A Bright Green Light

As I promised in my very first post, I am revisiting the topic of my most favorite emerald green hat! I finished it almost one year ago, and it is probably my proudest knitting accomplishment so far. (Aside from some cozy, wool socks!) I feel this way about it because despite some setbacks and challenges, it turned out just right. When I wear it, I feel like it has a magical quality. Even on the darkest winter day it brightens my eyes and my cheeks and gives a much needed lift to my spirit. It’s so comfortable that it starts to feel like a part of me, and on many occasions I have forgotten to take it off indoors! Recently I wore it through an entire lunch at Cracker Barrel—by the fireplace!

The hat, the myth, the legend. 

A few years ago I picked up a copy of Debbie Stoller’s Stitch ‘N Bitch: Superstar Knitting for reasons that were equal parts inspiration and aspiration. I wanted to get better at cables, color work and maybe even try my hand at lace. I literally found new inspiration with the turn of every page. It was almost sensory overload! Stockings, sweaters, blankets and even a few (eep!) dresses make up this well rounded but advanced resource. It is a far cry from Stitch ‘N Bitch: The Knitter’s Handbook, which guided me through the early days of my first shaky knit stitches. Although I had come a long way, I still questioned if I was truly ready for this tome.

One particular pattern held my gaze the longest, and that was the Gretel Tam, designed by Ysolda Teague. The sophisticated cables and twists immediately fed my fascination with all things Irish/Scottish/Welsh or English. The tam style reminded me of the gripping 1791 fright-fest poem, Tam O’Shanter by Robert Burns. It was official: This hat was for me. Whatever nerves I had over unfamiliar abbreviations such as “T3F,” “T3B” or whatever the heck “Pfb” was would be dealt with head on. I had to create it no matter what.

Tam O'Shanter and his horse, Meg, being chased by supernaturals.

It was now the third week of 2013, and Emerald was the Pantone Color of the Year. I love all variations of green, and had hoped to incorporate this vibrant shade in at least one of my projects. Needless to say, I was beyond excited when I found the most stunning ball of emerald green merino wool among my tried and true Cascade Yarns. Even more evidence that this hat was meant to be. I went home and jumped into it head first…

As usual, I chose a pattern that was a little too advanced for me. I had two false starts. After the first nine rounds, the pattern would command me to, “m1.” I interpreted it as a regular knit stitch increase. WRONG! This is actually an increase where you pick up a bar and knit it through the back loop between two stitches. I finally looked this up after two unravelings. By now I was done with making assumptions and the, “I’ll figure it out myself” attitude. It wasn’t getting me anywhere! When it comes to knitting, if you don’t know about something, you can’t magically piece it together. You must get over yourself and go consult someone or something. Humbled, I went to YouTube (haha) and typed in any and all abbreviations I was unsure about. 

Another diagram from my trusty 1973 copy of The Concise Knitting Book. 

Nice, plain English. 

After several rounds of video watching, I went back to work with a stronger sense of respect for the process. I slowly knitted, purled, twisted and cabled while taking deep breaths. I realized I could do this as long as I slowed down and chilled out. I annotated the pattern and counted stitches like crazy. I’m pretty sure I used most of my stitch markers. (I always mean to buy more, but getting around to it is another thing.) When it was time to switch to double pointed needles, I stayed up very late until I finished. By then I was in “the zone,” and a little thing like the time of night/morning wasn’t going to stand in the way. I had crossed the bridge from uncertainty and frustration into a place of absolutely loving what I was doing. If anything was worth an all-nighter, it was this!

In progress

As per the finishing instructions, I blocked my hat on a dinner plate! For any flat beret or tam pattern, this is the best little trick. A Frisbee would work, too. I allowed three whole days to pass to be one hundred percent sure that the cable-twist pattern had, “set.” Despite the milder temperatures, I took it with me everywhere through March.

Fast forward one year later, and I am pretty sure that this hat has saved my life--or maybe just my health. Winter came on strong and early. During this time I found myself with a long commute into D.C. and a walk that added up to eight blocks a day. It was doable, but not exactly fun in the “cold November rain.” Whatever the temperature is, you can guarantee that it feels twenty degrees colder down on the Metro platforms. Add on the typical delays, and I spent quite a bit of time out in the cold. At the end of some days, I would feel pretty tired and ragged. I thought that I probably didn’t look very good, but then I would glimpse my reflection in one of the train windows and see myself in the hat. I actually looked kind of cute, and I realized I was stronger than I thought. I began to imagine myself as a bright green light in the gray city streets. It helped infuse me with the positive energy needed to go home and prepare for another day. 

That’s part of the magic of handmade things. The maker infuses their items with love for the craft or for the people to whom they give their creations. Love begets more love. For me, my green hat lit up my heart on cold, stressful nights. It reminded me of going through a challenge and coming out better on the other side. 

And that's the story!