indie.knits

It's almost the end of the semester again. I had an uneventful Thanksgiving spent with some new friends, some old friends, and many a bottle of good wine, and then Bethany and I were up until the wee hours of the morning knitting and watching Forensic Files on Friday night. On the way home, we slipped on the ice and laughed and talked in silly accents. Overall, was a very productive weekend - I got some knitting done, but I also wrote a 10-page paper for the class I'm taking on Hiroshima.

On the knitting front, I finished the Gentleman's Sock in Lozenge Pattern. There is a slight gauge difference between the ribbing of the two socks, I think because I started the first on size 0 bamboo needles, then broke one and borrowed a set of (much nicer, much, much faster) metal needles from Bethany. The socks were intended for the boy person, but instead I will be keeping them - silly me didn't bother to do a gauge swatch, so they fit my feet instead of the Curmudgeon's. Ah well.

That being said, these socks are gorgeous. They are very polished, which I tend to like in clothing. The lines of purls almost create an argyle pattern, and although I don't tend to think of the color, a royal blue, as pretty, it is kind of perfect in its own way.

I also did way too much shopping. After finishing my paper, I walked down to the local bead shop/clothing store and bought a black tunic with a diagonal violet pattern, intending to wear it with a sequined belt that my grandmother sent me (which is totally not my style all - I have been struggling to find an outfit that I could possibly wear it with that would not make me feel completely self-conscious and dopey). When I got home, I excitedly snatched the tunic out of my bag, threw it on, looped the belt about my waist.... and then got suddenly very much less excited. The shirt just did not work. With the belt, it clung in all the wrong places and made me look tremendously long-waisted, which I am decidedly not. Without, it looked like I was wearing a sack. Or possibly a mu-mu. Either way: not good.

So today, I returned the cute but terribly unflattering tunic, and exchanged it for a cream-colored sweater with eyelets and puff sleeves that makes me look like my mom, circa 1975. Much, much better.