I might still mess around with the button placement, but the mohair monster is pretty much done.
Pattern: Buttony Sweater (very, very modified)
Size: Hell if I know. Small?
Yarn: Fleece Artist Country Mohair, 1 skein (EVIL YARN OF EVIL!!!), colour unknown, since they’re not marked. I would guess Indian Summer or Mahogany or maybe Origin.
Needles: Size 10
I clearly modified the living crap out of this pattern, so let’s talk about that, shall we?
I did some gauge math, since the Cursed Mohair of Evil was bulkier than the suggested yarn. Since it’s a top-down raglan, I only had to do math to figure out how many stitches to cast on.
I also moved the button band a bit closer to the center. So the original pattern has section divides of 5, 13, 32, 13, 33. Mine were 10, 10, 25, 10, 20. I only know this because I happened to write it down. Do you really think I can remember these things?
I decided to make the sleeves ribbed so that they’d be very fitted. Who wants baggy cap sleeves? Not me. They’re done in 2×2 ribbing, to “match” the collar and bottom.
And then, there is the obvious “short sleeved minisweater” vs “long sleeved normal sweater”, and… yeah. 200 metres of yarn, people, what was I supposed to do? You think I’m going to buy another skein of $30 Cursed Mohair? That is beyond slight yarn-masochism, all the way to yarn-related self-hatred. Teeny tiny minisweater it was, and I used every last bit of that yarn. This is how much was left over:
(And the other thing in that picture? That would be one knitting session’s worth of shedding. Every single time I worked on this… thing… I got a pile of hair like that. Because this yarn sheds. Did I mention the shedding? I think maybe I might have.)
Anyway, all I did was bind off the sleeve stitches at the point where you’d usually slip them onto scrap yarn, and then join the fronts and back on the following row, casting on a few extra stitches at each underarm.
It came out pretty cute. Didn’t it? Despite the yarn. Oh, the yarn. It sure is beautiful, isn’t it? Fleece Artist yarns always are. Not going to dispute that, and I will still gladly give other Fleece Artist yarns a try, because I’ve heard wonderful things about them.
But, lovely appearance aside, this particular yarn? Country Mohair? STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM IT. IF YOU SEE IT, RUN FAR, FAR AWAY, AND THEN RUN A LITTLE BIT FARTHER, JUST TO BE SAFE. THEN LOOK BACK, BECAUSE IT MIGHT BE FOLLOWING YOU, AND IF IT IS, RUN A LITTLE BIT MORE.
I think that should make my feelings on the yarn quite clear. Luckily, it’s discontinued (gee, I wonder why), so you probably won’t run into it often.
I told you I’d conquer you, you Evil Cursed Mohair From Hell. MUHAHAHAHAHA!
JUST TRY AND SHED ON ME NOW, BITCH.
I know it’s going to shed on me as soon as I attempt to wear it. I know this. Just let me have this moment.
A few months ago, I was innocently wandering through Romni, looking for yarn to make the soul-eating Lelah. Suddenly, a skein of Fleece Artist Country Mohair jumped at me, a menacing look in its imaginary eyes. “BUY ME,” it said, “OR ELSE.” Or else what? Silly yarn, you can’t hurt me. But I had to admit that it was beautiful. The colours! The sheen! The adorable fuzzy halo! The strange but intriguing heaviness! The fact that it was made out of goats! I like goats. They’re neat. So I bought it.
Eventually I came to the sad realization that there is very little one can do with 200 metres of heavy worsted 100% mohair. I glared at it, and it retaliated by shedding on me. And on the Calmer I bought for the soul-eating Lelah. And on me again. And then, it shed some more.
I tried to turn it into a Cloud Bolero. “HA HA HA,” said the mohair. “NICE TRY. I DON’T THINK SO. FROG ME NOW.” Then it shed on me just a little bit more.
I’ll get you, mohair.
Right now I’m trying to turn it into a very, very, very modified Buttony Sweater. Obviously 200 metres won’t make a sweater, so it’s going to be a short-sleeved minisweater. With ribbed sleeves. (Why? I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time.) That sheds a lot.
Here it is yesterday, a charming pile of constantly-shedding mohair barf:
Today I split off the sleeves, and so it is a vaguely sweater-top-shaped pile of mohair barf. I am cautiously optimistic; so far it isn’t sending out “FROG ME NOW” signals. I am covered in mohair, though. Because it sheds. Did I mention the shedding?