FO: Fantastic Mister Faux

I'm a little fascinated by the relic of the 1920's and 30's: the fox stole. Why anyone would think that an animal carcass with facial features and feet slung over their shoulders is beyond me. But still. It exudes a certain glamour.

Fur has gone out of style, and for good reason- it's heartbreakingly cruel, right up there with foie gras and veal. I really only see it being worn by the Russian Trophy Wives that go on discount shopping trips in my neighborhood (along with heels that I, a high-heel wearer, can only dream of walking in) and sometimes an eccentric older lady will be donning a full-length mink that looks like it's seen better days.

Just before Christmas, we were invited out to one of those grand corporate parties of awkwardness and much drinking. Last minute I was told that it had a 1920's theme. I dug through my stash and came up with the very last novelty yarn I could unearth, and set to work to make a little glamour for my night.











Well, we were pretty much the only people to dress up costumey (which was fine, because their was no real theme going on after all except for excess everything...like southern food). Techie people aren't known for their creativity in their wardrobes. We did see a lot of pleated pants, and quite a few untucked and rumpled shirts restraining a lot of pasty white skin, and red, computer screen strained eyes. Ah well. For this one night, we looked fabulous dahhling, fabulous, if only because very few other fish were in the sea.



The bad thing about the party that it was so huge and spread out, you couldn't find a bar that had the same theme twice. Mixing is bad, people. Champange from the fountain and shots from the vodka luge and a whisky bar and a beer bar and a wine bar and...oh, hell. I should have just stuck to water.



Here is my foxy faux, up close and personal.



He looks much better now in person- after a night of hard drinking, his eyes were coming loose and were hanging by threads and I almost lost his nose at one point. Fox needs to change gears, maybe not do so much damage to his liver. Nice doggy.



Also, note the color change we have going on. He was a scrappy fellow, and when I ran out of one color, I just kept going with the next. Also...his front legs are longer than his back, because I ran out of that yarn.

Here's a list of the yarn that went into him.

Crystal Palace Yarns Fizz Solid
Crystal Palace Yarns Merino Frappe
Crystal Palace Yarns Splash Print
Sirdar Boa
Suss Yarn Mohair

He's squeaky like plastic. Fantastic plastic.

I used a hair clip for his mouth so he will attach to his tail. The pattern is from Knitty from years and years ago. I actually made one from a kit from a now defunct website that made such kits and I gifted that fox to a fabulous glamourpuss friend of mine. This was what I had for leftovers from the kit and other assorted scraps. It only took a couple hours to whip up, finishing and all. It's only really tricky because holding a lot of novelty yarn together makes a mess of your stitches, but it also hides any mistakes you might make.

He's currently elegantly draped across the back of my sofa. Sometimes I hold him in my lap and pet him. I'm creepy like that.

FO: Insane Clown will Eat Your Brains

I made a sweater. I dislike the way it turned out. It's the Caftan Pullover by Norah Gaughan from the Spring 2006 issue of Interweave Knits.

It was supposed to look like this:

Pretty, right? It's all bohemian floaty and comfy. I might go to a gallery and spend the day decoding some modern art and then sip cappuccinos and nibble little cookies which cause me to not gain weight or have wild mood swings because of my blood sugar crashing afterwards. La vie est belle.

I cast on for it and started on my way. I do love Norah Gaughan and cables and sweaters and I'm even starting to like silk a little bit more. The cables are fun, and I liked the yarn despite the yarn being a slippery silk novelty yarn- Berroco Ultra Silk. It's a silk knit tube with a nylon roving core. Using size 9 needles this moved along nicely. It's such a pretty shade of summery beach blue.



I made the front, I made the back. I seemed them up. Then I realized: because the front is heavier than the back with all those lovely cables, it stretches out alarmingly more than the back. Even though I made them the exact same length and seemed the armholes so they match perfectly, the front just hangs down lower, like a tumor. A floppy, heavy tumor.





Also, because I still have a bit of dignity left, I seamed up the front panels instead of leaving my ta-tas to awkwardly flop around in the breeze. One the model, it works for her, but she's doing nothing but drinking soy half-caf skim lattes and batting her eyelashes at the off-duty fireman in the corner. Also, because the yarn is mostly silk, there's no way to keep the neckline opened up and keep from rolling over. Silk has not structure and it just wants to collapse in a heap. So it got seamed.

Except, seamed, the two front panels create a face.



A deranged clown face. This is almost as rich as people seeing the image of the virgin Mary in their toast or other mundane everyday objects- except this one isn't a peace and comfort to anyone. Insane Clown is Out to Get You.



It can not be unseen. I put the sweater on and then I break out in a cold sweat, get twitchy and then spend about 20 minutes trying to get this thing off me. Like it's a cicada clinging to me. GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF ME! Sadly, it does not. Insane Killer Clown Face is here to stay. It terrifies me, and I can really only blame the book "It" for all this.

Also, I didn't make sleeves. I couldn't give the clown any more power over me than he already has.

Ah well. You win some, you lose some. Novelty yarn + complicated pattern= the potential for Insane Clown to appear. The Insane Clown will appear to you someday in something you do- or does he just appear to me?

It's Magic!

A bizarre series of events led to this mystery novelty yarn to be in the same room as a dusty Magic Eye book. My eyes keep fuzzing out just thinking about it. How uncanny.