First Pair of Socks

I finally knit my first pair of real socks on the Autoknitter (also ever), using Roxy's "10 Minute Socks" pattern/recipe. It took me a bit longer than 10 minutes, but I found it a really useful live-trial of working increases/decreases for the toe and heel (not to mention kitchener-stitching the toe).

Et voila:

Socks! In 2-1 mock rib.

I used the 80-cylinder for these. The yarn is Aktiv's "Finnmark" self-striping sock yarn.

Onion Bags

Did some multi-tasking: I have onions that need to be stored after harvest, and an Autoknitter that I needed some practice on. The obvious solution was to knit small onion bags out of scraps of crochet cotton.

Onion socks! And two proper net bags.

I used the opportunity to mess around with the machine's tension, hang hems, learn mock ribs, and do a lot of kitchener stitch on the closed ends. My favorite onion sock is the one knit plain on the loosest machine tension (left of center), which produced the most open web.

Before jumping over to the machine, I did try to hand net bags for all the onions, but found that even with a generous mesh it simply took too long. I'll need to try this again when there's more time and the onions in question haven't already been harvested, cured, and in need of storage bags.

Early Harvest: Summer & Winter Squash

It's been a weird (unusually dry and warm) summer in the garden, which I assume is the reason that several of my winter squash reached their full color and size before most of the summer squash reached edible size. 

 

I expect my plants to be a little idiosyncratic and not always optimized for the climate I'm in: I focus on growing mid-19th century and earlier heritage varieties, because that's what I want to cook with. For instance, my only pumpkin to produce fruit last year (a Connecticut Field pumpkin) was still green when I had to clear my plot. It ripened off the vine, and I ended up saving seeds from it. This year, two of its four offspring had produced orange pumpkins by early September (one of the other two is larger, but dark green, and the fourth plant still only has a tiny fruit on it).

First haul of squash from the garden: two pumpkins, two Boston Marrow (winter) squash and a yellow crook-neck (summer) squash.

 

Original: Fancy Plait Straw Bonnet, c.1855

Bonnet, c.1855. From The Met.

 I've been looking for straw hat ornaments in situ, and this fancy-plait bonnet is one of the better examples. "Better" in the sense that I could see myself attempting to copy at least some of the brim elements, especially if I can get a higher resolution image...

Linen hose

Note much to look at, but I did complete this project: a pair of linen hose which I wore at Faire. Blue-grey mid-weight linen, cut on the bias and hand-sewn. The shape is draped to fit; I usually use this method with cotton knits for 19th century wear, which gives a much closer fit around the ankle. The elongated "D" shape for the foot gusset works, but it looks rather loose at the ankle.

Functional hose, but not pretty.

The draft in The Tudor Tailor is quite similar, but with a more rounded 'gusset' piece. I'll need to try that on my next attempt (since August is precisely when I don't want to wear the wool knit!).

Straw Hat, Rustic Plait

I really needed a lightweight sunshade for Faire, and decided to sew another straw hat. The inspiration for this piece was a particular painting (more on that anon), in which a peasant woman in a market scene wears a wide-brimmed straw hat with no appreciable crown. The hat instead looks like a very shallow basket turned upside down.

 

Top view of the hat.

The hat I made is fully hand-sewn from 20 yards of (commercially-plaited) straw in a 4-strand whole-straw rustic plait. It was sewn freehand, though I blocked the crown flat repeatedly during the early stages of sewing. The sewing process took about 34 event-hours, during which this hat was my main project.

I had intended to block the whole hat over a large, shallow dough bowl of the desired shape, but found that the plait tended to curve downwards naturally as I sewed it. In fact, all of the shaping after the first seven rounds (which were blocked flat until the hat got bigger than a dinner plate) came from the natural curvature of the straw as I tried to sew it as flat as possible. I'm tempted to use it for rougher working impressions at the Fort, since I can document the idea of a flat, home-made, straw hat as a harvest-time sunshade in the 1850s--and 'make a flat hat without a block' is precisely what I was doing here.

 

 

Side view showing the epic shape.

Despite the shape, I found that the straw tends to cling to my hair/coif, and will generally stay put. It's not up to really brisk walks, wind gusts, or bending over to drive tent stakes, but I managed to wear it a whole weekend without any fasteners. I'm tempted to add some woven tapes to the underside (probably to tie under my hair), but the hat does work as is. The whole-straw is heaver than the last hat I made, but lighter than any other reproduction hats I've handled (or any material).

I do not have documentation for the origins of rustic plait. My spreadsheet of Victorian sources does not include any citations which mention rustic as being new or name a date of origin; these same sources claim that whole-straw plaits originated in the 16th century, while split and double plaits were more modern inventions.

*I had remembered this painting as a Bruegel, though I can't find the exact image online, and will need to borrow the book I saw it in to confirm. In my search, I did come across other depictions of straw hats which aren't wholly dissimilar.

Sloping hats from Bruegel's Charitas (1559)

Most of Bruegel's peasants, however, favor straw hats like those above, almost conical except for a small, flat crown. The Corn Harvest shows two women wearing wider, flatter versions of the conical hat, one being distinctly straw-colored and the other black.

Wide hats in Bruegel's The Corn Harvest (1565)

Aertsen's paintings, in contrast, show deeper crowns on the wide-brim straw hats worn by many of the women:

The Vegetable Seller (1567) by Pieter Aertsen

Plain Coif and Forehead Cloth

 

Plain coif and forehead cloth.

More faire-related wardrobe additions. Having decked one coif and forehead cloth in lace and (begun) embroidering the other, I found myself without any fitted headgear appropriate to my lowly social station. That is, it's too hot to wear a respectable late Elizabethan ensemble, so I need a plain coif  to go with my kirtle/smock/apron combo. I could just tie a rail over my hair...but coifs are more fun.

I used a light-weight white linen for both, with bleached 1/4" linen ties on the forehead cloth and a linen cord for the coif.