Peek on Earth

Judging from the pile of comments, the little movie in the last post touched a chord in quite a few tender hearts. Mind you, whether that chord was major or minor depended on how the heart was feeling about this year's roster of holiday knitting.

I'm taking my own on the road (to sweet Loop in Philadelphia for classes on lace and photography, information here) tomorrow, but before I head for the airport I'd like to let you know that this year's edition of the annual Panopticon Shop Holiday Knitting Ornament, "No Peeking," is ready and waiting in the shop. I've put it on cards as well. I do hope you will like it.



Peeking at your presents is a time-honored holiday tradition. Our family had another, related tradition: a merry reminder from my mother that any child caught or even suspected of hunting around for hidden goodies would get to watch in silent horror as every last box and bag went back to Santa's Workshop. I was 23 years old before I could open a closet door between Thanksgiving and Christmas without having an anxiety attack.

Been There, Done That, Made a T-Shirt

Did you ever have one of those days? Today, I did.

Now that it's quite over and the bodies are neatly buried, I've made a t-shirt to commemorate it.



In case you should at some point find yourself having a similar day, please note that I've added it (on a few different items, including a mug and button) to the shop.

Sweetness, light, conviviality, gemütlichkeit, etc. will return within 24 hours.

Out of the Sketchbook

Over the Water

I'll be popping across the pond in just two short weeks. On November 10 at 6* in the evening, I'll be at I Knit in London for an informal but lively evening of knitting, talking and reading from works old...and new.

In the Shop

The annual knitting ornament is newly available for your Christmas tree, Festivus pole, Hanukkah bush, Kwanzaa privet hedge, Solstice rubber plant, or Secular Humanist creeping charlie.

I enjoyed making it for you. I hope you will like it.



* Whoops. I mistakenly wrote 7 pm on first writing.

Little Comforts

This week, so far:

• the financial world is in free fall,
• the government of my country can't stop posturing and pontificating long enough to take effective action,
• the media predicts that by Christmas we shall all be living in old shoeboxes awaiting the Apocalypse, and
  
• yesterday when I picked up the long-neglected Wedding Ring Shawl to do a little work, I realized I'd skipped an entire row in the effing chart. Again.
  

At such a moment, pictures like this go a long way toward keeping me from running mad in the street.



Fall has arrived in New England, and Abigail has inaugurated her Panopticon Hoodie (details are in this old entry if you want 'em). Some things are still moving right along, thank you very much. The trees are turning, I am knitting, my little niece is walking and talking and playing and making me happy I'm on the planet.



I still look at those buttonholes with a twinge of pride. They weren't hard–I used this variation on Maggie Righetti's one-row method–but they were my first and buttonholes are one of those things in knitting that exude an air of difficultà.

In case you were practical and did not major in Art History whilst in college, difficultà is a term that is used to describe (among other things) the exaggerated, complex, often tortured postures and proportions that characterized (some would say, infected) art created in the Mannerist period that followed the High Renaissance.

Simply put, the Mannerists were a bunch of show-offs. They painted this kind of thing just to prove they could.



Madonna del Collo Lungo (Madonna with the Long Neck) by Parmigianino. Uffizi, Florence. Guess why they call her that.

Here's my off-the-cuff list of some things in knitting that count as difficultà. They're not necessarily difficult, but they look like they must have been. What else should be here?

• Two-acre lace shawls worked in yarn spun from gnat's eyelashes.
• About half of the stuff in this glorious book.
  
• Aran sweaters with more decorative motifs between the neck and the hem than are found in the entire Book of Kells.
• All techniques identified as "Japanese"–cast ons, short rows, etc.
• Garments knit in directions you wouldn't expect, like sweaters that start two inches above the left shoulderblade and grow seamlessly to the right wrist.
• Pretty much anything cooked up by Kaffe Fassett or Debbie New.
  
• Entrelac.
  

New in the Shop

This year's ornament, the fourth in the series, is ready in the shop, and I hope you'll like it.



Joy comes from many sources, I know, but I always find that my joy is amplified when yarn is somehow involved.

Knit a Little Lamb: Part Two

When last we left our little lamb, it looked like this.



As this lamb is going to wind up half inside a sweater pocket, we don't need to think about the legs, just the head and body. In the interest of further simplification, we're going to shift the basic shapes slightly to bring them into alignment, thus.



And that's what we've got to knit first.

This is where you have to draw on your own knowledge, experience, and preferences as a knitter. There are probably as many ways to realize those shapes in knitting as there are knitters. You could, for example, simply knit up two stockinette shapes in the appropriate sizes.

On the other hand, as this lamb will be placed against a stockinette ground, why not try out a textured stitch to give it a little more visual oomph? Maybe the render the fluffy body in moss stitch?

Let's try it. Cast on as many stitches as you think you need, and go.



Not bad. Good enough to continue. In fact, rather than knit two pieces, what if we used texture to suggest the separation between head and body? Maybe render the face in stockinette? And we could throw in a pair of decreases at the "shoulder" line for shaping.



Promising. Enough to go on. I find that when you're improvising like this, it's extremely important to make frequent stops for assessment–something I learned from Maggie Righetti in Knitting in Plain English. When I started knitting I felt guilty about constantly pausing to look at my work, until I read Maggie's sound advice that you should do so to decide if you like it–and rip it back if you don't. That has saved me a lot of time and trouble.

So, here's the finished body and head in one piece.



It's okay. The top corners are a bit sharp, but maybe they can be fudged in the sewing. But the face looks sunken when it should project forward, as a glance at the model shows.



(Awwwwwwww.)

We could undo the head. Or, before we go that far, we could try knitting the lamb a little oval snoot, since that's the bit that really sticks out in the original, and apply it over the stockinette face. Maybe that'd counteract the sunken effect. It'll only take a few minutes.



Hmm. Not bad. Let's sew it down, and tuck a bunch of yarn ends underneath to give it a little extra volume.



And there we are–the basic shapes are in place. It's not quite ready to baaaaaaaa, but it's gettin' there.

Next time, we'll finish up by adding the details to the face and head.

New in the Shop

I was procrastinating feeling inspired a couple of days ago and made up a new design for the shop, which for the moment is on bags and shirts. If there's interest in having it on magnets or journals or cards or whatever, do speak up and I'll see what I can do.



(Yeah, I played Dungeons and Dragons as a kid. You wanna make something of it?)

North by Down East

Before I say anything else this morning, I have to stutter my thanks for all the encouraging comments that followed the announcement of the forthcoming book. It's been a dream, ever since I presented my first-grade opus Aaron the Alligator (which I also illustrated) at the Kate B. Reynolds Elementary School Tiny Authors Convention. Once you've tasted literary fame, the craving never leaves you.

The book will be somewhat akin to what you find in here: a bit of doodling, a bit of typing. I hesitate to say much more, but I will tell you it's not a book of patterns. Interweave is, I guess, looking to branch out a bit and I'm one of the twigs. I'm pretty proud to be working with an outfit I've admired from a distance for so long.

And now...news from and about Maine.

I got word from my sister, Susan, that my Exceptional Niece Abigail's® Littlest Democrat Sweater made its public debut at a meet-and-greet for noted Maine politico Chellie Pingree. Abby, shown here pondering a question from a Portland Press Herald reporter about which Democratic presidential hopeful she prefers, was a good girl and did not spit up on my handiwork. I am proud.



As usual, I'll be heading to Maine to spend Christmas with the whole beautiful bunch. While I'm there, I'm delighted to announce a...

1000 Knitters Public Shoot: Purl Diva

Oh yes oh yes...the one-and-only Purl Diva of Brunswick has offered to host a shoot for the 1000 Knitters Project on Saturday, December 22, from 4–7 p.m. Directions to the shop (and lots of other information) can be found via her Web site.

As usual, sittings will be on a first-come, first-served basis; there's no advance registration. If you're interested in being a model, there's basic information here on the project blog.

I'm curious to know how many folks might be able to show. If you're thinking about it, be a darling and leave a comment to that effect in this entry, won't you please?

1000 Knitters Goodies

On a related note, I've been able to add a few 1,000 Knitters items to the shop to help support project expenses. I especially had fun assembling the portraits on the bag, which were selected using a random number generator.



More will follow, and of course as the project progresses I'll do up versions with new and different portraits.

In the meanwhile...still got Christmas knitting in the works. Oy!

And by the by, many thanks to the folks who've written to say they like their 2007 angel ornaments. (I wish Knitpicks would get to work on producing those little clouds to float my fair isle strands.)

For Your Consideration

It's November 1, my dears, and that means it's time to reveal this year's Panopticon Shop holiday design.



I've put her on an ornament and cards, as usual; and also on a journal, baby shirt, and a few other goodies to see how that flies.

No pun intended.

She will be available through February 1, 2008.

I'm tickled to gay little bits at the response to the last two posts on vintage and antique needlework. If Sue gives permission, I'll approach PieceWork about an article on the embroidered World War I postcards. PieceWork is one of my few must-read magazines and I'd love to contribute something to it–thank you for the encouragement.

Today is all about final preparations for the trip to California. I would be lying to you if I said I weren't nervous. Californians: I am a small, jumpy man unfamiliar with your exotic ways and customs. Please be gentle.

Dolores is not helping much, as she has apparently been bugging Cindi, my guild contact in Sacramento, with a stream of questions about local nightlife and the whereabouts of "special interest" bars in the vicinity of our hotel. I wish to reassure members of the Guild that the viewpoints of Ms. Van Hoofen are her own, and do not necessarily reflect those of us at The Panopticon who have never visited a "latex and wool" fetish night and hope we never will.

Bits 'n' Bobs

I got photographs from Susan of Abigail in her Tulip Jacket. Already she combines the verve of Suzy Parker and the emotional versatility of Lisa Fonssagrives.



Tour Swag

Those of you who haven't caught Dolores and Her Ball Band on the road can now pick up souvenirs (posters, bags, shirts and such) in the shop.

Loopy Yarns 1000 Knitters Shoot

Just a reminder that I'll be shooting for the project at Loopy Yarns during their anniversary party this Friday evening, September 7, from 5 pm to about 8:30 pm. If you'd like to participate, there's no need to sign up in advance, just be there and be ready to knit. If you haven't already done so, please check out the Information for Knitters page on the project blog.

I notice in the Loopy Yarns blog that they're having a 20% off sale on Mirasol Yarns from Peru on that day. Hmm.

A Question Answered

This is from way back. Reader Tami was curious about the children's books pictured along with the Tulip Jacket. They are:

• Lullaby-Land by Eugene Field
• Cinderella and Other Nursery Stories (in an edition by F. Warne & Co., circa 1900)
• Merrie England by Grace Greenwood
• A Little Garden Calendar, an utter horror perpetrated by Albert Bigelow Paine
• The Children's Book of London by G.E. Mitton

I have to share the inscription written in a very tight, precise hand on the half-title page of the last:

To Elizabeth and Sidney - To recall a delightful Noël in London and the affection and best wishes of their friend and Rector. 1905. N.D. Moxon

The Subject Was Movies

So listen, if you're interested in hearing me shoot off my mouth about a topic I don't normally dwell on in here, check out my interview over at the Film Experience blog. Far better than my responses, if you ask me, are Nathaniel's graphics to accompany them.

Such a clever man. It makes you wonder why he doesn't knit.

Coffee In, Coffee Out

If you're a long-time reader you may remember this cartoon (now re-drawn).



I hesitated to even post it, but when I did a bunch of you asked for it on a coffee mug. Here it is.

I don't know why Cafepress makes the close-ups of mug designs look so dreadful on screen, by the way. All I can tell you is the artwork shouldn't be pixelated on the finished product even though it appears so on the screen.

I also don't know whey they changed the template for tote bags and never bothered to tell me, especially considered the flood of spam messages I get from them on other topics of no import. I've got to go and re-do all the bags. Ah, the life of the bourgeois shopkeeper.

Happy weekend, y'all.

Dolores Announces

Hi, it's Dolores.

What a freakin' week, cupcakes. Not only have rehearsals for my upcoming revue at the Lucky Horseshoe kicked into high gear, but I have big news about some other new projects.

First: the Boss has finally agreed to launch Dolores Bébés, my new line of clothing for the Very Young and Impressionable. Check out the shop for designs and details. It's never too early to expose your children to a positive role model, so spend lavishly. Furthermore, I get a cut of the profits and I need not remind you that Virginia Slims don't come free.



Second: response to my call for questions has been, in a word, tremendous.

I knew the world was full of troubled souls, I just didn't know so many of them read this blog. Harry got emotionally overwhelmed trying to screen the letters and so I'm sending him to Branson, Missouri for a couple of days to chill out and maybe catch a few shows. (Ever since he discovered Franklin's hidden stash of Donny and Marie bootlegs, he's been a big fan of the Osmonds.)

Now I've read your cries for help, and I've decided there's too much good stuff for just a blog entry. Would Oprah settle for a blog entry? Would Dr. Phil be content with 200 measly words? Would those smug bitches on "The View" consider the humble written word a suitable outlet for their messages of hope and goodwill?

Me neither.

The networks don't seem to be returning calls this week, so I've decided to sidestep them and pour forth my wisdom via a Podcast to be produced by the newly-formed Dolores Van Hoofen Omnimedia. I've taken a leaf out of Barbra's book and designated myself producer, director, and star. I'm trying to get Sondheim to write me a love theme, but he doesn't seem to be returning calls either. What's the matter, Stephen? You still sulking in your tent over Bounce?

I guess maybe I would be, too.

Uh Oh

(P.S. If you know you won't finish your knitted gifts, maybe you'd like to send the new shirt in the shop, which I dedicate to Rabbitch with love. Secondarily, I dedicate it to the reader who told my work has been too cutesy lately.)

Knitting Life

It took me a while to buy the new Interweave Knits because the first copies to arrive at the bookstore near my office were all, inexplicably, sealed in plastic. I wondered (hoped?) whether this indicated scandalous content within–perhaps a centerfold featuring John Brinegar supine on a pile of Jaeger.

The reviews began to show up online and were so positive that I hope Pam Allen et al. opened a bottle of something nice. In case you haven't noticed, knitters are not the easiest bunch to please. I don't know whence came the image of the daft little old lady smiling benignly at the world over her needles, because even since the demise of You Knit What?, make one false move and you're chum.

When I finally got to flip through an unsealed copy (and yes, I did buy it) I was disappointed that there were no naked men. On the other hand, there are several striking designs and two that are gorgeous (Eunny, honey, you're really giving She Who Litigates in Scottish Courts a run for her money). And then there's the men's sweater.

Now, this is not going to be a scathing write-up of the men's sweater. When you're putting your own stuff out there every day, honestly it becomes a little harder to flippantly write things like, "Wow! What a piece of shit!" Also, whenever I start to feel really poisonous I see my mother's disapproving countenance rising up before my eyes and saying "Play nice or you're going home!" and it kills the mood.

I want to write about this sweater because if, on the off chance that anybody who publishes patterns might be reading, I'd like to pass on some comments of my own–as well as one given at last night's Stitches in Britches meeting.

First of all, the model is completely cute should feel free to write to me at any time. However, I am going to assume that the sweater was intended for somebody rather larger. Here's why: look at a) the neckline and b) the waistline.

I am absolutely certain that the designer could not have intended the neckline to be so broad that it's mere inches from slipping off the fellow's pretty shoulders. Nor could she have jumped up from a deep sleep and shouted "Eureka! I've figured out how to make a normal-sized head look freakishly small!"

And there is no way any designer who's going to show up in IK would intentionally put an innocent male model into a knitted minidress, which is what this is. Imagine it belted, with some good silk stockings and a pair of kitten heels. See? You could wear it to a gallery opening.

But on a man, unless he has had his ass surgically removed, what you've got is a too-long sweater that will either bunch up over his butt while covering his crotch; or cover and accentuate whatever junk is in his trunk in a most unflattering dog-under-a-blanket sort of way.

Now, I know a lot of women who like this length, because it can smooth the transition from midriff to the lower regions and possibly look slimming. However, this is not how men's sweaters should look, at least not if you want men to wear them without hating you. A man's waistline should be at his waist. Not above, not below.

As the designer undoubtedly knew this, I am going to shake my stubby finger at whoever arranged and/or styled this shoot, and the person in editorial who let it run. Listen, IK, you are one of the only knitting magazines I enjoy and I know you can do better. This sweater needed a guy about a foot taller and, judging from the size of the yoke and collar, about a foot wider. A tall order, perhaps, but honestly...don't show a garment if you can't show it off at its best. It's not nice for the model and it's not nice for the designer who worked so hard to please you.

Also it encourages the men I knit with to say it ought to be called the Sphincter Sweater because that's what that yoke looks like on a too-small model. And the men I knit with, they know from sphincters.

Sock News

I finished knitting the first cabled sock and will show you a picture as soon as I can be bothered to take one.

The 2007 Ornament

The successor to last year's elf is this tiny Ode to Peace is nearly ready for the shop. Here's a sneak preview. (Note: it's up...and it looks like for a short time Café Press is offering it at a discount. They control these things, I don't–so I'm not sure how long the deal will last.)



Of course, after the reaction to the last post I'm sorry I didn't draw them peeing on one another.

Meow

Did you ever want very much to say something, but just couldn't bring yourself to say it?



Now available in the shop on shirts, a knitting tote, a magnet and a button.

A special tip of the pen to David, in honor of his new arrival.

[Addendum: Sheep on a Plane is now on a coffee mug. Thanks for asking!]

The Sequel?

[Addendum: Your wish is my command. I've added a slightly more colorful version to the shop on shirts and a bag.]

Hold That Thought

As Stitches Midwest 2006 recedes into memory, I find I'll need more than ten minutes to write about it. I learned a lot of lessons, some of them about knitting.

Shop Sizes

I don't want to wait any longer, though, before addressing a comment left anonymously regarding the sizes (not) available in the shop.

My shop is one of scores that operate as part of the Café Press system. Café Press is a company that consists in the main of three things: online shop tools, a customer service office, and a large warehouse and production facility where orders are fulfilled and shipped.

At the moment, Café Press is my only option for selling things online because I lack the financial backing needed to procure my own stock of products, shipping materials, etc. And even if I had all the above, I don't have the resources to house merchandise and fulfill orders (i.e., see who's ordered what, pack it up, ship it, keep the books, and provide customer service). I'm still just a guy with a demanding day job of 50-60 hours a week living in a small city apartment.

The upside of Café Press is that they make it possible for me to put my stuff out there for those who like it. The downsides are 1) I make almost no money (usually a dollar or two per item); and 2) I can only sell what they choose to stock.

When I first opened the shop I got a query about extended (XL and above) sizes and I wrote to Café Press asking why those sizes were not available for most garments. I also asked whether they might consider making them available. The response I got was, in effect, "because they're not, and no."

It bothers me to no end that XL is the upper limit for much of what's there, and if I were running my own operation this would not be so.

So, yes, Anonymous, I would like "to make a mint," but even more I would like anybody who wants Dolores on a t-shirt to be able to have Dolores on a t-shirt. I happen to be related to many bodacious, ample women and men and count even more of them among my friends. It drives me cuckoo what they have to go through to get decent clothes. When my financing materializes, we'll make it happen. Count on it.

In the meantime, I'm working on buttons. One size fits all. It ain't much, but maybe it will help.

Patience Is a Virtue

I said I would post the camp photos later this week, and I will. Just cross your legs and wait.

Also, regarding two bitchy comments on yesterday's cartoon, my calves actually do look like that, Jon and Joe, and I would think you might have noticed. I'm quite hurt by your inattentiveness and will require consolation gifts of expensive chocolate and/or yarn.

In the meantime, this is a rough of a possible shop design inspired by my recent forays into the hinterlands of Indiana and Wisconsin.

Whatcha think?

Oopsie

There's an old corollary to Murphy's Law that says you can make a system foolproof, but you can't make it damnfoolproof.

Le damnfool, c'est moi.

Yesterday, with consummate skill, I located and slipped through a loophole in the Café Press system that allowed me with one click to delete every single item in my shop.

If I only I could extend such a feat of legerdemain to the staff in my office.

Anyhow, I spent about an hour banging my face against the desk, and then decided to suck it up and look at this as a much-needed opportunity to renovate. I never expected the shop to grow the way it has, and it has the gangly look of a teenage girl still wearing her Osh Kosh overalls after a growth spurt.

Rebuilding will be gradual, as I'm just a touched swamped at present. Everything that was there before will be back, either the same or improved. I've already introduced something new that I hope will give you giggle. I'm afraid it may be tough to read at a size that will fit in here, so click it for a larger view if your eyesight ain't what it used to be.

All these signs, by the way, are actual designs in use along American highways. As with so many other things, however, I feel one should be a knitter to appreciate them fully.

Sheep Shop Shipshape

I put Uppity Dolores , Singles Bar, and the Itchy Lamb into the shop today. The first two are on shirts for now, but when I have a moment to adapt the images for cards, notebooks, pedicure sets, and so forth, I'll add them in. As always, if you want something, ask.

I realized the shop is getting a little large and unwieldy, so I've begun renovations. Should you venture forth to browse, kindly watch your step and keep an eye out for flying objects. I'm hoping the new arrangement will make it a bit easier to see what's available.

It's a lot of work, but fortunately I have assistance.



It's going to be a long weekend.

Knaughty

Don't look, Mom.

In response to a shocklingly large number of requests from borderline pervy readers, I've added the following to the shop.


I realize this is oxymoronic. If you're wearing the "Knit Knaked" shirt, you may be knitting, but you won't be naked. I suppose you could be wearing only the shirt, and knitting. If you choose to do this, please do not send me photos of it.*

"Knit Knaked" is on men's and women's clothes right now, including the first item of lingerie to appear under my shingle, but if there are calls for it I can put it on a bag, a mug, a magnet, a teddy bear. Whatever tickles your deviant little hearts.

As for more Dolores swag, I'm working on it. Notecards will be next.

*Unless you are one of the guys on my "special list." That means you, Stephen Fry.

Something for the Boys

With Rhinebeck looming (a pun, ha ha) my schedule is getting very tight, but I've managed to add one more design to the shop, available on shirts and two styles of bag. [Late addition: It's on a coffee mug now, too. Without the caption, it fit very nicely indeed.]

[Much later addition: it's on women's clothes as well.]


If you want to see a larger version, click this one.

For the time being, I'm only putting it on men's clothes. Even with Adam's goodies covered up by a ball of worsted this just didn't strike me as being unisex. If I'm wrong about that, I have a feeling y'all will let me know.

Somebody asked if it's okay with me if images get lifted from my blog and used elsewhere in non-profit settings. While I know perfectly well I can't stop you, I'd rather you didn't, please. The little daily cartoons are one thing - if you want to stick them in your personal blog and give me credit and a link, that's perfectly cool. But the stuff that goes on sale in the shop is a different matter.

I work very hard on these, silly as they are, and they are subject to copyright laws. (No, I don't hold the copyright on the Sistine Chapel, but I do hold the copyright on my designs, drawings, and photographs.)

This being the Internet, all I do is hope you'll be nice and consider the laws of karma before you right-click.

Rhinebeck Schedule

Coming to Rhinebeck? Wanna say hi? Please do. Check out QueerJoe's blog for information about when I'll be there, and where. I plan to follow my guides and hosts around obediently and try not to say anything too stupid.

I also checked with the landlords and confirmed that sheep, however small they may be, are strictly prohibited under the terms of my lease. Poop.

Mailbag

One of my boss's favorite sayings is "A successful child has many parents." (This is how he justifies the upper management's annoying habit of taking credit for my work.) When the Rhinebeck sweater is finished, it will be thanks in large part to the helpful advice and encouragement I've received from all of you.

Roggey and Judy Foldi wrote in and outed themselves as fellow fans of British historical TV series.

Judy asked if I'd seen The Pallisers. You betcha, Judy. Love it. I own the first series on DVD and am making my way through the others thanks to the kind people at Netflix. It's especially fun watching the original Forstye Saga (the peerless black-and-white version) and The Pallisers in alternation, in order to enjoy Susan Hampshire playing a sunny, frivolous idiot in the latter and a sunny, frivolous bitch in the former.