and add lanolin before you spin or once the garment is finished by adding lanolin to a bath as you full or finish the garment. Paradise Fibers has a great instructional tutorial on how to do this.
You need to create a woolen yarn, so prepare the wool by creating rolags. Some spinning wheels are designed for spinning bulky yarns, e.g., the Ashford Country Spinner, wheels made for art yarns (Louet), those with jumbo or bulky-head attachments (Lendrum), and those with bobbin-led flyers with large bobbin capacity. But even if you don’t have one of these types of wheels, you can make do with a wheel designed for medium yarns. The Scottish-style and double-drive wheels are designed for lace yarns; hence, they have small bobbins and might give you an airy, warm, but much much thinner yarn.
Choose your largest whorl; it should have a low ratio such as 4:1 or 6:1. Wheels with a large orifice and large flyer hooks are best as you are trying to spin thick yarns. However, thick does not mean dense. You are aiming for light, lofty, big bouncy yarns. Keep the air pockets in the yarn. A thick yarn can squeeze down and fit through a smaller orifice if necessary, but it should bounce back to bulky and not impede your spinning.
Bulky yarns need little twist, especially if you are starting with good crimpy, grabby fleece. If you have a bobbin-led wheel (the drive band turns the bobbin), put a lot of tension on the drive belt. Higher tension will practically grab the fibres out of your hand and onto the bobbin quickly. If you have a flyer-led wheel (the drive band turns the flyer), loosen the brake on the bobbin. Twist will build up quickly, so let it onto the bobbin even before you think it has enough twist. By the time it gets wound on, it will have enough twist. (Check out Michelle Boyd’s article “The Truth about Take-up” in the Summer 2016 issue of PLY for more information.)
Spin, as Paula Simmons describes in her classic book Spinning for Softness and Speed, using an unsupported long-draw technique. This is often a zen-like one-handed technique. Hold the rolag in one hand. Pinch off about an inch and pull the hand away from the orifice after allowing the twist to build up a little, grabbing and twisting the loose fibres to the thickness you are looking for. Keep tension on the fibres and let the twist chase your hand steadily, gobbling up the wool as you pull back to your side. Treadle slowly and then gracefully return your hand to the orifice and repeat. Relax, breath slowly, treadle slowly, and enjoy the Zen of it.
Some people suggest you pre-draft a roving to the thickness you want and let it run onto the bobbin with barely any twist. This will get you a bulky yarn but not a lightweight one. It will instead be heavy and dense, full of fibres but not air. Remember, for this yarn you want to let the air into the yarn.
If you do not have a low ratio whorl or end up with too much twist, one of our spinning saints, Judith MacKenzie, has a trick: spin a thick yarn and do not worry about putting in too much twist. Once you have filled the bobbin, take it off your spinner, put it on the floor, and run it through your spinner very quickly in the opposite direction to take out some of the extra twist.
You can use the yarn as a singles yarn or ply it. Traditionally, the Coast Salish plied the yarn for their blankets but made Cowichan sweaters from a singles yarn. If it is a singles yarn you are looking for, avoid weighting the yarn to set the twist as you are really stretching it and losing the lofty bulk you want to keep. Instead, finish them boldly in hot soapy water, agitating before plunging the yarn into cold water. You are trying to bloom or full the yarn, not felt it, but full it enough that it creates a slightly protective web around it to prevent easy pilling. Alternatively, you can full the finished product. Whichever you do, think about trying to maintain or add some lanolin to the final soaking to give the end product some weatherproofing if wanted.
Further reading
Gibson-Roberts, Priscilla A. Salish Indian Sweaters: A Pacific Northwest Tradition. Saint Paul, MN: Dos Tejedoras Fiber Arts Publications, 1989.
Gustafson, Paula. Salish Weaving. Seattle: Douglas & McIntyre, 1980.
Simmons, Paula. Spinning for Softness and Speed. Madrona Pub, 1982.
Every time Liz Hammond-Kaarremaa, a Master Spinner, sees a Coast Salish blanket or sweater, the world stands still for just a moment, but packed into that moment are many women’s lives: the spinner, her children teasing and carding, the carvers of her spindles and looms, and the ceremonies where the blanket or sweater was worn. These objects radiate those moments. Visit her website for more resources.
PLY Magazine believes that Black lives matter, as well as LBGTQI+ lives. Those most vulnerable and persecuted in our communities deserve our love and support. Please be good to each other.
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