Ugly Socks

I don't, as a general rule, like self patterning yarn. It tends to be too busy and fussy for me. There are a couple indie dyers who also put something like 13 colors on one skein and I have never been able to bring myself to buy a skein of that yarn either.

But I was in Loopy, buying the St. Denis yarn for the swap shawl and what's a trip to Loopy without going downstairs and rummaging through the sale bin? Oh that reminds me. I have to admit to my stash all of the KPPPM that I bought on another OMG look what's on clearance trip.  Looks innocent. Yarn? What Yarn?

This yarn, Berocco Sox, was an interesting blend of colors and in a fit of denial, I convinced myself it would just blend interestingly. She who doesn't not look at the actual length of the color repeats is doomed to grab self-patterning once in a while.




What I thought was rather charming in the skein, I am openly ridiculing as I knit. Because I'm knitting my usual vanilla 2x2 rib, the self patterning in the brown and white sections isn't really working out and I don't like how it's striping.

Why continue then? Well, for one thing, even on size 1s these are going awfully fast. I finished the gusset decrease on sock 1 on the commute home on Monday--when I'm writing. As I should have a little knitting time with these later in the week, I'm sure more will be done.  For another, they're socks. My wool socks are worn around my apartment or in my winter boots. I don't wear Mary Janes so people can see them. I'm going for warmth. Third, I bought the yarn, I want to get it used up and quickly. Fourth, well--at least I'll be able to find them in the wash.  And fifth? Well...they've become traveling knitting and now they're part of stories. 

So far, I've knit these socks:

1. At work during a webinar.  I was the only one in the room not doodling.
2. On the Blue and the Pink trains
3. At the theater waiting for Merchant of Venice to start.
4. During the opening band at Abbey Pub
5. At Carol's while waiting for the Philosopher and the Voiceover Artist 
6. During Fringe Knitting at Chez Hedgehog (we watch Fringe and Knit--it works)

The Philosopher described me as the ironic image hipsters aspire to be: a librarian hanging out in a country western dive bar, nursing a beer and knitting. Hopefully, this wins me indie girl cred for a while. If I'd managed to be wearing a triangular shawl with the point in front (don't like that look) and flannel I might have imploded for absolute hipsterness. But as it was, I only managed to gain the interest of every single bar fly over sixty, none of whom had apparently seen a girl my age knit in decades.

And just as soon as I finish the second sock, I'm going back to BMFA.

Cat Shot: