www.knitfreak.com/blog

So I am a big believer in having a knitting library. I love books, even if they aren’t about knitting, and when I started the hobby it was just a natural extension to want to have some resources for it. Magazines are a great way of getting up-to-date fashions for only a small expenditure, and I am a HUGE fan of Interweave Knits. I figured that I might as well start to post an entry here and there when I add a new addition (or when I am severly lacking in actual knitting content) and I may even delve into the “already existing” stash of books I have if need be.

This season’s Interweave didn’t quite hit the spot for me. I would say that I can appreciate at least half of the designs, on average, and actually enjoy at least a quarter of them. This time around things that really caught my eye were a little scarce. And I hate the new layout.

Yes, I read the editors intro about change, yada yada. But honestly, it’s so hard to tell what they have patterns for now - I can’t tell the difference between an ad and a design. It is the thing I hated most about Vogue, and now Interweave is doing it too. And yes, it’s nice that they can fit more into the magazine now, but this time around it was just more crap.

Okay, not all of it is bad. I LOVED this:

Of course they made it the cover. It’s the best thing in the magazine. Cute, fresh, SPRING! Although, the Eunny socks are a very, very close second:

Not that I will be able to fit them over calves that are closer to a tree trunk than anything that should be on a human body. That statement is more accurate than you know. I have never found a pair of knee-high boots that would fit my size 7 foot and manage to stretch over the blindingly white expanse of calf that is my lower leg.

Also, how cool is it that Eunny is the new editor of Interweave? All of her stuff is so damn classy, I really can’t wait to see how the magazine evolves under her guidance.

And this cardigan, while having some features I normally wouldn’t dig like asymetrical sides, is a definite must-make for me. I love a good cardigan!

I also kinda liked the sweater out of Bamboo, but that yarn is so freakin’ expensive. Yeah, I could substitute, but it wouldn’t have the same drape. So while it’s alright, I will never make it:

Whenever a new issue comes out of a popular knitting publication, I wonder about all the submissions that didn’t make it in. There must be dozens of designers out there who spent weeks thinking, drafting, swatching, and finally knitting something to submit. All of that effort, and yet it doesn’t make the cut. Thoughts like this are brought to the forefront of my mind when I see actual patterns for stuff like this:

What. The. Fuck.

Really? There was nothing, out of all the other submissions and hard knitterly work, that deserved to be published above this one? Nothing? Not a simple sock pattern, not a hat, some scarf, a dishcloth? Even a random swatch?!?! I think I might even prefer to just see a plain ol’ ball of yarn to this. Is someone going to actually knit this? Or, beyond that, wear it?

I know that there was a designer behind this article that probably worked hard at this … thing … and I do have a tinge of guilt for bashing it. But let’s be real here. This is a magazine with a history of knits that go beyond what I can find in the numerous other knitting magazines out there. Interweave has a history and standards to uphold, and this is NOT it. This belongs in “Knit It!” or “Knit N Style” or “Easy Knitting”. Not Interweave. I almost left this issue on the shelf because the thought of this design making the cut above anything else was so horrific to me that I didn’t want Interweave to think I actually liked something like this.

Please, Interweave. Don’t ever publish something like this again. For the love of all that is holy, we need your sanity in a world of fun-fur scarves, patterns for washclothes, and drop-sleeved sweaters. We want the reassurance that you will provide us with the intarsia, ethnic patterns, intricate cabling and classic designs that we love, and even need. I’m keeping my eye on you, hoping with bated breath that my eyes will never have to look at something like this on your pages again.