The Design Diaries: Inspiration Strikes!

Knitters have access to a wide range of patterns, of all ranges of complexities and beauty. But how do such things come to be? How do designers come up with their ideas? What is the process like? How do they get from idea to final piece? I was recently struck very forcefully by a flash of knit-design inspiration, and thought that it might be interesting and/or entertaining to share some of my design process with you. Keep in mind, this is only my way of working through the design process, and it is going be different for everyone. 

Part 1: The Inspiration

I usually have a pretty good idea in mind of what I am designing before I start. Sometimes the inspiration is a building, sometimes a place, sometimes the pattern of leaves or branches or the outlines of mountains against the horizon. But this particular design was inspired by a van parked alongside the Thames with the following logo on the side: 

I live in Putney, which is the starting point for the annual Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race. For those of you unfamiliar with the event, this event ha been running for almost 200 years, and pits the top crews from Oxford and Cambridge against each other in a head-to-head battle over a 4+ mile course running from Putney Bridge to Mortlake. As with any event with such a long trajectory, there is much history, many controversies and a pile of breathtaking moments.

The reason I look forward to the race is a pretty complicated one. When I was 8 years old, I started taking ballet lessons after school. I started off with one lesson a week, then moved up to two, then three. By the time I started high school (Year 9 for those not familiar with the US educational system), I was dancing for a couple of hours a day, five days a week, and most of the day on Saturdays. I was also 5'8", and not exactly built like a ballerina (to put it mildly). It became abundantly clear soon thereafter that I was not destined to be the next prima ballerina of the Boston Ballet, and I ended up stopping cold turkey.

So there I was, used to partaking in strenuous physical activity more or less constantly, but with no activity any more. Enter my newly-formed high school rowing team, which saved me. In so many ways, crew was the perfect sport for me: I was tall, strong, heavy and had pretty good kinesthetic awareness from many years of ballet. And for the first time since hitting puberty, I didn't feel like a bull in a china shop. Instead of feeling like I need to minimise myself to fit in with the smaller, skinnier dancers around me, I could suddenly be proud of my size and strength, instead of feeling like I needed to apologise to everyone. In my novice year, I was the stroke of my boat, and had one of the fastest erg times on the team. That was the start of fifteen years as a rower, ranging from that high school crew team to Junior National Camps in the summer, to winning the Club Four event at the Head of the Charles and the collegiate league championships in my last year of college, to rowing at the club level at Potomac Boat Club during graduate school. After grad school, I moved to Arizona, where crew teams were non-existent, and took up cycling and triathlon. When we moved to London, I found rowing again, and while I haven't started up back in the boat myself, I can see the shells out on the water on a daily basis.

All this is a very long way of saying that rowing has a special place in my heart, and the Boat Race van kindled my design inspiration in a major way. So what is it I'm going to design?

A hat. A rowing hat, to be precise. Actually two hats: a rower's hat and a spectator's hat, sharing a boat-inspired stitch pattern, but in two different shapes. A slouchy version with only a few motifs for those of us shore-side, and a beanie with an all-over pattern for keeping a rower's ears warm. Because even in April, it can be cold and raw out there on the water. In the next installment of the Design Diaries, I'll talk about swatching for needle size, stitch pattern and the yarn. Oh the yarn...

What's in a name?

I've got a yummy new design that's almost ready to be released into the wild, and I'm running up against my old enemy: Naming the Thing.

Sometimes the name for a design is obvious: the Shard Hat is named for The Shard, surprisingly enough. The Ja'ali Stole name came from the ja'ali screens I saw in Moghul palaces on a trip to India. The Harpswell Pullover is named for the seaside township in Maine where I spent summer holidays as a child, and where my parents now live.

But sometimes picking a name for a design is like pulling teeth. Bonfire Night was called "The October Cowl" in all correspondence and files until I realised that it was going to be published on Guy Fawkes Day, and the name came to me out of the blue.

Handspun Shetland

Handspun Shetland

Luscious, luxury sock yarn

Luscious, luxury sock yarn

I'm really, really hoping something similar will happen for this piece. It's a garter stitch crescent shaped shawl with a lace edging. The first prototype was done with the leftover handspun Shetland from the Fjord Mitts (also quite easily/obviously named), and is easily big enough to wrap around me twice (note to self: must get final measurements soonest). The second, smaller version was worked out of approximately 350 yds of fingering weight merino/silk/cashmere blend from Spirit Trail Fiberworks. It's a really nice shawlette size - it sits on the shoulders without sliding off, but won't stay closed at the front unless pinned shut.

Sooooo....anyone have any good name ideas they want to share?

Poor, nameless shawl babies

Poor, nameless shawl babies

Please?......

What I'm doing about the VAT mess

Last week on the podcast, Allison and I talked about the upcoming change to VAT regulations in the EU in regards to the sales of digital goods, and interviewed Louise Zass-Bangham of Inspiration Knits to get an overview of what's happening. Things have continued to change since the interview (and even since the podcast was released!), but here's the issues, from my perspective and current state of understanding:

  1. As of 1 January 2015, sales of digital goods (e.g. pdf knitting patterns) will be taxed based on the location of the BUYER, not the SELLER. So if you live in Germany and buy a knitting pattern from any independent knitwear designer anywhere in the world, someone is responsible for paying the appropriate VAT to the German government for that sale.
  2. The threshold for being required to remit VAT varies depending on the country AND the product being purchased. Some countries have a zero threshold for VAT on digital goods, which means that VAT must be charged from the very first sale in that country.
  3. There is an EU-wide online portal, called MOSS (mini one stop shop), to allow businesses to handle all of the fuss of remitting VAT payments to EU member states using one website. This is all good. Except...
  4. In order to use MOSS, you have to be VAT registered.
  5. In the UK, the threshold for being required to register for VAT is high (£81,000) as compared to many other EU countries, so a huge number of micro-businesses are not VAT-registered. And therefore can't use VAT MOSS (as of recently - this may change. It may have already changed in fact, but I've read so much stuff about this craziness that my brain is broken).

So the bottom line for independent knitwear designers like yours truly is that sales of my patterns are going to get a bit more complicated in a couple of weeks. Here's what I'm planning to do to address these issues:

  1. All of my patterns will be available to EU residents in at least a couple of ways. First off: Casey at Ravelry has worked an absolute miracle with the help of the fabulous people at Loveknitting to allow designers to redirect EU customers to the Loveknitting website where they will be able to buy the patterns; the pattern pdfs will still go into customer's Ravelry libraries. There are a couple of issues with this solution: prices on Loveknitting have to be listed in GBP, and they will be VAT-exclusive. That means that VAT will be added on to the pattern price dependent on the location of the buyer - the final price of the pattern will be the listed price PLUS VAT.
  2. My patterns will also be available via the Designs page of my website. One of the workarounds for this whole mess is for sellers to individually attached pdf files to emails and send them on to the buyer. As long as the email isn't automatically generated, and the pdf isn't automatically attached, the transaction will be VAT-exempt. I will very gladly also gift you a copy of the pdf into your Ravelry library if you have a Ravelry account.

If you are in the UK, or anywhere else in the rest of the world that is not part of the EU, nothing will change for you. I'm well under the UK VAT threshold, so UK purchases are still VAT-exempt. If you are in the EU, but outside of the UK, you'll have two choices: if you need instant pattern access, you can go to the Loveknitting pattern listing from Ravelry and get the pattern immediately. If you're willing to wait a little while (probably well under 24 hrs in most instances), you can come here and buy the pattern. I'll email you the pdf. The first case will be more expensive, as you'll be paying VAT on top of the pattern price. The second case will mean that more of the pattern price comes directly back to me, the designer.

If anyone has any questions or concerns, there are a number of resources online you can access. First off, there is a huge long thread on the UK Shopkeepers group about the whole mess, and a much shorter thread from Casey about changes that Ravelry is making and various updates as they occur. Ysolda has blogged about this issue, and Louise has a number of posts on her blog for knitters and designers. Please bear in mind that this is new for (I would venture to say) all of us, and there are bound to be some growing pains in the first few months. Please don't hesitate to get in touch if you have any questions or problems with purchasing my patterns, and thanks for your patience as we get this all sorted out!

(Some) Mondays are no fun

Well. Here it is. Another Monday. This one, in particular, has been established as A Very Bad Day by virtue of the following:

1. I arrived at work, ready for a very busy day of lab stuff, only to find that the cells I was going to use were all growing beasties that should not have been there. Break out the bleach, rejigger the experimental schedule, and grumble.

2. I have, apparently, come down with the same beasties that my cells have. Cue runny nose, headache, scratchy throat and general brain fuzzies*. So off I go to procure pharmaceutical aids.

Better living through pharmacology.

Better living through pharmacology.

3. Ahhh...there isn't really a number 3. I think numbers 1 and 2 have taken care of it.

So now I am huddled in front of the computer, trying to get things taken care of for the Yarn in the City Road Trip, and wishing I could consume Lemsip more often then every four hours. Thankfully, there is a steaming hot toddy in my very near future, plus huddling under the covers with my latest, very special design project. 

On the left is the start of the sock on Saturday, on the right is the new sock and the old one that I'm reproducing. Suffice to say that this design has historical, genealogical and medical interest, and I'm looking forward to getting it in a final form** for you all. 

* We will ignore the fact that said brain fuzz might also be a general state of being in my world.

** Top-down and toe-up FTW y'all.

Bonfire Night

I love Bonfire Night. OK, the historical events that led to this ever-so-British of autumnal celebrations are maybe not my favorite, but a big fire, complete with an evil perpetrator being burned in effigy followed by fireworks? That is a start of winter send off that I can get behind.

And this week, winter has suddenly reached out its icy fingertips and stroked England's collective cheek in warning - I am here, I am coming for you. Brrrr! So it seems fitting that this month's new pattern should be a perfect match for the day and the weather. Meet Bonfire Night:

Bonfire Night large.JPG

Bonfire Night is a super cozy, super fast knit that is perfect to wear huddled around your friendly neighborhood bonfire this Guy Fawkes Day. Its bulky wool and cozy thick cables will snuggle around your neck and up over your ears, keeping you toasty warm through the night. Shown above, worked in Lioness Arts Roar!, a super squishy 100% superwash merino, or below in Debbie Bliss Paloma, a lovely alpaca/merino blend, this cowl comes in two sizes to suit every need. Tubular cast on and bind off make for perfectly matching hems, and a super elastic edge. 

SKILLS NEEDED: Knitting, purling, working in the round, cabling, tubular cast on and bind off. Links to tutorials for the cast on and bind off are included in the pattern.

The cowl is worked in the round on circular needles. The pattern includes both a charted cable pattern and written stitch pattern instructions, if you don't like charts.

SIZES: Small (large), approximately 17 (22.5) in/43 (57) cm in circumference, and 10 (14) in/25.5 (35.5) cm tall.

YARDAGE: Super bulky yarn, approximately 140 (205) yds/128 (188) m. Shown in Debbie Bliss Paloma (73 yds/50 g) in Fuschia, and Lioness Arts Roar! (108 yds/100 g) in Moonlight.

Many thanks to Dani Sunshine of Lioness Arts for yarn support, and R. Deborah Overath for technical editing. You can purchase Bonfire Night either by clicking on the "buy now" button below, or from my Ravelry Store.

I hope you enjoy this pattern, and stay warm out there!

 

Bonfire Night, a cowl in two sizes ($5.00)