Another Designer's Pattern

Recently, I read a blog post from another designer about how important it is for us, as designers, to knit other designers' patterns. While I totally agree (it's a great way to learn more about construction, pattern writing, get new ideas, etc.), this is FAR easier said than done. I don't have the luxury of hiring a sample knitter, as badly as I want to, so I knit all of my samples myself. It takes up very nearly all of my (limited, with the job) knitting time. I come across patterns that I love and want to knit all the time, but I just file them away in my "someday" queue, knowing full well that it's actually a "only in my head and never for reals" queue.

Well, I got sick of that. I saw this pattern (Beatitude by Katy Banks) in a Knit Picks catalog last fall and was instantly obsessed with it. Like, leave-the-catalog-open-to-that-page-and-leave-it-lying-around-so-I-could-see-it obsessed. I broke down. I bought the yarn. I carved out some knitting time. I STARTED ANOTHER DESIGNER'S PATTERN. And honestly? I need to always have another designer's pattern on the needles. This sweater is my mental break from whatever else I'm working on- I don't have to do any math, or make sure the charts line up, or anything else I have to do when I'm knitting my own designs- and I love it.

It's a top-down yoked cardigan with a steek- this will be my first time steeking, and I admit I'm a bit terrified. I'm at the point now where there are something like 500 stitches in each round, so it's going a bit slow. Also, I don't often get more than 20 or 30 minutes at a time to work on it, so that's probably contributing more to the slow. I think I'm like an inch away from dividing for the sleeves, and honestly, I don't think there's any better feeling than dividing for the sleeves in a top-down sweater. I might truck on today so I can get to that point and rejoice in my knitting prowess. Also I don't have any major designs on the needles, so I can knit on this and not feel guilty! (Who am I kidding, I'll feel guilty anyway. Designer's guilt: it's a disease.)