Intarsia, I hate you

I had guests over the last week, and my knitting mojo was seriously damaged. But then, the wonders of eBay saved me, by delivering up a copy of The Knitter's Bible, by Claire Crompton. It's the anti-Stitch 'n' Bitch: crisp, no-nonsense instructions a bit like the admonishments at the back of Rowan knitting magazines ("It is a great shame that so many garments are ruined by poor seaming"). I think the cutesy writing of Debbie Stoller was just what I needed to get me past the first fear of knitting, but now that I really do believe that I can knit anything, if I put my mind to it, clear prose with detailed photos is exactly what I want.


And oh! It has the most wonderful stitch library, over 100 stitch patterns, and now my mind is running wild with notions about designing a lacey camisole, based on the Soleil shaping, mostly knitted in a simple eyelet pattern in a dull olive green cotton, with hot pink accents in a more elaborate lace. Exciting times. For fashion-obsessed knitters, that is.

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First, though, I have a pile of baby clothes to get through. I was doing so well with the first Anouk, and whizzed through the back yesterday. So cute! So fluffy! I find it hard to believe that babies really are that small, but apparently they are. It was all going so well. And then, armed with the Knitter's Bible, I decided that nothing, no nothing held any fears for me any more: I would teach myself intarsia.

Horrible, horrible intarsia! With the sucky tension and dangly ends and tangly balls of yarn! And it looks dreadful at the front and even worse at the back:














Ghastly, gruesome vision! I have a nasty feeling the baby will feel mortally offended at being presented with such a grisly mess, to say nothing of its stylish mother. And you can't even frog intarsia, because all the ends are cut! I despair. I will finish the pocket, and think again, but perhaps I'll just lazy-daisy the dress and leave it at that. It's not like I'll ever want to use intarsia on a garment for myself, after all, and after all, whatever I pretend, my knitting is all about Me.