Vive Ste Anne

26 January is probably the most inappropriate date possible for this subject, but I realised that I hadn't explained the first picture in last week's post, so here goes.

Some time ago, when looking online for a particular image of a woman sewing, I kept coming across picture postcards of women sitting at sewing machines with a vase of flowers placed somewhere totally unsuitable.

Accidents waiting to happen

All of the images, like the three above, had "Vive Ste Anne" on them. I discovered that St Anne's Day is 26 July, i.e. six months from today, and that she is the patron saint of seamstresses. St Anne's Day cards seem to have been very popular, with manufacturers producing lots of variations on a theme.

Clearly all taken at the same time

That particular huge vase appears to have had a lot of use.

Different flowers, sewists and machines, same vase

If you didn't want a vase (or you had already accidentally knocked it onto the floor and broken it), you could just scatter the flowers around instead.

From 1916, one of the earliest examples I found

Or you could relegate them to a nearby table, and have a photograph in the way instead.

A variation on the theme

What almost none of the images show is any understanding of how to actually sew. I'm going to be charitable, and assume that the first one of these was the result of a printing mix-up. The other examples just seem to have completed garments placed randomly under the needle.

Left-handed sewing machine?

How could you even sew like that?

The world's clumsiest alteration

How is she going to get out?

This one is a rare example of something which looks almost realistic. The fact that there is a pin rag wrapped around the machine suggests that it was actually used for sewing, and not just a prop.

The pin rag obscures the last two letters of SINGER

This lady in her very chic 1930s top does also seem to know what she is doing, but I'm intrigued by the fact that two photographs obviously taken in the same session have different names on them. Perhaps the photographer took a lot of shots, and then offered them to different printers. (Also, the only time I ever look that pleased to be interrupted when I'm sewing is if the person is bringing me a cup of tea, but that's by the by!)

"PC" and "FOX"

Then there's a whole category of images which would give health and safety officers nightmares.

Do not point scissors at your eye . . .

or cut things without looking . . .

or guide fabric through the machine with your elbow

All of this (apart from the 'danger to life and limb' pictures, obviously) prompted me to try creating my own St Anne photos. The first one I did aimed for a 1940s look with my Autumn Roses dress, and the second was teens era using my Armistice blouse.

'Sewing' through my press cloths

More random fabric, and an antique thread spool

I was wondering what to do next, as St Anne's Day cards appear to be a 1910s to 1940s thing, and I don't have many 1920s or 1930s clothes. But then, I found this.

1960s?

Challenge accepted. So now I have six months to create something similar!

Plans

I'm hoping to get back behind (in front of?) my machine soon

Initially I wasn't going to make any creative plans for 2025. Both Christmas Day and my birthday earlier this month were completely taken up by having to deal with family issues, and this is only going to happen more frequently, and for longer, in the future. Indeed, part of the reason why I knit so much now is that it's far easier to take that with me when I have to be away from home than taking my sewing. So with all this in mind, there seemed no point in planning any projects.

But then it struck me that this was being a bit defeatist. Yes I may not get much done, but surely it is better to have some plans and accept that they may be derailed, than to not even try. So, with the understanding that these are very much aspirations, here we go.

Historical sewing
The success of my Victorian toile has definitely made me want to revive my 1874 ensemble project.

The ultimate aim

Realistically, there's no chance of me completing the whole thing in a year, but I would like to get the under layers done. I've decided that I do want to make a new corset using this Truly Victorian pattern, as the Laughing Moon one has too little waist definition. After that, the next things to make will be the bustle cage and petticoats. All of these can be done as challenges for the 2025 Historical Sew Monthly (along with a couple of other things, if I really get going), and I'm hoping that this will spur me on.

Stash
I say it every year, and every year I fail dismally - I really want to sew from my stash. The stash shop definitely helps in reminding me what I already have, but not going into fabric shops would be a bigger help. This wonderful Tom Gauld cartoon appeared in The Guardian last year, and I did give serious thought to building something similar for fabric storage!

Painfully relatable

I seem to be having a bit of a confidence crisis about getting things to fit properly, which is putting me off sewing at all, so I need to find a way to address this. Also, I have come to the conclusion that some of the fabric in the stash will never be used, either because my tastes have changed since I bought it, or I should never have bought it in the first place. So there will definitely be some stash reduction this year, as I rehome several lengths with people who will actually use it.

Part of the stash shop - two more used, and one rehoming candidate

Knitting
Having finished both my other projects, I have finally started my Poppy jumper.

The kit for Poppy

I went with my plan to knit the sleeves first, so that they are not waiting for me at the tail end of the project. With 2.75mm needles for the ribbing and 3mm needles for the rest, this is the finest gauge knitting that I have done so far, and it's going to take me a long time. I suspect that another project (with bigger needles) might get picked up for light relief. Even double knitting would feel chunky after this! Which brings me to

Waiting to ambush me

Squirrels
Whether I plan my year down to the last week, or take a more relaxed approach, I know that a squirrel project or two will always come along to disrupt things. Let's just see what 2025 brings, and be grateful for anything that I do get done.

Knitting revisited

You know that feeling when something you think only happened quite recently turns out to be far older? I had that this week. It's been horribly cold here in the UK, and my Raynaud's has really flared up, so I've been wearing my trusty wrist warmers. I thought that they were a couple of years old, but it turns out that I made them in January 2018, so a whole seven years ago!

My third project, so long ago

Anyway, useful though they are, there are a couple of things which get slightly irritating with prolonged use. They are quite long on me, so they get in the way with full-length, close-fitting, sleeves. Because they are just knitted in stocking stitch, they tend to roll at the ends, which causes even more problems with sleeves. And the simple funnel shape means that if I wear them low down my hand, they act like webbing between my thumb and forefinger, which is a nuisance, but if I wear them pushed up then more of my hand is exposed.

Brrrr

None of this is at all the fault of the pattern, which is designed specifically for a beginner knitter. But my knitting has improved over seven years, and I reckoned that with a few tweaks I could make the design work better for me.

In the original, both warmers are knitted identically, and the only difference is where the top edge is sewn together to create the thumb hole.

The original pair before sewing up

I decided to knit a left and a right, by splitting the shape along the line of one set of eyelets so that there were separate thumb and finger sections. I also shortened the pattern, and added ribbing at the top and bottom to stop curling. Completist that I am, I even knitted the initial central column of eyelets to mirror one another; 'yo, k2tog' for one, and 'k2tog, yo' for the other.

The difference is barely visible, but it makes me happy!

My first draft of the amended pattern was surprising accurate for a beginner, and I only had to make a couple of changes as I went along.

The new pair before sewing up

The end result was better than I had dared hope. The length is just right, and I get plenty of hand coverage without losing thumb movement.

All boxes ticked

The versions side by side

Needless to say, the weather started to get warmer just as I was finishing them, but I'm sure they will still get well-used. The project has also boosted my confidence in how well I understand knitting patterns and how I can adjust them. I'm still a long way off the competence I have with sewing patterns, but it's definitely a start.

Off to a good start

I did it! I finished my Lothian shawl, which was my Scottish 60th birthday present to myself, a whole nine days before I turn 61. I'm sure that for some people this would be regarded as cutting it fine, but for me it's a triumph. (This is probably not something to be proud of, but it's how I am, and it's unlikely to change now!)

First make of the year, completed on 3 January!

I spent both Christmas and New Year at my mum's, and a lot of the time was passed just chatting and knitting the final border rows. I still can't knit anything too taxing and hold a conversation, and this is excellent pattern for having something to do while not being anti-social. I decided early on to weave in the ends as I went, and this was definitely a wise choice.

So many ends to weave in!

The pattern for the border consists of two rows of each of the first four 'route' colours, separated by two rows of the background colour. Then one row and the bind off are knitted in the fifth 'route' colour. However, because I was using variegated wools, I decided to do something different to give the shawl a clearer edge. I knitted two rows of the fifth colour, two rows of the background, and then one row and the bind off in a plain grey.

My border

As ever, there was a bit of a difference between the unblocked and the blocked shape.

Unblocked

Blocked

One thing which only became obvious once the shawl was blocked was the colour difference between the two skeins of the background colour; the second skein is slightly lighter. Fortunately, the change occurs at the start of the first 'route', so it isn't at all obvious on one side of the shawl.

Spot the skein change

Because the background yarn is grey with dashes of yellow/gold, and three of the contrast yarns are yellows with odd speckles of grey, there is a fuzziness to the overall colouring which I really like. It certainly captures the notion of a grey Edinbugh sky with glimpses of sunlight through breaks in the cloud, which was exactly what I wanted.

As I explained here, the pattern really appealed to me because of its connection to Edinburgh buses and their routes. I wore the completed shawl today when I went over to Liverpool, and realised that its yellow and grey colour scheme is a fairly close match to that of Merseyrail, the local train network. So I have made something with links to both my birth city and my adopted city - perfect!

When you match your mode of transport