A Best Selling Pattern Booklet

In working on the Knitting and Crochet Guild's collections, I recently branched out from sorting magazines to sorting pattern leaflets, of which we have thousands.   (Many thousands, we think - hard to tell, when they are mostly in unsorted boxes and haven't been separated into different spinners.)

We have been trying to make sense of the Patons and Baldwins numbering system (so far without a great deal of success).  Patons and Baldwins were two separate long-established spinners when they merged in 1920, and the company still exists (as Patons) in the Coats group.  There are a lot of pattern leaflets and booklets to sort that were issued by Patons & Baldwins from the 1920s onwards, and I have been working on some from the later 1940s and 1950s - 9 boxes of them.

Because they haven't been properly sorted before, there are many that are duplicated, and I think that the ones that we have multiple copies of are likely to be those that P&B sold a lot of.  It's interesting to see which they are - we have catalogues of leaflets from various dates, but they don't give any idea of which were successful.  So what kind of patterns turn up over and over again in the boxes of unsorted leaflets?  The answer is, overwhelmingly, patterns for baby clothes.

One booklet in particular, The Quickerknit Baby Book, I found over and over again and it had clearly been reprinted several times, because there were copies with several different prices.  In fact, it must have been Patons & Baldwins best-selling booklet ever.  It was first published in 1956, and according to Michael Harvey in his book Patons: A Story of Handknitting, it was still selling strongly in 1985 and had by then sold 3 million copies - an astonishing number.  

Why was this booklet so  popular, over such a long period? By chance, I found in the collections a copy of the P&B list of new booklets for February 1956, when SC44 first appeared, and it says that it "is the first publication to feature Patons Quickerknit Baby Wool, Patonised".  Quickerknit Baby Wool is described as "thicker than 4-ply and finer than double knitting" - evidently double knitting was not thought suitable for babies, but this would knit up more quickly than 4-ply.  "Patonised" wool was treated to be shrink-resistant. 

Quickerknit Baby Wool must have proved very popular, and that would explain why the first patterns published for it would have sold well.  But why did SC44 continue to sell for 30 years?   The patterns in it don't seem very unusual or especially attractive.  There are two cardigans, a matinee coat, a pair of bootees and a pram set. The pram set consists of a bonnet, a coat, a pair of leggings and a pair of mitts, so that the baby is clothed from head to toe, literally, in woolliness.  Who was knitting pram sets in 1985?  They were probably very necessary in the 1950s, when babies spent a lot of time in their prams.  (There were far fewer cars than now, so prams were the main way of transporting a baby.  There was also a theory that babies should be put outside in their prams for day-time naps, to get the benefit of fresh air - although before the Clean Air Act came into force, it's doubtful whether there was much fresh air in towns and cities.)   But by 1985, in my experience, babies were no longer wearing clothes of this sort.        

So I don't know why SC44 continued to be such a huge best-seller.  The baby isn't even especially cute. 

A New Pin

My bronze award pin

I went to give blood this week, and it turned out that it was my 10th donation (at least in recent years).  I was given a "Bronze Award Pack" containing a thank-you note and a pin.

In fact, I have donated more than 10 times - I became a blood donor when I was 18 and a university student, and the Transfusion Service used to come to the university once a term to collect blood.  But later, it got more difficult to find out when and where the donor sessions were, and I gave it up. It's easier now, because the Service keeps track of its donors - you can make appointments in advance, and they send reminder letters.  

I felt quite proud of myself when I got my pin - 10 donations is quite a lot of blood. I'm not likely to achieve my father's record, though - he had a tie-pin of a similar design to my pin, for making 50 donations.    

I'll put my pin on my knitting bag, where there is a small collection of pins already,  including the one that says "I knit therefore I am". 

Felt Slippers

I have worn the same kind of slippers for years - suede moccasins with a woolly lining, bought from the leather shop in the Shambles in York.  I must have bought around a dozen pairs by now.  But my current pair split at the toe when they were still quite new, so I do not love them any more.    I have been pondering what kind to buy instead, and thinking of some (very expensive) felt slippers I saw featured  in a magazine a few years ago, and then had an inspiration:  I am knitting again!  You can knit things and felt them! I can make felt slippers!   I consulted a friend who does a lot of felting and she pointed me to Mindie Tallack's Duffers pattern, free from here.    So I have made a pair.

They are really quick to make - you use super chunky wool on 8mm needles.  You cast on 64 stitches (for the largest size) and work just 19 rows before casting off.   (Of course, there are several increases and decreases in betweeen, otherwise it wouldn't be slipper-shaped).    I used Filzwolle by Four Seasons Gründl which comes in a range of variegated colours. 



I put them through the washing machine twice - the first time they came out still too big.  So I stopped being careful and put them in a regular wash at 40 degrees with a 1400 rpm spin, with a load of other things - all the things you should never do with untreated wool - and they came out teeny-tiny.  Fortunately, the pattern says not to worry if they come out too small because you can stretch them to fit your feet, by putting them on while they are still damp.

They are really comfortable to wear because they fit so well.  So, no more moccasins!

        
 
Apologies for the slightly weird colour of the photos.  They originally showed the wool as very blue, but overall it's a mixture of greens.  I adjusted the colour, but the slightly green tinge to my feet is not natural, I assure you. 

Shopping in a Crochet Dress

Back in March, I wrote about the Hand Made Tales exhibition at the Women's Library in London - here's the link to my post.  One of the items in the exhibition was a copy of Stitchcraft from March 1965, and the caption said that the dress featured on the front was designed by Eve Sandford, a knitwear designer who had fulfilled a long-standing ambition to have one of her designs on the cover of Stitchcraft. 

Stitchcraft, March 1965

That issue of Stitchcraft has now come to light at Lee Mills, so I can show Eve Sandford's design.  It turns out that it is actually crocheted not knitted, but I suppose I shouldn't be prejudiced against it for that reason. The man is wearing a knitted cardigan, and it looks as though they have been shopping.  He seems to have bought a barometer, and what looks like a bronze statuette.   I can't work out what she has bought - it isn't very heavy, evidently.  There are green leaves sprouting out of the top of the bag, and possibly a trowel handle.  Maybe they have been to a garden centre combined with the 1965 equivalent of an antiques fleamarket.

He is clearly very proud of his new barometer, because he is next shown posing next to it - he has found a good place to hang it in their house.  The cardigan is very smart - just the thing for weekend shopping in the mid sixties, with a knitted tie.

 










Later, they go to a drinks party, and he swaps his cardi outfit for a jacket, and a less casual shirt and tie, whereas she decides that the dress is smart enough for day-into-evening wear. (I think she should have added some jewellery though.) They appear to be swapping opinions on the other guests - not very sociable.



Given the fashions of the time, the dress seems to me a successful design.  Although it now looks too long (to me anyway), the below-knee straight shift dress was very current in the mid-sixties - Mary Quant was only just beginning to introduce the mini-dress that we tend to think of as typical of the whole decade, and Stitchcraft readers would not have been trend-setters.   I think Eve Sandford was quite justified in feeling proud of her achievement.

All Sewn Up

I have finally finished the Martha cardigan that I started back in March.  I actually finished the knitting weeks ago, but it was hanging around for a long time waiting for me to sew it up.  It does seem such an effort to sew the seams, weave in the ends, sew on the buttons, when you could be getting on with the next piece of knitting instead.  It's entirely illogical, I know.

Anyway, it's finished and looks good, though the weather was much too warm yesterday to want to wear it when I modelled it for the photo.  (That won't last, of course - in fact, it is much cooler today).

The colour is quite hard to capture in a photo - it is quite a gray blue, as in the first photo. I have made the sleeves longer than in the pattern, as I said I would back in March.  I have also changed the placement of the buttons a little bit, so that the bottom button coincides with the textured band around the bottom of the cable section - I think that the design is more coherent that way.  I do like the cables a lot and it's good that Sarah Hatton has used them on the back as well as the fronts. The back of a cardigan or jumper is sometimes left plain, which is a pity - the cables make the back more interesting to knit than an expanse of plain stocking stitch, and it looks much nicer, too.  

The neck line has turned out much less scoopy than in the pattern - not sure why.  It wasn't deliberate. Maybe I misread the instructions?  I definitely did misread the instructions at the very beginning, which is why the textured band around the bottom is not quite as deep as it should be.  Altogether, it's surprising that it has turned out so well.

I am now knitting Kate Davies' Deco cardigan. I took the yarn and needles on holiday to Oregon in May, but didn't actually get any knitting done - I didn't even cast on until we got back home again.  The pattern largely avoids the sewing-up problem, because the cardigan is knitted in one piece - there is only a little bit of sewing required, backing the button-band with a strip of ribbon, as far as I can see.  I am up to the armholes, so far.  More later.

That Day We Sang

Last week for my birthday treat, we went to see the new musical by Victoria Wood that was running at Manchester Opera House as part of the Manchester Festival.   It is based on the story of the 1929 recording of Purcell's song Nymphs and Shepherds by a Manchester children's choir and the Halle Orchestra. The record was extremely successful and sold a million copies.  J remembers it being played at his primary school in assemblies or music lessons, in the 1950s, and I remember it from the radio, I think. 


Victoria Wood says in the programme notes that the idea for the musical came from a documentary about the recording that she saw in the 1970s, featuring interviews with people who had been in the choir in 1929 and were by then middle-aged.   Her musical is set in 1929 and 1969, based around the two main characters meeting at a choir reunion after 40 years,  hearing the record again and remembering how their 10-year-old selves had felt on that day.  They start to ask themselves whether they can together rescue their lives from the mundane routine they have sunk into and live the more joyful life that once seemed possible.  And of course, it is very funny and entertaining.  It is not the 1960s of Mary Quant, Twiggy, mini-skirts and Vidal Sassooon haircuts, but of Berni Inns, The Golden Egg and Wimpy Bars. (The audience were mainly of an age to remember all those things and were very appreciative.)  There is a wonderful song-and-dance routine around dinner at a Berni Inn  (melon and maraschino cherry or prawn cocktail, gammon and pineapple, and of course Black Forest gateau).

The 1929 thread in the musical has a choir of local primary school children, playing the original choir, and an 11 year-old actor playing the younger version of one of the main characters.  He does a fantastic job - it is a big part involving singing, dancing and speaking, and this was his professional debut.  There is a YouTube video showing brief extracts from the opening night, so you can see how well the children did.

And you can also hear the original recording on YouTube. The choir mistress in 1929 trained the children to sing for the recording in "received pronunciation" rather than with their usual Mancunian accents - fortunately today's choir sing with their natural vowels. 

We went to Manchester by train and spent the afternoon there.  J took me to a rather ramshackle secondhand bookshop that he knows, near Piccadilly, where I bought a paperback on British Herbs, published in 1949.  Most of the information is still relevant, but the other things are possibly more interesting.  The author writes about Herb Committees being set up during World War II to collect herbs from the countryside when supplies from abroad were no longer available - for instance, 90 tons of dried nettles were collected in 1942, mostly to use as a green dye in making camouflage material.  She discusses the medicinal uses of herbs, as well as their use in cooking, but sometimes she seems very timid about using strong flavours, especially garlic: "Anyone who travels in Italian buses might be forgiven for deciding never to grow this unpleasantly smelling plant, and one can quite appreciate the decision of the old Greeks that people who ate Garlic should not be allowed in the temples of Cybele."  She goes on to say that it is useful in treating various ailments, but clearly does not expect her readers to want to cook with it. How times have changed - I love the smell of garlic in cooking, and in fact, I am going to make a tomato sauce for pasta right now so that I can enjoy that smell..

Vintage Knitwear

I had a birthday this week, and one of the things I got was Vintage Fashion Knitwear by Marnie Fogg.  The subtitle is "Collecting and wearing designer classics", but actually that is quite misleading - the book is almost entirely a survey of the role of knitwear in fashion since the start of the 20th century.  Most of the knitwear featured was commercially produced, and so most is machine knitted, but that is still interesting from the hand knitting point of view, because it shows how fashionable machine-made knitwear influenced the design of hand-knitting patterns - occasionally the opposite, i.e.  how hand knitting influenced fashion. 

It is a very well produced book, with lots of clear illustrations.  Some are contemporary - fashion photos (usually from Vogue) or ads for knitwear manufacturers.  Others are photos of surviving garments, and the author often shows both the whole garment and then one or two small details in close-up, so that it's possible to get a clear idea of  how it was made.  Some of the knitwear is from John Smedley,
a long-established knitwear manufacturer (based in Derbyshire), others apparently come from private collections.  

Altogether it's a really enjoyable book - informative and illuminating.