With the Urban Aran nearly knitted, and a plane ride to Colorado coming up this week, I decided it was time to gear up for the next project (I didn't think my coach row-mates would appreciate my 14-inch Brittany's). Never mind that I have two other WIPs, the Jaywalker socks and My So-Called scarf (which is really just an exercise in Malabrigo). These are just the projects I admit to being on the needles. I also have just a few UFO's lurking: a pair of toe-up socks, a branching out scarf, and the back of the beaded kaftan in Debbie Bliss #5, bought before I knew what a stockinette sweater really meant.
Ignoring all of that, I've decided to dive into Norah Gaughan's Capecho from the Vogue Knitting Winter 2006 issue. I've been drawn to this sweater since I first saw it - the construction seems ingenious, the sweater is stunning. I never had a chance.
There are, of course, a few warning signs. Let's think about the word: capecho. A joining of cape, and poncho. Both are flowy, wrapping, loose. Now, take another look at the picture. Nothing about really evokes either a cape or a poncho. Or a wrap, shawl, blanket, or tent.
If "capecho" didn't give it away, the grisly images from the Craftster knit-along and knit lit's hilarious letter to Norah should have. And yet, I'm jumping in - I was doomed from the start. There is some hope, at the end of that thread, though, and I'm going to reach for it with everything I have.
Perhaps the knitting projects I am drawn to will stand in for a personality trait that I (mercifully) am without. My knitting will be the equivalent of "bad boys" -- projects to be tamed, trained, and changed. This idea never seemed fair or sensible to me romantically, but this sweater has has changed all of that (too bad it's all white and soft, and not black leather -- the sweater you can't bring home to Mother).
And yet, still, I'm going to attempt it. More to come.