Designed for Hope
I am proud to present this post as part of a paid partnership with Knit Picks, a company I have patronized for many years and whose products and service I trust. All thoughts and opinions are my own, unedited and unaltered as always.
There was a moment that forced a long, rusty lever to move, this kind of steel bar pointing up at an angle like a needle reading some kind of gauge, though I’m not sure at all what it’s meant to measure. It tilted forward, pointing not quite toward the sky, but certainly a mountaintop somewhere. Then something forced it in the opposite direction, sent it screeching in the twilight and shifted the rails of my life for a time, just slightly, but more than enough to change my course. Maybe I’m the one who put my hands to the lever, leaned my weight against it and shoved. But I don’t remember doing it. I do, however, remember looking at the track I was on and wanting off. I do remember thinking that the work I was doing was not what I thought it would be. I do remember feeling like the force that had recently been madly shoveling coal into the fire of my belly was good and truly gone.
Although I have published a handful of my own design work over the last few years, it has been an infrequent exercise, consisting mainly of forcing myself into finishing patterns began once upon a time. The coals were gone, the tracks had shifted, and I was on a course that required me to make an uneasy peace with that fact. The forward motion just wasn’t there.
I’ve written many times about the creative gap design work had filled for so many years in my authentically and chronically suburban mom life. And then it didn’t. It has only been in the last few months that I have felt anything like the inertia of my my most productive design season, and that was all begun with the Herbaceous Cardigan, shown here in the phenomenal, affordable, and striking wool fiber, Wool of the Andes Tweed from Knit Picks.
I’ve given some thought as to why designing has been revitalized for me beginning with the simple cardigan, and there are a few reasons that I think might resonate with you, regardless of what your particular creative work is.
I’m not forcing it. I’ve stepped back into a creative flow. The energy is there, and I’m ready to tap into, while still honoring the season in which it was absent. Looking back on previous seasons of creativity, there were moments of pushing in when I should have been holding space open for reflection and rest. I’m also not forcing the designs themselves. I have a vision of creating designs that don’t feel the need to announce themselves, but will surely be around for the long haul. I want to make heirlooms with an aura of effortlessness, not quick fixes that rely on trend or gimmicks. Many of my older designs are congruent with this goal; some of them are not, and those are the patterns I’m always tempted to go back and change. Now, I’d rather pass over a piece if it isn’t feeling completely right. I’d rather wait and work slowly on a thing that will stay with me for the whole entire haul.
I’m using my work to make the world a more open place in small, tangible ways when I am able. Specifically, I’m working toward more inclusivity in my designs. The Herbaceous Cardigan fits a wide range of sizes with an open shape, and future designs will offer even broader size accessibility. Because I am not a person who has ever experienced a lack of accessibility in garments due to my body, it is not for me to say whether or not the sizes I offer are sufficient. However, the prospect of digging in to expanded size grading in order to open up the world in a small way is very exciting. My goal is to render size grading in a way that is more than just available. I want it to be beautiful, and to do this well will take more time during the design process.
I’ve pushed past the point of constant influence. Influence and inspiration are important factors in developing a particular design style or voice. I still admire many different designs others have created, but I’m much less influenced by other’s work. Because of this, I feel less pressure to keep up, I feel less pressure to stand out, and I feel more freedom to make what I like.
I’m balancing perfection with flexibility. I have never, ever been a perfectionist. Because of this, I’ve published patterns with plenty of errors in the past, learning as I went how to mitigate this weakness. Now, I have realized that a slower pace is the most important tool I have to push as close to perfection as I can before sharing my work. I don’t fret if there is a small, fixable error that slipped through the cracks-I never have-but I am far more confident that the likelihood of that happening is low because I am more thorough and deliberate than ever.
I’m using materials I can afford that are also high quality. I’ve run the gamut from the cheapest of cheap acrylic box store yarn, to speciality fibers made with mulberry silk and single source wool. Through my years of exploration in slow fashion, I’ve learned what my priorities are as a steward of supplies and materials. I want to prioritize natural materials that will biodegrade. I’m not legalistic about avoiding acrylic, but I will try to opt for natural matters if possible. Wool is obviously a favorite-if I can source it from a country I know has high standards of animal care, I will. Linen and cotton are lovely, though I am cognizant of the water usage needed to produce them. Tencel is fantastic. However, I need to balance these choices with affordability and access in order to act wisely as a steward in both managing finances and consuming materials responsibly. I enjoy purchasing from Etsy shops who reclaim yarn. I also purchase from larger companies who offer more sustainable choices, like Wool and the Gang. Of course, I love the selection and accessibility of Knit Picks, which have a wide selection of natural fiber, including a handful of up cycled ranges. Most importantly, I plan carefully to avoid impulse buying and I use what I have first. These practices are another way I am blending some of my care values for living (simplicity, stewardship, creation care) with design work, revitalizing my motivation to create anew.
I don’t share every experiment I try. I went through a long phase during which almost every idea I had turned into a finished pattern. Sometimes this worked out well. Most of the time, that piece should have stayed in my notebook or as a swatch. I have learned how to better discern which designs deserve more time and intention.
I am creating with hope. This is the most powerful shift I have experienced. I feel that, perhaps, what is propelling me forward, gaining momentum as I go, is the idea that I am designing for a future moment when you, dear reader, might pick up a pattern and make something yourself with an eye toward tomorrow. This work isn’t static-it is alive. It is a series of contemplative stitches with a purpose for many tomorrows.
This cardigan is such a representation of all I’ve shared today. It is unforced and easy, it is built for the comfort of many bodies, it is authentically my own, and it was created with an eye for detail and, above all, hope for many years of use in a rich and beautiful future. I am so grateful to Knit Picks for allowing me to share my work with their beautiful fiber, Wool of the Andes Tweed in the color Barn Door. This fiber has the hearty wooliness and soft, rich color palette that lends itself perfectly to such a design. Please feel free to use the affiliate links provided to browse the available colors-they are all lovely and I’d be tickled to see any of you create The Herbaceous Cardigan using them.
I hope my thoughts on creative revitalization resonated with you today. Whatever track you’re on at the moment, I hope its just where you are meant to be-I know I am, and it feels good!
xo Nicole
