Argyle!

For some time now I’ve been scouring yard sales and second-hand stores for vintage knitting patterns, for their graphic appeal as much as for the esoteric information stuffed inside. Last weekend, while leafing through the “Hand Knit Socks by Beehive” book, I thought it might be time to take a stab at a pair of argyle socks. I remember my Mom making them for my uncles when I was a little girl. Sure wish I’d paid more attention!

The classic argyle diamond (or lozenge) pattern was derived from the clan tartans of the Scottish highlands in the region of Argyle, specifically the Campbell tartans. Originally, these patterns were woven, with knitted versions appearing in England and the US after the first world war. The ever-natty Duke of Windsor helped to popularized the design, wearing it as part of his golf attire. (Incidentally, the argyle pattern has been adopted by my favorite cycling team, Garmin-Slipstream, known as “The Argyle Armada” so I figured I’d better take a crack at it 🙂

In the process, I’ve discovered a couple of delightful new yarns. For starters, Berroco Ultra Alpaca Fine…just when you thought Ultra Alpaca couldn’t get any better, they come out with a sock yarn. Regia has invented an utterly delicious blend of merino and angora (I have future plans for this yarn) and the Araucania I was sure I didn’t like has shown itself to be a real gem.

Knitted argyle patterns are generally worked using the intarsia technique; each color block is knitted using a separate ball or bobbin. Yarns are twisted at the color changes to avoid creating a hole. (Simple enough if one can manage all those stringy balls.) The strange part is working back and forth while knitting an article that began in the round. It feels very counter-intuitive, especially since it means a seam up the back of the sock.

In the hope of eliminating the seam, I tossed the Beehive book aside thinking there must be a better way. The most-touted modern method is wrap-and-turn. Yuck. Nasty. Back I went to the old Beehive pattern which works in a little, knotty selvedge edge at the beginning and end of each row which can then be mattress-stitched together. As determined as I was to avoid a seam, this old method is really the best and because of the selvedge, the seam is barely noticeable.

And speaking of interesting seams, this pattern book includes instructions for a nifty little contrivance called “The Aladdin Heel”. This magical heel is knitted in such a way that, in the event of a hole, the heel stitches can be unravelled and re-knit without unravelling the entire foot. Neat, huh!?!

It’s very quaint and useful but honestly, for all the extra seaming and weaving in of ends, I think I’d rather darn 🙂