Nostalgic knits, timeless treasures

My daughter-in-law Tash loaned me her copy of  "This Golden Fleece, A Journey Through Britian's Knitted History", by Ethel Rutter, after I mentioned that I had enjoyed a McGill University lecture by Beverley Ann Lee on the 5,000 year history of wool. This is a slim, captivating book, both history and memoir. I learned a great deal, including that crossing heaving autumn seas to attend the famous Shetland Wool Week is not for sissies.

That book ratcheted my love (and lust) for Fair Isles, Arans, and Guernseys to the level of fervent devotion. I still want to dress like Virginia Woolf. In that post, which was about scarves, I quoted Woolf: "We may make (clothes) take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking."

Both my mother and mother-in-law were expert knitters, calmly clicking through complicated patterns. Below, the Fair Isle cardigans Grandmaman knit for our sons when they were age three:


I still have these nestled away, in perfect shape, for they were special-occasion wear. (I am keeping them for someone who has twins—or just as art pieces.) She offered to knit one for me, and, reluctant to accept such a labour-intensive gift, I requested a marled scarf instead, which I regret to this day. Le Duc is wearing an Aran that originally belonged to my father.

For Christmas last year, I hinted heavily for this cotton-wool Seasalt vest (n/a) which, though machine-knit, captures the era's charm. This spring, I've been gratefully wearing it over tees and shirts.  


These patterns lend some character to my usual jeans or trousers and, accustomed to washing fine wools in the machine, I don't mind the bit of care they require. 

I'm a stickler for British-made pieces; here are some sources to check out. (You can find cheap Asian-made acrylics or wool blends out there for $40, but not in the Passage.)  All but one are made on knitting machines; the vendors proudly mention their 100% wool yarns.


Clockwise from top left:

1. Pink Fair Isle tank, sale price £135, from the Scottish tailors and outfitters Campbell's of Beauly.

2. "The Pretty", a Fair Isle yoke is an option if an all-over design is too much for you. From Oldfield Outfitters; price, £145.

3. Bosie's "Land Girl" cardigan can serve as a jacket, extending its wear window. This colourway shows the gentler side of Fair Isle palettes, with an oatmeal ground and a pattern of granite blue, fresh green and rose red. Price, £195. Bosie offer a wider size range than many other vendors.

4. Ooooh! Here's a hand-knit, very hard to find online. Mati Ventrillon is a native Fair Isle crofter dedicated to preserving the heritage; her pieces are sold on the Old Stone Trade site. This vest is $US 950 and represents over 25 hours of work. Apparently there is a years-long waitlist. Stunning—and perhaps highly motivating for you knitters!

I especially like them as vests or waistcoats, because they fit under a jacket or coat. Brora offers them every season; the cashmeres are beauties but the wool and mohair styles are more affordable, especially if you pounce during sales. 


Shown, Brora wool Fair Isle tank in "Neutral"; price, £135, worn over a marinière.  It is easy to pattern-mix, just pick one linking colour.

I had a note from Jane in London, who said she had travelled with her family, as a child, to an old fishing and whaling town,Whitby, on the Yorkshire coast, and once saw an exhibition of traditional fishing sweaters through the ages, each one hand-worked with specific stitches that reflected the job, village or family of the wearer. Ganseys are another chapter in Rutter's book, and deserve a post of their own, but do click on the link to see Daniel Day-Lewis in his special and sentimental one.

The finale is Le Duc in his thirty-three year old Fair Isle waistcoat, also knitted by his mother, Monique, who had an artist's eye for composition. She was born to knit and weave, and Fair Isles were her chefs d'oeuvre.


We lost her six years ago, so I have to make do with retail versions, but those please me, too. Each time I look at the colourways, I sense she is leaning over my shoulder, pointing to especially felicitous patterns, and confirming Woolf's observation that our clothes "mould our hearts".



 

  

 

Comments

Christine said…
I adore hand-knitted sweaters. If you're in Rome, Italy, there is a fantastic lady at Yarn Textile Art, no 1 Via dei Banchi Vecchi, who works alone with her knitting machine on some amazing but very simple designs, from scarves to dresses.
LauraH said…
My grandmother was also an expert knitter and I've done some knitting myself. I have many pattern books filled with the most amazing Fair Isle pieces but never tackled any. Now this post has me thinking about jumping back in, maybe gloves or mitts, as they feel more manageable.
Tom said…
My mother and mother-in-law were fantastic knitters (b. 1926 and 1930) and we have some treasured samples of their work. My mother was proud of the fact that she could knit argyle socks. My mother eventually stopped knitting but my mother-in-law continued through her life, eventually adopting the free-form style of Kaffe Fassett.
I hope you find a set of twins for your fair isles! e
Duchesse said…
Christine: I'm always grateful when readers share their special addresses, thank you!

LauraH: Now that will put a dent in gardening time!

Eva: Could be that this was a Depression-era skill. My mother knit (b. 1909) knit nearly all our sweaters, and all our scarves, hats, mittens—but never socks. It's not just a twin birth I seek, it is parents willing to tend these hand-washables. I've asked several and all they want is fleece that goes in machine and dryer. When that photo was taken, a woman in her eighties regarded them and said. to me, "Someone really loves those little boys!" I showed her the label in the neck: "Fait avec amour par Grandmaman."
Laura J said…
I’m in my 70s and dropped into a knitting group at the downtown library..young hip and innovative knitters..so good to see.colour work is fun to do but it looks too busy on me..I tend to knit classic styles in gansy wool and of course endless socks!
Jill Ann said…
My 30 year old daughter is a very skilled knitter. I can sew but can’t knit, so she taught herself (with help from the internet). She uses only natural fibers, and has made some very beautiful, and complicated, sweaters. I admire her talent! My granny didn’t knit, but she did everything else…she made beautiful quilts, and also intricate embroidery and tatting (lace making). I have several of her lace edged pillowcases, and monogrammed linen napkins; items that I hope don’t end up being donated or trashed some day! But of course I know there’s not a lot of use for such things nowadays.
Duchesse said…
All: Beth, an expert knitter, read this and sent me these links — I have to post them here! These are more contemporary designs that show how the craft has moved forward but retained some of the stitches:

A knitwear designer whose specialty is stranded knitting, but updated:
https://www.instagram.com/_.annajohanna._/

Kate Davies Designs: Kate and her husband, a photographer, make books as well as knitwear designs, yarn, historical documentation, etc.
https://www.shopkdd.com/argylls-secret-coast

This young designer is Ukrainian, living in Europe:
https://www.tetilutsak.com/designs/


Jill Ann: I can spend hours looking at vintage linens and quilts sold by vendors on places like Etsy, so that's where some "granny pieces" end up! Hope you can find ways to use most of these things now, because that's what makes younger generations appreciate them.
Jane in London said…

Such a lovely family photo, and there's Le Duc still looking fine in his Fairisle waistcoat! Those sweaters really were a labour of love...

I could happily buy any of your picks this week, all are lovely and show the versatility of this type of knitting design. Timeless, yet still somehow always fresh. To badly mangle Shakespeare: age cannot wither it, nor custom change its infinite variety (sorry ;))

The posts with the most